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As I see it: a view through the special educator’s lens

There are some things that happen in public education that I will never understand.

I realize I come from a background very different than most public school teachers. I was fortunate to start my teaching career in small, private schools, where imagination and creativity by the teacher was encouraged. Ironically, I started out teaching in a rigorous program in the 1980s. I was an all-day Kindergarten teacher in a private school that pushed academics in Kindergarten long before the trend became the norm in public schools. I didn’t have children of my own until I’d been teaching a few years.

I became a very different teacher after I had my own children. I perceived children differently. I empathized more with their developmental level and realized how truly young a 5-year-old is. I mourned for their loss of playtime and moments of being a free, imaginative kid.  I changed my teaching methods to include many more hands-on projects and more interactive learning-play, and a lot less worksheets. (Frankly, I despise worksheets.)

As my family grew I became a mother of kids with disabilities – autism, ADHD, dyslexia, mental illness, and others. I got a crash course in the importance of differentiation. My scope as an educator improved and special education and differentiating became a passion. So much so, I gained another bachelor’s degree in special education. It meant that much to me to work with children and help them succeed. I was convinced that all students, regardless of their academic level and ability, could learn the same content if it was presented to them in an accessible way. And my students’ positive growth and response to my hands-on, interactive, student-centered lessons proved me right.

Before my special education degree, I ran my own cottage school after homeschooling my own children for several years. When I pulled my twins with autism out of public school (long story, but it’s in my book, A Pair of MiraclesI knew they needed much more than the public school was able to provide. I was fortunate to have that luxury. I invited other children with special learning needs, from giftedness to severe emotional disabilities to join us. For seven years I ran a one-room school with 15 students grades K-12. It was an amazing experience.

Click book pic to order

Every student in that school had an individualized plan for learning. I found out how much fun it was to differentiate content in a way that all the students could get it. They all learned the same things at their own level of ability. In history and science we all learned the same topic in a way each student could get the same content but in their own way on their own level.

I guess because differentiating is so second-nature to me, I struggle to understand why in public schools teachers insist giving tests that students couldn’t possibly pass no matter how hard they try. The academic language is way over their heads. It’s a waste of my time and the student’s time to wade through a test they don’t understand.

It’s like telling an English-Speaking person to take a test in French. It’s just noise and marks on a paper to that student. It’s discouraging.

It is, in a word, demoralizing.

“de·mor·al·ize:  (verb) to cause (someone) to lose confidence or hope; dispirt.”
Synonyms: dishearten, dispirit, deject, cast down, depress, dismay, daunt, discourage, unman, unnerve, crush, shake, cow, subdue.
(Source: Dictionary.com)
My heart breaks every time I have to help another student read a test like that. I watch as they choose answers at random (on multiple choice) and write sentences that make no sense (because they can’t read or write).

I hope someday soon I’ll be able to build relationships with the general education teachers in a way that they will be willing to get input from me about appropriate forms of assessment. There’s so much more to learning and teaching than simply regurgitating information. There are many more ways to assess students other than using worksheet tests or online exams.

If my heart breaks when these kids go through the pain of testing, I can’t imagine how they must feel. A lot of my students just give up. They quit trying. Because, what’s the point? It’s obvious to them no one wants them to understand the content. They just want them to jump through the same hoops as everyone else. And I get that we only have so much time in a day. It’s not all the general education teachers’ fault. They have X amount of material to cover so kids pass the state exams. They don’t have time to slow down the content or take advantage of teachable moments. State assessments make teachers teach curriculum instead of students.

You wouldn’t ask a student to run a race without legs. You wouldn’t ask a blind person to read a test without braille. It’s the same with hidden disabilities. It’s wrong to expect students with learning disabilities, who read at a low grade level, to understand the same academic language as typical, grade-level students.

In my quest to be a highly effective special education teacher, I need to learn how to advocate for my students in a way that gets results. I’m not there yet. And it frustrates me. I want to earn the general education teacher’s trust. I want them to see through the eyes of their special needs’ students and understand how brave they are just to come to school each day.

I admire my students’ courage and learn from them every single day. I only hope I can have the same influence on them. Until the general education teachers I work with see clearly through the eyes of my special needs students, I’ve not fully succeeded. So my prayer, every day, is to be that for them. A successful advocate. A lens through which educators can see in vivid focus what my students need: access to the same academic information their peers without disabilities have access to, in a way that they can understand.

It’s almost time for lunch, er, I mean, launch!

You know me. I’m always thinking food…

But seriously, tomorrow is Launch Day!

:::Cue balloons and music:::

A Pair of Miracles will be available everywhere books are sold all over the world.

Wow. Think of it.

:::Karla sits and ponders:::

Actually, I can’t wrap my mind around that internationally-available thing. So, I’m going to have a live feed pajama party tomorrow night and you’re invited!

I will give away four copies of this book tomorrow night at my Facebook Live launch party.

Besides all that, I’d love to have you join me.

See you there!!!

Jake Says:

“I hope everyone likes my paw-jamas!”

Frankie says:

“The party is going to be paw-sitively paw-some!

Pip says:

“I’ll bring the pup-corn!”

Chevy says:

“Did somebody say lunch?”

(Chevy needs to work on being punny…)

Please tweet:

It’s a paw-some launch paw-ty!

Princess in training

I’ve been interviewing for a day job for months now. I want the day job for which I’ve sacrificed and gotten my degree. I know that job is out there. It just hasn’t found me yet.

I was asked recently in a job interview what two most important lessons I’d learned in the past year.

My answers: Humility and Perseverance.

I was a student teacher and a long-term substitute teacher last year. By humbling myself and submitting myself to learning from others, I reached my goal of obtaining my teaching license in special education and elementary education.

In the process, I was rejected from time to time — by other teachers, administrators, what have you. Anywhere you work, you’ll experience rejection. News flash: not everyone is going to like you.

Writers get rejected a lot, too. And as a writer, I’m a little thin-skinned. Writers must be emotionally vulnerable to have insight into the human condition.

Rejection is painful, but for highly sensitive people such as myself, it’s brutal.

Another reason rejection is difficult for me is because I struggle with not internalizing it and letting it label me. As a child who was rejected in the womb, left at the hospital by her mother (for whatever reasons, good or bad), rejection is the ugly thorn the enemy uses the most to torment me. He pokes at my insecurities and whispers:

“You’re never good enough.”

“You’ll never measure up.”

“You’ll never get a teaching job. You’re too old. Washed up. You have no future. Give up, already. Crawl in a hole and just die, why don’t you? No one gives a flip about you or what you have to say.”

“You’re not worthy.”

“Who do you think you are?”

I have two choices when these demons do a jig on my self-worth . I can listen to them, wallow in self-pity and consume copious amounts of chocolate, or I can stand up to their bullying.

Who do I think I am?

I am the righteousness of God in Christ (2 Cor. 5:21). If God is for me, who can be against me (Romans 8:31)? If God favors me, what does it matter what others think (Psalm 5:12)? I am not what others think I am. I am what God says I am.

God formed me with His hands and breathed in my nostrils the breath of life (Genesis 2:7). I am created in HIS image (Genesis 1:27). Before I was formed, He knew me and knit me together in my mother’s womb (Psalm 139: 13 & 16). He knows the number of hairs on my head and before I say a word? He knows what I’m going to say (Matthew 10:30, Psalm 139:4).

I am fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14)!

I am worth more than many sparrows (Matthew 10:31) and have been crowned with glory (Psalm 8:5; Genesis 1:26).

Cool! I love tiaras! Crowns = princesses. I’m a princess in training. Take that, ugly demon  of rejection. You’re messing with royalty here.

God loves me so much that nothing can snatch me out of His hand (John 10:29) and He will never leave nor forsake me (Hebrews 13:5).

Yes, it’s been a humbling twelve months. But I’ve also learned how strong I am. I’m stronger than anyone ever imagined, including myself. Not because I’m spectacular, but because I  know where my help comes from.

I don’t live by my own power or understanding. I’ve learned this past year that I  have tons of plans, but it’s God’s purpose that prevails (Zechariah 4:6; Proverbs 3:5). It’s not my might, but His Spirit that gets me through the day and guides and empowers me (John 16:7, 13; Acts 1:8, Galatians 5:16).

Rejection is painful but it won’t kill me because I won’t let it. I know I’m strong because I keep getting back up and trying again. I have always believed it isn’t the most talented that persevere and succeed but the most determined.

My crown might be a little crooked. There are a few gems missing, and there are a few scratches that need rubbing out. Even when I fall, it manages to stay on my head. It gets bumped and bent but that doesn’t mean I’m any less of a king’s kid.

I’m not what negative thoughts and spirits say I am.

I am what God says I am.

A child of the king.

You are, too, if you follow King Jesus. Never, ever forget it.

What are the two most important lessons you’ve learned so far in 2017? Weigh in!

Princess in Training first appeared on KarlaAkins.com.

Public School’s Answer to Autism: Jail

What kind of society yanks a 10-year-old child with autism from school in the middle of the day, tears him away from his mother (who had NO notice until the moment it happened), and throws him in jail for something he did months ago?

The United States of America. Land of the free. Home of the brave. Aren’t we something? Makes you real proud to be an American, doesn’t it?

Yeah, we really protected society  from danger by cuffing little John Haygood’s hands behind his back and escorting him out to a police car in front of God and everybody in the middle of a school day.

“Excuse me, do you have any paperwork or anything you can show to me?”

John’s mother didn’t have the faintest idea why her son was being taken away in a police car. They finally told her he was being arrested for leaving scratches and marks on a teacher back in October 2016. Felony battery. And now it’s April 2017. Yeah. That’ll teach him. He’ll definitely connect the cause and effect of that one. (Not.)

Since when does our society think it’s appropriate to arrest a 10-year-old boy at school in front of God and everybody in the first place?

The most troubling thing isn’t this one incident, but the fact that this is one of many, many incidents like it. Far too many schools resort to police interference in the elementary school setting. (What better way to condition children to accept a police state? But that’s another discussion entirely.) What I want to focus on here is the lack of common sense schools exhibit when it comes to helping kids with autism succeed in a classroom setting.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m a teacher. I don’t relish being kicked, scratched or punched by a student. My granddaughters attend public school. I don’t want them hit or scratched by an out-of-control child. Let’s be clear: I’m not condoning bad behavior. My beef is with the lack of in-class support given teachers and students with autism so that this situation doesn’t occur in the first place. If a student with autism is placed in a regular classroom, and expected to act like regular students, then the school should provide every support necessary for that student to succeed. Instead, from the sounds of it, the student and teacher were set up to fail.

How do I know this when I wasn’t there? Because a child with autism with proper support won’t throw paper balls in class, hurt other students and teachers, or be on his own to react to a reprimand the way this child did. And a teacher, well-trained in autism, won’t react to an autistic student’s behavior in an in-your-face confrontational way, or grab a student with autism and bodily remove him from a classroom.

I know because I have taught students with autism as well as my own children. Children with autism cannot have open-ended expectations and succeed. That’s like asking a child with paralysis in his legs to navigate the school halls without his wheelchair. You don’t physically man-handle any child, leave alone a child with autism. Tactile defensiveness sends the brain into fight or flight mode in kids with autism. You wouldn’t expect a diabetic student to go without checking his sugar or taking his insulin during the school day. And yet, we violate the needs of children with autism everyday in America’s schools.

Most schools in America don’t get this. But they better figure it out because according to the CDC, 1 in 42 boys have autism now.

Wait. Let’s take a moment for that to sink in. 1 in 42 boys have autism.

If that statistic isn’t enough to make you shudder, you ain’t got a shudder button. I don’t know about you, but when I was growing up, I don’t think I even met someone with autism. And now, 1 in 42 boys have it.

If that statistic doesn’t  shout out the fact that your typical children or grandchildren will share a classroom with a child with autism, then you ain’t comprehendin’ what I’m tryin’ to say here.

This problem  of inappropriate services for students with autism isn’t going away. In fact, it’s only going to get worse. And yet, schools in general don’t take the time to train staff about autism, or provide the sensory tools students need to get through a day. Sooner or later a school is going to get sued. And when it happens, I hope it wakes up the whole lot of them.

We don’t expect blind students to read the same textbooks or navigate the building the same way typical students do without the tools they need. But schools expect students with autism to. Far too much  is asked of teachers and students and no tools are provided. How do I know? I’m the mother of twins with autism. I wrestled myself with the schools. I’m now teaching in a public school and I see the lack of support with my own eyes. I experienced the lack of support when the twins were growing up and homeschooled them for almost all their elementary and junior high years.

My book about my twins with autism. Release Date: July 2017!

When I speak of support, I’m not talking moral support. I’m talking about visual boundaries, a 1:1 aide, visual schedules, and the most important thing of all: keeping the student with autism meaningfully engaged. An engaged student doesn’t have negative behavior. Yes, there are exceptions. There are students who refuse to be engaged. I understand that. But most negative behavior stems from students not being effectively, and meaningfully engaged. The activity must have relevance. It must have a clear beginning and a clear end. Students with autism can’t be expected to sit in an open-ended classroom without proper guidance and 1:1 support.

Society, in general, likes to call kids with autism brats. Americans and the world in general are sick and tired of hearing about autism. But they’re obviously not tired enough because we don’t know why 1 in 42 boys have autism now. When will the experts take a good hard look at this epidemic? When the statistic becomes 1 in 2?

When people told me that I needed to spank my sons with autism, I invited them to my house for one hour. One hour. Spend one small hour with my sons and tell me that all they need is a good spanking.

Funny. No one took me up on it. Doesn’t matter. I guarantee you they wouldn’t have lasted more than five minutes back then. (We’ve come a long way!)

Society also wants to believe the rumor that more kids are diagnosed with autism because it’s the new trendy disorder, much like they assumed ADHD to be in the 90s. But that argument doesn’t hold water because autism is the only disorder dramatically on the rise while intellectual disabilities, Down Syndrome and Cycstic Fibrosis remain relatively the same. Something is wrong. Very wrong. And whether or not we find out the reason behind these brains that fire differently and explosively, we’ve got to address the current crisis effectively. Most public schools simply don’t.

My challenge to you is this: find out how your school supports students with autism and then let me know in the comments below.

Does your public school have:

  • A sensory room for students with autism to calm?
  • Teachers trained in autism teaching techniques?
  • Lessons provided in an accessible way for the student with autism so they can learn the same material in their own way?
  • Visual schedules?
  • 1:1 trained aids for students who struggle with volatile behavior? (Not rotating aids — the same aid every single day)?
  • Lessons/activities that provide clear beginnings and endings?
  • Social Stories?
  • The use of video technology to help the student with autism decipher social cues?
  • Extensive social skills and behavior training for the student with autism at the preschool-3rd grade level?

My guess is the answer is no. And folks, that’s just the basics a school should be providing. Just. The. Basics. Instead, most schools are terrified of having to provide something like the list above because it may cost more. Well, guess what. We either take care of the kids diagnosed with autism intensively at the preschool-3rd grade level, or we support them the rest of their lives.

So, until the public schools stop brushing students with autism aside (and hoping and praying to God that their parents will remove them from school and keep them home), kids like John will continue to be arrested, handcuffed, and taken to juvenile detention centers for overnight stays. (I can’t imagine the horror his mother and he went through. She wasn’t even warned of any warrants for his arrest!)

It’s unconscionable. Frankly, it’s child abuse. Students with autism need advocates to stand up for them. I hope you’ll join me in adding your voice to mine.

Public School’s Answer to Autism: Jail first appeared on KarlaAkins.com. Karla Akins is a public school teacher and the author of A Pair of Miracles: A story of autism, faith and determined parenting published by Kregel. Release: July 2017.

Autism grows up: social media, bullies, and boundaries

Autism & Social Media

When we adopted the twins 22 years ago, I couldn’t have known the challenges we’d face with them when they became adults. Besides having to use key-less entry locks to keep things in the proper places, we’re also learning to navigate this brave (sort of) new world of social media. How does a parent with adult children with disabilities help their child through the swamp of online bullying, manipulation, and outright danger of online relationships?

Disability rights advocates frown on parental interference in adult relationships, but what if that adult functions on an eight-year-old level? Isn’t it indeed abuse not to intervene to protect that individual?

cyberbully

I’ve learned the hard way that I never should have allowed the twins unfettered access to social media. Not that I could have stopped them, really. They’re both tech savvy. They both want to fit in, and they both love the socialization that happens on Facebook. That’s been a huge plus for them socially because they’re more comfortable writing than speaking. But frankly, I wish I didn’t have to oversee what goes on with them online because it’s extremely time-consuming.

In my interview with Gloria Doty, I learned how her daughter with autism was manipulated, raped, and abused due to online relationships gone wrong (the incident is discussed at 57:10).

What my sons have experienced is bullying, controlling and manipulation. But what is worse, I’m terrified one of my guys will contact an underage girl and be misunderstood. This has happened before and we almost had a dad show up ready to kill. We had to talk him down and explain it was a harmless contact. Nothing would ever come of it. He was not very understanding. I don’t blame him.  (Nothing inappropriate was said or done. But the fact my son was 19 at the time and the girl was 14 freaked the dad out as it should have.)

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I’m looking into alternative social media for the guys but there’s slim pickings. PLUS, they want to be where everyone else is. And why wouldn’t they? If Facebook appeals to over a billion people, of course they’re going to want in on the “fun.” (Personally, I don’t like Facebook for many reasons, but that’s another post for another day.)

Do you know how difficult it is to delete a Facebook profile when the owner can’t remember his password? Do you know how difficult it is to keep an intellectually-immature person from creating one in the first place? Do you know how embarrassing it is to have people sending me screen shots of stuff my sons post in innocence but could be taken wrong? (I do appreciate this, by the way. It helps me keep them safe, but still…)

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We’ve gone through several really bad online girlfriend situations. These girls were absolutely ruthless in their bullying and control. One young woman took over my son’s page and wouldn’t allow him to have any of his everyday friends on it. He started using bad language that she used. She Face Time called him every day for hours at a time. It was a nightmare!

At other times one of the guys will post on Facebook that he wants a girlfriend and to contact him if interested.

!!!!!!

Talk about the dredges of society crawling out of the darkness! I now know things about people and sexuality that I never wanted to know. I now have seen things I can’t un-see.

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If you have any ideas about keeping people with intellectual disabilities safe on Facebook, let me know. It’s difficult for the guys to understand that not all young women who say they are young women are really who they say they are. I’m very concerned that some undercover agent is going to bait them and they’re going to fall for it. Worse, I’m very concerned that they’ll be bullied again.

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By the way. While writing this post my husband informed me that one of the twins rang up some international calls. I’m thinking of starting a GoFundMe page…

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Photo Credits:

Photo credit: Enzo Morelos via Visualhunt.com /  CC BY-NC-ND

Photo credit: FixersUK via Visualhunt /  CC BY-ND

 

An open letter to friends and family from a writer

Dear Friends and Family:

(Note: This letter is not in any way a reference to my darling Mr. Himself!)

Families are like branches on a tree. We grow in different directions, yet our roots remain as one. (1)

There have been some rumbles lately about the time I spend writing. To help us all get on the same page about this wordsmith-ing gig I’m into, I thought I’d write this letter to set a few things straight.

Few people understand the sacrifices a writer makes other than other writers. Especially writers with full-time jobs outside of writing. The perception most of the public has of people who write books, is that their work is easy and effortless. Authors sit down and *POOF* out pops a book.

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When you’re a writer, people assume you don’t have a “real” job with “real” hours. Deadlines, to them, are just excuses to say no to things you don’t want to do, when the opposite is true. People also assume writers who are published get big royalty checks each month. Um, no. Not unless you’re a national/international best-seller. So far, no one is banging down my door offering me movie contracts or begging me to publish with them. And if a big royalty check arrived in the mail, someone stole it.

contract

Some of you wonder how I juggle so many things and wear so many hats. It boils down to three basic things:

  1. I don’t watch TV. Think of how many hours you watch TV each week and add it up. That’s probably several whole days of writing for me. I get several whole extra days a week others don’t because I spend my spare time writing and researching instead of passively frying my brain on drivel. (As you can see, I have a high opinion of television these days.)
  2. Writing for me is as much a part of me as breathing. I must write. It’s been such a part of me, from such a young age, I simply can’t imagine not doing it. Ducks swim. I write. You hunt. I write. You are a car enthusiast, I’m a writer. I’m different from you. Different isn’t wrong, it’s just different.
  3. I’ve learned to say no. It upsets people. They call me names. They hurt my feelings by saying things like, “I’ll be sure they put ‘I have a deadline’ on your tombstone.'” (More about that in a minute.) But I’ve learned that no one will respect and protect my writing time but me. No one understands it, or wants it, as badly as I do.

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I’ve learned that there’s no way to please everyone, so I’ve stopped trying. My aim is to please God and God alone. This has taken me far too long to learn. I wish I’d have done so many years ago. I’m thankful I’ve finally arrived at a place of self-respect and self-care.

You see, I really don’t mind having the epitaph of “I have a deadline” on my tombstone, because that’s exactly what I’m working for, that final deadline.

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We will all stand before God one day. Alone. No one will stand there with us. The enemy will accuse us and Jesus will defend us. But we stand that day without any of our earthly friends and family with us.

“For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ; that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, whether it be good or bad” 2 Corinthians 5:10, KJV.

“…And if any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous” 1 John 2:1, KJV.

Heaven is the deadline I’m working toward. And that is why I must write. Far too many people don’t understand the outrageous love God has for them. Far too many live in deception and recklessly dance on the precipice of hell. I’m called to share the Good News with them. I’m called to rescue the perishing with my words.

Evil Days

I might not have the glamorous social life some of my friends have, or I might not be up on the latest pop culture, but I’m okay with that because I’m doing what I was born to do. Friends and family may reject me because of this writing passion. That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. I don’t live to please them.

I live to please my God. The One True God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. I look to the heavens every single day wondering if this is the day my Jesus returns for me. I look to those heavens with a mix of anticipation and excitement for myself, but sorrow for those I’ve not yet reached with His Words.

(Let me be clear. This does not make me more righteous or better than anyone else. My righteousness comes from my Messiah, Jesus, alone. In myself, I am nothing.)

Peter

My sacrifice is nothing compared to His. My sorrows nothing compared to what He endured on the cross. I don’t care if you call me addled or crazy. I know that I know Who He is, and Whom I serve. I serve a living God. I serve the God who created all those who call themselves gods. I serve the most powerful, most glorious, most merciful YHWH. I can no more stop writing to spread His message, than I can stop breathing.

For I am not ashamed of the gospel of

So the next time you try to shame me into stopping this writing thing? I’ll hand you a copy of this post. Maybe you’ll understand. Maybe you won’t. But at least it is written. And like my father always said, “People believe if it is written, it is so.”

In this case, yes, it is indeed so. I will say no sometimes to fun, to something someone else wants me to do at the spur of the moment, when I’ve already carved out that time in my week to work (i.e., write). I won’t always be able to drop what I’m doing and get someone out of a bind because of something they failed to plan for. I am called to write, not fix someone else’s poor time management foibles.

Write anyway.-3 (2)

That may sound harsh. But it’s what we writers must do in this day of rapid-fire-time-guzzlers. Someone is always going to misunderstand a writer’s need for space and time to create. Contrary to what people think, great words don’t simply magically appear at the end of our finger tips or pens and morph themselves into books, articles or blog posts.

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If this writing thing was easy, everyone would publish a book. Newsflash to friends and family: this writing thing can be grueling. Yes, I love it. Yes, it’s what I’m made to do. That doesn’t mean that it’s not just plain hard work sometimes. There are times when people are asleep all snuggled up in their warm, comfy beds that I wish I was, too. Instead, I’m up earlier than the birds or later than the stars. I sacrifice sleep, family meals and going to the movies, just as you do at your own jobs. Writing is what I love, but writing is also time-consuming work.

If you love me, you’ll try to respect and understand this singular, unconventional path I walk. You won’t hold it against me when I can’t come running because I’m at work, just as you can’t rescue me when you’re at work. Instead of knocking me down, you’ll build me up and give me wings. It’s amazing what a little encouragement will do. I can go for hours, nay, weeks, on just one “atta girl!”

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Finally, I love you. I love you with all your quirks, bad habits, and bad choices. I love you with all I have in me. Just because I’m writing doesn’t mean I stopped loving you. It just means I’m busy answering the call. And I promise. I promise. In between projects, I’ll emerge from my writing cave, and we’ll party and dance and eat and celebrate with outrageous abandon like a fat, sassy robin in springtime.

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But there will come a day, when the cave will beckon me in again, and I will hibernate. Some hibernation times last longer than others. But never fear. They don’t last forever. When I emerge, like a moth from a chrysalis, I will fly back into the real world and do all I can to make it up to you.

Just please try to understand. This writing thing can be hard. The path is often lonely. And it’s made all the worse when I don’t have the sustenance of your blessing. I may not live to please you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want your support.

And maybe, just maybe, a movie-maker will knock down my door. And when that happens? You’ll be right there with me on that red carpet.

I guarantee it.

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2017: Progress not perfection

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I gave up on New Year’s resolutions several years ago. But I didn’t give up on choosing a theme or slogan for the year. For 2017 I’ve chosen “Progress not Perfection” as my mantra.

This is because I tend toward perfectionism, which is a sin of pride, and also an excuse to procrastinate.  Example:”I can’t get all the laundry done in an hour, so I’ll wait until tomorrow when I have more time. ” Well, no, but I could do one load, right? Am I the only one who puts stuff off this way? Well, if I am, then I’m happy to write to myself because I have room for improvement here.

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Do you have something you’re putting off because you can’t do it perfectly? There are piles of things I avoid because I’m afraid of not getting them done “just right.” So silly.

You’d think I’d approach life the same way I do writing a book. Bite by bite. Little by little. But I’m still learning to eat my elephants one bite at a time.

One calorie choice at a time.

One workout choice at a time.

One household chore at a time.

Progress not perfection- One bite at a time...

It bugs me when I can’t finish something or can’t see an immediate, lasting result, so I don’t start at all. But that only punishes me and makes me feel down. So, I’m learning to break huge jobs into small steps, just as I do when I write my books. I’m determined to focus on progress instead of perfection.

For example, when I’m going to dig into a room to purge and clean it, I divide it into sectors. Then, I set the timer and tell myself, “You can do anything for 15 minutes. Just do it in this one small area.” Usually, I get to 15 minutes and find myself wanting to keep going.

Getting started is the hardest part.

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Are you having trouble getting started on something God is telling you to do? Are you afraid to try because you fear imperfection? Why not join me in 2017 and embrace progress instead?

Let me know in the comments below if you’re willing to make this your theme for 2017, too! I’d love to have a progress posse!

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Tweet this: Is there something you’re putting off? Progress not perfection.

 

Christmas Countdown Day 5

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Welcome to day five of our Christmas Countdown!

Today’s Random Act of Kindness

Donate canned goods to a charity of family in need.

If you’d like all the random acts of kindness in one list, email me and I’ll send you a copy. 

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Today’s Scripture:

Luke 1:38: 

38 Mary said, “I am the Lord’s servant, and I am willing to do whatever he wants. May everything you said come true.” And then the angel disappeared.

Today’s Song:

What a moving video. Puts all life into perspective. And the absolute meaning behind this holiday we celebrate as Christ-followers.

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Tweet This: Check here for today’s random act of kindness!

Leave your comments below and let me know if you’re participating! Have fun and Merry Christmas!

How to write an award-winning bestselling first novel | Nathan Filer | TEDxYouth@Bath

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Since I’m in student teaching purgatory (see my journey at KarlaTeaches.com), I’ve had little time to focus on my writing. But that doesn’t mean I’m not still a writer! All my thoughts eventually end up in my idea pile. I’m constantly observing, gleaning and researching as I go through each day.

I stumbled upon this little gem (the following video) and wanted to share it with you. In honor of NANOWRIMO, I want to encourage you to keep writing. Don’t stop. It was NANOWRIMO that helped me write my first break-out novel. I’m sad that this is the first year since 2008 that I’ve not even attempted to participate in November Novel Writing Mania!

If you’re a struggling writer (and what writer isn’t?) then you’ll find inspiration here.

Tweet this:

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Failure is a part of success. Embrace it. 

Spunk & Sass — Part 1 of FEAR NOT!

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Are you afraid of getting out of your comfort zone? Fear not!

If we stay in our comfort zone, we don’t grow. The only way I’ve been able to grow as a writer, wife, mom and teacher, is to be uncomfortable and receive input that might not feel so good. And yet, just as the Word promises, when we humble ourselves, God lifts us up.

“Humble yourselves in the sight of the Lord, and he shall lift you up” James 4:10, KJV.

Being a student teacher, as I am now for 16 weeks, is humbling indeed. But I know I need to go through this period of time in order to reach my goal of being a full-time public school teacher. In due time, God will put me in the position He wants me to be in.

Being a writer is humbling as well. In order to grow, we must be able to accept criticism. It can be painful, but without pain, I will not gain as a writer. I will not become the excellent writer I dream of being.

I hope this  episode will encourage you to dream big and pursue the goals God has placed in your heart. It’s not all about you. It’s about someone who needs you to be there living the dream.

I don’t doubt that for a minute.

What dreams do you have that you’re afraid of? Share them with me!

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Please tweet: Fear not! God is for you not against you! Find out how.