34. Or Two.

35 Works of Art. in process.

Learned more about the ascension of Christ through teaching it. We talked about how the disciples would feel. I thought about the promises -- "WAIT FOR THE GIFT THAT WAS PROMISED" and "I WILL BE WITH YOU ALWAYS" -- bookending the event. The question asked by the disciples just before -- "now, Lord? Restoring the kingdom now?" And the answer: "It's not for you to know the day or the hour...but you will be empowered to be witnesses to me. To all you've seen." (paraphrase. excuse me.)
And I see that I ask the same: now, Lord, now? Won't you come back now? Won't you fix all this madness now?
And the answer is still: You will be empowered to be my witness.
That's it. And lo, He is with me always
even to the very end of the age.
The kidlings made 'disciples.' Cardboard ones. The point was to put an expression on 'your' disciple's face. How did he feel at the ascension of Jesus? "He's amazed," said one. "I would be nervous," said another. One drew a smile right on top of a frown. Mixed emotions.
and ours change, too, over our years of encountering the promise from a God we can no longer touch with our hands.

They cracked up at today's chapter of 'Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator.' I was yelling nonsense words at the top of my voice as Willy Wonka pretended to be a martian. That was nice.
Ah, but the headache was beginning then.
How is it that a headache can override so many little positives in a day to make it all feel too much? They are, after all, so loud. What kind of fool tries to play alphabet Bingo ("Sound-O") for a station during playtime? (this kind.)

We put on our 'color eyes' this afternoon. Put on your orange eyes. What do you see around us that's orange? Purple eyes. What do you see? We talked about warm colors and cool colors. And then colored a page of each. That was nice. I think I need to teach some vague, loosely monitored and defined Sensory Experience and Imagination class.

A friendly New York City policeman happened by during their recess, as I was out among my small people, and as J. was coming up to me tearfully to tattle on people not letting him play, or poking him... I forget all the details. But said policeman said "Who?" J. repeats the names of the offenders, as if NYC cop will of course know whom he is talking about. Policeman: "Point them out to me." I was too tired by this point in the day to play this out to its full potential. Wish I had. My thanks to that policeman for the moment.

incapacitated by the day. tasks after school that should have taken ten minutes took forty-five. Mind sloooooowed. Like moving through molasses. Fuzzy molasses. Blurry molasses. What?

Thirty-four.