Janet's Blog

I realized something not too long ago, and it made me stop and think:  This is the first time in nearly 35 years that I haven't had a key to the church we attend, and I don't mind at all. I first got my own key to Trinity Lutheran Church in Traverse City, Michigan, when I started teaching kindergarten at the school in 1977.  I used the key if I needed to work in my classroom on the weekends, but I can't say that I needed it desperately, because I was never the first to arrive in the mornings. (I've never been a morning person.)  Still, it was convenient to have the key, because I didn't have to worry about tracking down my principal, or walking next door to the parsonage in hopes of finding the pastor at home, if I needed to get into the church and adjoining school.  I found out rather early in my teaching career that I needed God's help and guidance daily so I could do my job well, so I soon developed the habit of slipping into the sanctuary for a few minutes

I thought I had left them behind nearly thirty years ago, when we moved away from Michigan and away from my kindergartners.  I thought I'd escaped having any of those little blue creatures in my house, but no.  Thirty years later, they're back.  The Smurfs have invaded this country again. I don't know why even the thought of Smurfs bothers me so much.  They really are quite innocuous.  I can't even tell you (yet) what they do, but I'm sure that Levi will soon be telling me all about them.  After all, he's the one who brought home a little blue-and-white, plastic Smurf the other day, after enjoying a Happy Meal with a friend.  I've heard there's another Smurf movie in theaters now, so I suppose that a weekly or, heaven forbid, daily television program will soon follow (again.)  When Christmas arrives, most young children are destined to find at least one Smurf toy or T-shirt or coloring book, or even the movie itself, all wrapped up under the tree. 

Kids who grow up in a family-run business start working at a young age.  I suppose we were not much different from farm kids, or any kids whose parents teach them how to cook, do laundry, or mow the lawn.  The jobs may be a little different, but the work ethic is the same. I was nine when we moved to the Mary-Etta.  At first, when we weren't in school, Laura, Dan, and I followed Mom around as she worked.  If she was filling in for an absent maid, I helped her make beds.  If she was helping serve a meal to a large group of people, we stayed in the kitchen and put a dinner roll or sprig of parsley on each plate.  I remember helping Dad empty the change from the pop machine and fill it with pop bottles.  Once, Dad handed me a broom so I could help sweep the lobby, but my technique didn't quite meet his standards, so he never asked me to sweep the lobby again. (That job probably fell to Dan, who also helped shovel the snow that covered the sidewalks every winter.) By the time I

Today was my last day of summer vacation.  I've accomplished many things this summer--yard work, spring (summer?) cleaning, Bible studies, extra time with Levi and Victoria, and time with lots of other family members I don't get to see as often as I would like.  I've traveled with my family all over the state of Nebraska, into Colorado and Wyoming, and even as far as Jamaica.  These last few weeks have flown by, providing a welcome change of activity, but now it's time to get back to a more normal routine.  First thing tomorrow morning, I'll head back to school to prepare for another year of teaching.  I don't usually stop to think what an awesome responsibility it is to teach so many little children.  That's undoubtedly a good thing, because if I spent too much time thinking about it I would probably feel overwhelmed.  I do feel privileged to work at a job I love, using the gifts God has given me to make a difference in the lives of my students.  I know I

When I think of Jamaica, I can't help but think of the magnificent turquoise seas and the endless white sand beaches.  The water is oh, so warm, and glassy smooth, except during tropical storms, when majestic waves crash ashore. Then,  surfers usually choose other islands. Levi enjoys the beach On this trip, we had access to a beautiful beach just a short trek from the condo.  We were all mesmerized by the starfish and fiddler crabs, zebra fish, stingrays, and snails that shared their habitat with us. Victoria and Levi built sand castles and collected a myriad of shells, and we all meandered along the top of the stone breaker, peering into the water lapping the rocks.  It was amazing to see so many varieties of sea creatures that we usually watch only on a TV screen or, perhaps, in a pet store.  God has made such awesome creatures! Victoria found a friend  I love mid-summer sales, because we were able to pick up an assortment of inexpensive snorkeling gear right before o

We are so blessed (and spoiled) when we stay in Jamaica, because the condo comes with a cook named Gloria, and a maid, Janet, who sets a beautiful table, makes the beds, keeps things clean, and does laundry daily.  We arrived in Montego Bay shortly before noon, EST.  By the time we made our way through immigration and customs, and picked up our rental van, we were all hungry.  Bill drove straight to the condo with only one missed turn--pretty good memory after seventeen years, I think.  When we arrived at the condo, we were warmly greeted by Gloria and Janet.  After everyone toured the spacious condo and chose their bedrooms, our friend Lillian came by to welcome us and make sure we had everything we needed.  She didn't stay long, though, because the table on the patio was already set for lunch.  I've heard that every culture has a version of a dough-wrapped meal.  Here in Nebraska, the Runza, or cabbage burger, is king.  Michigan has pasties, filled with meat, potatoes, carr

Bill and I first visited Jamaica more than twenty years ago, when some friends bought a condo there and invited us down to stay.  In exchange for free accommodations, Bill has always spent some of his time there fixing things around the condo.  We visited several times in the early 1990s; Erin and Meagan got to go along three times.  Meagan and Andy were standing right next to us earlier this summer when Russ and Lisa asked when we were coming to Jamaica again.  Well, Meagan recruited Erin to her cause, insisting that Victoria and Levi needed the chance to experience Jamaica, just as she and Erin did when they were kids.  They carefully coordinated schedules to find a time that would work for everyone, and made all the travel arrangements.  That's how we came to spend the last week in beautiful, exotic Montego Bay. A few things have changed since our last trip to Jamaica seventeen years ago.  In recent years, the Montego Bay airport has expanded into a large, clean, modern inter