• all the laundry
• walking the dog
• making soup for dinner
• writing a blog post

I think anyone would agree this is a very small handful of things. It is not even a real handful, I think– which also makes it luxurious. I am neither unaware of nor ungrateful for this luxury.

Perhaps it will interest you to know that I accomplished the first three. I also spent a Good While trying the fourth, but have abandoned it.

It was meant to be a posted update on my progress with Social Media, something I wrote about six months ago, and it included a metaphor comparing Twitter to the video game Frogger, which then morphed into a metaphor with Alice in Wonderland (in a very Carrollian way, I think), and ultimately became a post best abandoned.

I have duly abandoned it.

Instead I will say that when it is late and when one is tired, the Internet is not always a good place to be unless, perhaps, one is discovering (via Twitter or anything else, really) this.

The New Activist is a pod-cast, now just seven interviews old, featuring conversations with people who care deeply about righting the injustices in this world. Produced by International Justice Mission, the interviews I have heard so far impress me with their intelligence, thoughtfulness, variety and wisdom. Most importantly, each interview encourages me that we can, in fact, do justice; that the dramatic changes we are seeing in this world signify greater opportunity for grace.

I am a writer, but mostly I do laundry. I am a writer, but today I made soup, walked the dog, and ferreted very many pumpkin seeds out of jack-o-lantern guts.

I am a writer who wasn’t terribly successful with writing today, but I was deeply encouraged by listening to The New Activist, and I think you might be, too.

Give it a listen.

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. – Micah 6:8

The post A New Podcast appeared first on Rebecca Brewster Stevenson.

Sometimes I feel I run a similar risk in writing this blog. The extreme limitations in my “free” time allow me only to write when I am, indeed (and rarely), free– or when Certain Moods hit. And so we get (perhaps too frequently?) posts like this one.

I apologize.

Nonetheless.

In the past two months, three of my friends have been diagnosed with and begun undergoing treatment for breast cancer. This would be news enough– and is. Updates from them inspire faith and also wrench tears and a kind of frustration: as much as we are commanded to– and even desire to– bear one another’s burdens, my cognizance of their pain is limited enough by frank inexperience. And this ineffectualness- or perception of it, anyway- is a burden of a much smaller, but genuine, variety of its own.

We’ve graduated another class at Trinity. I taught these students for almost as many hours as last year’s class, and the concomitant grief of their departure is real but also– for now– mostly unrealized. I can’t register yet what it will mean to return to school next year and not enjoy them among us.

Shortly, a family who is among our dearest friends will move Far Away. Enough said.

And there are other things, tired things, things longer lasting but less blog-worthy that continue on. Things that one doesn’t talk about– not in a blog, anyway– but that weigh us down. You probably have those kinds of things, too.

Since I’ve been free from school this past week, I’ve nursed a pretty awful cold that sprang into Something Worse. I’ve cleaned out two closets, rearranged the boys’ bedroom, made several batches of iced tea and a jar of basil mayonnaise. And I’ve read two books, one of which says what I’m saying here but so much better. It’s Annie Dillard. Again. Are we surprised?

I alternate between thinking of the planet as home– dear and familiar stone hearth and garden– and as a hard land of exile in which we are all sojourners. Today I favor the latter view. The word “sojourner” occurs often in the English Old Testament. It invokes a nomadic people’s sense of vagrancy, a praying people’s knowledge of estrangement, a thinking people’s intuition of sharp loss: ‘For we are strangers before thee, and sojourners, as were all our fathers: our days on the earth are as a shadow, and there is none abiding.’

It doesn’t seem to be here that we belong, here where space is curved, the earth is round, we’re all going to die, and it seems as wise to stay in bed as budge. It is strange here, not quite warm enough, or too warm, too leafy, or inedible, or windy, or dead. It is not, frankly, the sort of home for people one would have thought of– although I lack the fancy to imagine another.

Sojourners, indeed. Working out our salvation with fear and trembling. Coming along nicely until we lose sight of the prize and then spending precious time searching for it through tears. Busy doing until we forget ourselves, then remembering that so much of the doing is accomplished in inactivity: listening, sitting, being found.

Strange, isn’t it?, that all of our natural impulses are the wrong ones. I think we never actually ever completely get it right.

I am so glad that He always does.

All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country– a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them. Hebrews 11: 13-16

Gratitude, again to Annie Dillard, for her marvelous Teaching a Stone to Talk.

The post Better Country appeared first on Rebecca Brewster Stevenson.

The post The Other One appeared first on Rebecca Brewster Stevenson.

School is out, which means days and days of wide open space for me, time like I never know it during the school year. Time for family, time for friends, time for (more) exercise, and reading, and lounging at the pool. Time for cooking and for projects and– Oh Yes– writing.

And I have been writing. Lots and Lots. I’ve been at work, too, on curriculum (lots and lots), outlining in new and clear ways what I’ve taught so that my successor in the 10th grade humanities class has an easier time of it, prepping for the new senior English classes I’ll be teaching. I hope to finish those tasks shortly. And then I’ll be writing Even More.

But not here. No, this is not the space for me these days. I have another, Much Larger project that has been waiting for my time for a Long Time, and I think this is the summer for it.

I do expect to write some here, but I can’t be doing it consistently while also giving my time to this other task. So silence– or General Silence– might be the name of game here for awhile.

As ever, I am grateful, O Reader, for your stopping in here, your checking on what I’m up to. I did just write something on That Other Blog just now, and of course you are more than welcome to look at that.

And now it’s back to the curriculum with me. I’ll finish this today and then (such hope!) I’m on to Other Things!

The post Yet Another appeared first on Rebecca Brewster Stevenson.

A photo, at the very least.

But I have nothing for you. Nothing. No-Thing.

I can’t say why. And it’s not just that I can’t say. It’s that I Don’t Know. I don’t understand the emptiness, the void, the nothing-to-write status of my brain these days.

It makes me sad, but there it is.

For those few of you who have continued checking this site for Something, I thank you. I will try in the Very Near Future not to be so disappointing.

I really will try.

The post Disappointing appeared first on Rebecca Brewster Stevenson.

Some of the blogs I visit for the lovely pictures and for the idealized lives created on the page. Some I visit for the ideas, or the humor, or the news. Some give me glimpses into the lives of dear friends– friends I might talk to daily or not, but can “visit” in a new way on the web.

And some of them have Really Wonderful Writing.

Today I’ll be adding a new blog to the list at the right, and it’s a blog newborn. My former colleague, former boss and (still) friend John has begun writing– which isn’t to say he hasn’t been a writer all along. It’s just that, this past week, he decided to share his thoughts on life and living here on this ethereal strand we call the world-wide-web.

You must go and read his writing. You must. He is a wonderful writer, and he has beautiful and compelling and profound things to say.

He started the blog just days ago. It is brand new, born in advent. And, as I said, it is beautifully written.

See? A present! For you, for me, from John.

Merry Christmas.

The post New appeared first on Rebecca Brewster Stevenson.

This is not entirely great news for me. To me, Facebook is… Prickly. Awkward. Not entirely User Friendly, as they say. I go there and find all sorts of information that I cannot use (updates that come to me because I am a “friend” of the person writing but that mean Absolutely Nothing to me) or find invitations to groups that I just don’t understand or am asked to take “quizzes” that (from a teacher’s perspective) are Loaded with Trick Questions.

As I wrote to a friend recently when she joined Facebook, I feel that entering those pages is like jumping into a swimming pool when you’d really rather not get wet.

Of course, sometimes one doesn’t even need to go there to get wet, so to speak. Just last week I discovered via my gmail account that I had been included yet again in a “compare people” Facebook thingamajig. The results of said evaluation informed me that I had scored in both the “best” and “worst” categories and, while the results seem both straightforward and relatively benign, I remain a bit mystified. What, for instance, does it mean to learn that one would be “the best person to be stranded on a desert island with”? All sorts of images come to mind. Perhaps this is a nod to the t.v. show Lost, which I’ve never seen, or the popular “reality” show Survivor, which I’ve also never seen. I’m really really hoping that it has nothing to do with the movie that was popular in my early high school days, that splashy Brooke Shields movie The Blue Lagoon, which, even in its sanitized-for-television format, could go Some Distance in educating the uneducated about how one discovers one’s sexuality.

Definitely hoping that my “best” award is a nod to one of the former….

In the “worst” category, I was awarded “kindest,” and this I also found mystifying and maybe even disturbing (this is a worst category? As in, kindness is a bad thing?). The social implications of such a statement are, frankly, Terrifying and I’ve decided not to think about it any more.

Just this morning, I find that I’ve been invited to take part in a (new?) Facebook quiz It’s called “Uniquely You” and, as its title seems to suggest that I won’t be comparing myself to anyone (something that I think we all do and should try to avoid whenever possible), I thought I’d give it a go. The quiz includes a variety of “goals” one might have in life, and these one is supposed to rank from 1-10. Problem is, I’m stumped from the get-go. What is most important to me in life, love or being married? Love is likely the “right” answer, but now that I’m married, one could argue that these are one and the same, or that I need to rank “being married” above love because of what that might imply, but then again that could also imply that I just want to be married no matter what which isn’t true but if it’s Bill Stevenson we’re talking about then it is true and do you see what I mean?

I didn’t take the quiz.

Once upon a time, in a fever-induced state, I actually tried to participate in one of these Facebook quiz things and it went very badly for me. I should have learned my lesson. Sorry, Friend-From-College-Shane-Whom-I-Recently-Rediscovered-Via-Facebook-And-Who-Invited-Me-To-Take-This-Quiz. Not gonna do it.

But that is what’s good about Facebook, I’ve discovered. It’s the Rediscovery. I’ve been “on” Facebook now for a while (over a year), and have recently experienced a rash of reconnections with friends from college and high school. Here are people I haven’t seen in Years but who occasionally cross my mind. It’s so great to suddenly see them there and to hear how they are and to have the opportunity– so much easier than snail-mail or telephone– to reconnect. This, O Reader, is Good.

Interestingly, as I was poking about on Facebook last night, a friend IM’d me– and this is a relatively new friend (in the scheme of things) and a local friend and, sadly, a friend I have not communicated with since August. We chatted last night and we’ve chatted again this morning, and now our whole family is going to her house tomorrow to spend the afternoon. Lovely.

See? Facebook is a Good Thing.

Nonetheless, I remain a blogger and will be for the foreseeable future. And I am not alone. One of my recent Facebook reconnections includes childhood-friend Jenny, who moved away to Atlanta at the beginning of 9th grade. It was great to hear from her on Facebook, great to see her photo, and really, really great to learn that she has a blog!

So I guess I’ll be spending more time on Facebook. But thank you (oh, thank you) for reading this blog.

The post Internet Musings, Part the Second appeared first on Rebecca Brewster Stevenson.

I didn’t have much planned, which was good, and neither did Bill, which was also good, because our children had plans, and these kept us busy. Two playdates, one sleepover, one birthday party (for two people) and a middle school dance. Oh, and youth group. Yep. Busy.

But last night and again tonight– after (yesterday) housework and yardwork and schoolwork– I have found myself surfing the web, just looking and looking and looking at blogs.

I saw an article recently that said blogging is the “low-brow” use of the internet.

I’m not going to say anything about that.

I will say that there are a Whole Heck of a Lot of Mothering Blogs out there. Lots of blogs from mothers who’ve lost babies (yes, I was weeping), lots of blogs from mothers with young ones, photos of adorable children, smart and acerbic comments about mothering said children, blogs about homeschooling, blogs about un-schooling, blogs about sending children off to school and what to pack in said children’s lunch boxes. I am Not Kidding. And I am known to (occasionally) contribute to one of these blogs and am very pleased to do so.

But I am noticing something: my posts about my children, whether here or elsewhere, are decidedly becoming Fewer and Farther Between.

(Actually, all of my posts are becoming Fewer and Farther Between, and that might be worth posting about. Or not.)

The thing is, it’s relatively easy to write things about young children. They are funny. They are quirky. And every parent can identify with the exhaustion, the exhilaration, the hilarity found in the despair of losing a night’s sleep or a favorite teddy bear or an adorable sock on the walking trail.

But writing about older children gets tricky. One must be careful what one tells. Not everything is appropriate for the world-wide-web (or, for that matter, one’s small but appreciated readership). Some things, when written and posted At Large, would be a Betrayal.

You, O Reader, have been twelve before. And also nearly ten. I think you know what I mean.

For all this, I will say that my Dear Friend Lynne doesn’t seem to have this problem. But her photograph-connection-between-the-camera-and-blog thing is working just fine. I think that helps.

Yeah, I have to get that fixed.

So yes, for now, at least, you have fewer words about Will and Everett and, even, Emma Grace. Maybe it’s the fault of their ages. Maybe it’s that pesky photograph thing. Or maybe my mind is growing old.

Oh, hang it all. I’ll try to do better this week. Honest, I will.

The post Internet Musings, Part the First appeared first on Rebecca Brewster Stevenson.

Off with you, now. Go! Be Gone!

The post Mommying appeared first on Rebecca Brewster Stevenson.

I don’t mind any of this. I really don’t. I am eager to teach my students to write well, and the only way they can learn is to do the writing and get the feedback. They’ve done their writing, and now it’s my turn. So I spend a good long time with each paper, and I correct the syntax, and I think about their words, their lines of logic, their depth of insight, their effort. It’s an important process, and a good one. But I will say, for the record, that Not One of my students is an Annie Dillard. Not One.

Yes, it’s a long day ahead, and I really need to get down to work. But before I do, I just thought I’d take a few minutes to post something to my blog. But what? Most of the things I have brewing will take Some Time, and Time is what I need to give to my students today, not to my blog.

Then I thought, I know! I’ll post the photos that dear Lynne sent to me in an e-mail– was it?– yesterday! So I went back to gmail and I found the photos, and I saved them to My Pictures. Then I logged on to this page and opened the little photos window and proceeded to browse to find the picture of me and Lynne.

It wasn’t there.

I went back to gmail and saved the photo again (at which time it asked me if I’d like to overwrite with this photo the one I had just saved a few moments before by the same title), and then I tried again to post it to my blog. This will be great, I thought. A photo (a real photo), which excited me because, due to technical difficulties at my house, I haven’t been able to post photos in Forever. And it would be one of Lynne and me, which would make me happy, because she is So Far Away now in China. And it would only take a Few Seconds.

But of course it didn’t work. It wouldn’t work. Apparently it isn’t “configured” properly because it was sent through e-mail or some such nonsense, and so my plans are laid waste.

*sigh*

And this probably doesn’t disappoint Lynne too much, because she doesn’t think it’s such a great picture, anyway. And she’s probably right. It isn’t spectacular of either one of us. But it’s the latest we’ve got, for now.

I’m sorry, O Reader, that you haven’t got it at all.

The post What We Have Not Got appeared first on Rebecca Brewster Stevenson.