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My computer is fried. I'm actually doing this from my Nintendo. Which is kinda cool, but very hard. Check back for updates.

Hey all. Sorry it's two days late but last week was killer. I'm learning all about being a teacher and what that means I have to do and deal with. Friday could be quantified as the worst day of my teaching experience, short though it may be. One of my students was spit on by an older student during the older student's birthday party. Several of my students followed as he did this and knew it was going to happen. They tend to get into trouble when around this boy, and I've tried to tell them to stay away from him, but boys will be boys. So anyway, the worst part of it wasn't that they were involved, it's that they didn't see how it was wrong. They said the kid "deserved it". Let me assure you that this child in no way deserved what happened to him, even if he was a mean child... which he isn't. The kid is an angel, and smart too. Unfortunately he's new, and recently arrived from home school. So that ended my Friday on a pretty sour note.

Then it was Saturday...I had to get up at 0500 to get to school so I could take my kids to their track and field event. Did I forget to mention on here that I'm the Assistant Track Coach at school? Well I am. This past weekend I became, THE coach. Coach Beall's son graduated from Bob Jones University on Saturday and couldn't make the meet, so I was in charge. It was great. I never thought of my self as a "Coach". I really got into it this year though. I loved every minute of it. I made good decisions on who to pick for what events and we came away with tons of individual ribbons including several first places. Overall we took 3rd out of seven, but considering we were only off first by 20 points, and that school had three times as many entrants as we did, not a bad showing. Even if I do say so myself.

The big scary of Saturday though was Margarita Melendez's spectacular fall during the 100 meter race. She'd slipped on some loose gravel and face planted. Her knees, hands, and wrists had so much black asphalt in them I cringed when I saw it. She stood up and I ran over and helped her. My intention was to help her to the finish line, but she said she just couldn't do it. So I picked her up and carried her to the first aid station. I left her there and went to the next few events thinking she was just scraped up. Some of my kids came to me and said she was hurting and they were going to call an ambulance if she didn't get better soon. I was astounded, I hadn't imagined it was that bad. Then I saw someone else who said she was fine so I thought they'd exaggerated. Nope. Ten minutes later an ambulance rolled up and got her. She was complaining of back pain and couldn't breathe. Wow. I was scared. I had picked her up. I've been a doctor's kid my whole life. I should know better than to pick up someone who was hurting. I called Sarah and had her call family members and pray, but the next hour and a half I was scatter-brained. I couldn't think straight. Sarah helped alleviate some of my fear by commenting that if Margarita got up by herself then it probably wasn't a back injury. Soon Margarita was back and laughing and speaking French... Which is odd because she's Hispanic... She was hopped up on pain medicine apparently. We got home that night at 9:45. I should have crashed. But I needed to watch a movie, so Sarah and I popped one in, and I promptly left at it's conclusion, crashing until the next morning.

That morning at church Pastor Jon spoke on Slaying your Giants. I wish some of you could have heard it. I don't think it was really the sermon that so moved me. I'm not sure what it was to tell the truth. The sermon was all about David and Goliath, and how more giants came after that, and how God had made David to be a Giantslayer. Now there are other giants, and we are the Giantslayers. I know all of this. I've heard it before, but Sunday somehow it was new. There are some giants in my life that I've been working on getting rid of (cynicism, bitterness) and I've not been doing a good job on slaying them. So I went down to pray. Then pastor came over and prayed for us and laid hands on us...I gotta tell you, it was...Hm, I don't know how to put it. I felt tingles all over my body. I felt this weight lift off me. I started crying. It was great. Crying, then smiling. I just felt so good. Not only that but I had been aching majorly all over when I woke up that morning. My back was so stiff I could barely move. When we left after the prayer I didn't have a sore muscle in my body. All I can say is, thank you Jesus.

On a side note, this is a drawing my student Seong did for me. She's quite the artist and I have tons of her work. Thanks Seong, I love every picture you've drawn for me! Keep up the great work.