Grateful

I am finding myself so emotional at different times throughout this disaster. I'm watching the news tonight (we had to turn it off today b/c it was just too much) and I'm thinking back to 9-11. I feel at times that it's an unfair comparison, but for me, being so lucky in both tragedies (so far) it feels eerily the same. And. . .this is somewhat worse. During 9-11, it was one tragedy, surrounded by a period of other threats. This just keeps going, it's seemingly never-ending. In a matter of minutes, everything can change. One change of the wind and another community is threatened. All at nature's will. There is no rhyme or reason; it's like a tornado. One home is standing, one is demolished. Please don't think that 9-11 didn't affect me; I was there too, it was horrible, gut-wrenching and emotional. But the finality of it helped me cope. This isn't final. We haven't rested. We are still waiting to have the wind change and evacuate. My things are still in the middle of the living room waiting to be rushed down the stairs (those that aren't already in the car). And what is gut-wrenching to me is the thousands (1/2 million actually) that can't sit in the comfort of their own homes like I am right now tonight. They are waiting, they don't know about the situation of their homes and lives, they are relying on public service to take care of them and feed them, they don't have a roof over their heads or beds to sleep in tonight. . .Why I have been so fortunate twice around is absolutely beyond me.

WAITING WONDERING and hunkering down. . .

Hi to all of you out there. We've had quite a day/overnight out here. George waited to leave until I got Kevin home from the airport. He made it back to ABQ ok, but now the I-8 is closed, so I couldn't get to you guys in Tucson even if I wanted to! We thought about leaving yesterday and were going to head east, but my boss said that wasn't a good idea b/c we might not be able to get back that way. She was a smart lady! New fires broke out and spread out that way last night. Kevin watched over us last night and so far we are still safe. The major evacuation sight is right down the freeway one exit away. People from North, South, and West are coming here, so I guess we are ok! If we do evacuate, the only way we can go is west towards the ocean. We are lucky to have somewhere to stay over there as all the hotel rooms are sold out. Right now, we are stir crazy. We aren't supposed to leave or go outside. We are supposed to conserve electricity and not tie up the phone lines. I think we might sneak to VONS for a field trip to the bank and some morning cocktail supplies!! It's 5 o'clock somewhere, right?!? Stay tuned!

http://maps.google.com/maps?f=q&hl=en&geocode=&time=&date=&ttype=&q=san+diego&ie=UTF8&ll=32.974108,-116.886292&spn=1.06451,2.024231&z=9&om=1

PS This is a link to a map of San Diego County and surrounding areas. Just so you have an idea, Kevin and I live off of the 15 between the 8 and the 52. Right by Qualcomm Stadium. When you see burn areas, you will see they are all around us, with the exception of the ocean out west.

Impact

This is worth the read! Though I have MANY imperfetions,

I will continue to think about my "boxes". . .

Have an awesome day! Love KT



17-year-old Brian Moore had only a short time to write something for a class. The subject was what Heaven was like. "I wowed 'em," he later told his father Bruce. "It's a killer. It's the best thing I ever wrote." It also was the last.Brian's parents had forgotten about the essay when a cousin found it while cleaning out the teenager's locker at Teary Valley High School . Brian had been dead only hours, but his parents desperately wanted every piece of his life near them - notes from classmates and teachers, his homework.Only two months before, he had handwritten the essay about encountering Jesus in a file room full of cards detailing every moment of the teen's life. But it was only after Brian's death that Beth and Bruce Moore realized that their son had described his view of heaven. "It makes such an impact that people want to share it. You feel like you are there." Mr. Moore said.Brian Moore died May 27, 1997, the day after Memorial Day. He was driving home from a friend's house when his car went off Bulen-Pierce Road in Pickaway County and struck a utility pole. He emerged from the wreck unharmed but stepped on a downed power line and was electrocuted.The Moore 's framed a copy of Brian's essay and hung it among the family portraits in the living room. "I think God used him to make a point. I think we were meant to find it and make something out of it," Mrs. Moore said of the essay. She and her husband want to share their son's vision of life after death. "I'm happy for Brian. I know he's in heaven. I know I'll see him."

Brian's Essay:

The Room...In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast wasted time that file represented.When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," a chill ran through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy, I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.And then I saw it.. The title was "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle, and a small box not more than three inches long, fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried out of shame, from the over-whelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own.He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant, it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written."I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." - Phil. 4:13 "For God so loved the world that He gave His only son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life." If you feel the same way, forward it to as many people as you can so the love of Jesus will touch their lives also. My "People I shared the gospel with" file just got bigger, how about yours?

Taxes in October

I know, I know, you are thinking that this doesn't exist, but IT DOES! I get to do taxes TWICE a year! Once for myself (with the help of my handy tax man Tom) and once for the business. This is actually the first time we've had to do taxes for the business. A blessing and a curse all at once! A blessing b/c we reached the financial mark to have to do the form, and a curse b/c it's a royal pain in the ***!!!!!! YES, MUCH WORSE THAN MY NORMAL TAXES!!!! One thing is for sure. . .never again will I wait this long for this experience. AND, next time, I will hire someone to help me do it! (Jen, you don't know you are up for this job yet!) The rest of the day was normal, lots of teaching, and some cancelled classes to do the taxes. I'm grateful that fall is upon us out here in southern CA, getting excited for the holidays.
PS Dogs crying on the 3rd story of an apartment building balcony are not OK! This is why I don't have pets!

A Long Good Teaching Day

Tuesdays are long ones. . . 1:30 - 8:00 with students. Now most of you normal working people will say, that's nothing! But it's like cheerleading for 6.5 hours to ages from babies (4) to hormone ragin' teens! Always variable with mood swings and attention spans (theirs and mine), but I do love it. I have a new student that I've been giving privates to who has provided me with a new challenge. She is a teen and has never danced in her life and wants to learn Ballet!! She is studious and smart. But we are starting at the very beginning and trying to give her a knowledge base so that she can get into the classroom. I had her tonight and it felt good to be giving her something new, a new challenge. It is also cool to see someone just launch themselves into a new world. I'm trying to use her as motivation in my own life. I just need to find something new I want to do! I have so much going on that when I come home at night or when I have a day off, I want to do absolutely NOTHING. I'm open to ideas if any of you have them for a new hobby that I can actually find time to do!! So for now, I'll stay with my books and nighttime TV for the off moments. When February comes I'll barely be sleeping. I hope that my students look back someday and that they remember me; that they remember what I am trying to instill in them which is so much more than just steps and artistry. I go home lots of days feeling like the studio hag b/c I'm so strict, but I just want them to reach their potential as human beings. After all, look at these prescious faces . . .

they are just waiting for their worlds to unfold.

Great Weekend!

I spent a fabulous weekend in ABQ, NM this weekend with George and crew! We had great hang out time, good naps, good partying and GREAT sight seeing! We went up to see the aspens changing on the crest. A little cold (40 degrees with massive wind blowing), but worth the windy trip up to the top! Also went through Madrid, NM where the movie Wild Hogs was filmed. What a quirky town! It didn't seeem real!

Now it's back to work at home. Competition season is around the corner, and the countdown to Hawaii is 16 days!!!!!!