Restoration Is a Process!

“I can’t be sick! Not now!” The stomach flu was already working full force on me early that evening. I didn’t have the luxury of a long, drawn-out recovery. I needed to be strong and able to sing at my dear friend’s memorial service the next afternoon. Time to grab the Pedialyte, that wonderful magic potion full of fluids and electrolytes. The following morning, once the worst of the onslaught was over, I began sipping small glasses of the clear liquid, and gagged down the final gulp a few hours later. Still a bit unsteady, I joined the other singer for our 1:00 rehearsal. No one would have guessed my predicament less than 24 hours earlier. Sometimes we need a quick jolt of restoration to ge

Taking Shortcuts

“Hold it right there! You are NOT going to take that car through my car wash! The road oil will ruin the brushes.” Later as my husband was hosing down and scrubbing off the grime of our latest shortcut, he reminded me that once again he shouldn’t have listened to me. That freshly oiled Iowa gravel road did not save us any time, especially when he was spending part of our vacation cleaning off the mess. I like maps and I also like to discover efficient routes to get us to our destination. “If it’s on the map, it must be fine!” is my motto. Of course that winding, back road in the Appalachian Mountains that almost sent us over a cliff was no picnic. And our tortuous descent into Thunder Bay, O

Holding Together

I’d been numb all day. Since six o’clock that morning I’d had to hold in my emotions. The parents had searched my face, wondering if I would be that stronghold their children needed while they went to work. My fourth graders were quiet and well behaved, holding themselves together exceptionally well. I kept the conversations focused on the lessons and not what was swirling around us in the world. My face kept up the façade of confidence that all would be fine. But now school was over. The last children were safely buckled into their parents’ cars and heading home. And so was I. Putting one heavy foot in front of the other, I unlocked my car, pulled the door closed and collapsed in heaving so


“Mrs. Vogelsang, Addison is making trouble in his row. He won’t leave people alone.” I caught Addison’s eye, easy enough since he was turning around and not paying attention to the chapel service. His Asperger’s Syndrome created daily challenges for me to keep order and yet give him the necessary leeway to have a positive learning experience. Motioning for him to come sit by me, the usual penalty for misbehaving students in church, I watched as he stumbled over everyone’s feet to get to my place. Plop! Down he sat… as close as he could… leaning into me with his whole body and then Plop! Down came his head on my shoulder. I could only imagine the sweet smile on his face as he relished his “pu

Restoring the Joy

© 2020 by Restoring the Joy

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