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Not a Victory March
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I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch Love is not a victory march It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah So much love for this song.  Especially Pentatonix version. I’ve been thinking lately about how much different love is from what both what we want it to be and what is portrayed in media.  I remember one time when an acquaintance was...

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The Fear of Making Mistakes
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Last night, Abby and I attended a paint night for Mother’s Day. The idea behind the paint nights is that someone who is actually good at painting teaches you how to paint your picture step-by-step to make it easier for us non-artists.  It’s pricey, but it is a fun and relaxing experience and you come away with a product you made yourself.  It’s my...

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Art-Inspired Poetry: Son of Man
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My students are writing art-inspired poetry this week. This is my attempt to model it for them.  The painting is “Son of Man” by Rene Magritte.  I entitled my poem the same name.   Son of Man By Ashley Haupt   The apple looked ripe with crisp delight, And so the man took a sinful bite. He knew it was forbidden. At that moment,...

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Calling on Writers and Poets
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Hello friends. I’m happily buried under lesson plans right now, busily trying to get ready for the start of school and the task of teaching 10th, 11th, and 12th graders various kinds of historical literature.  But before we dive into Colonial life and historical documents, we are getting to know one another. Ergo, the Where I’m From poem.  I believe I have done this one before...

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Transition
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Transition

Jul 10, 2015 by

I am a woman in transition. Stay at home mom to working mom.  I find that when I’m in seasons of transition, I need lots of alone time. Alone time is my newborn-sleep; it’s when nourish my growth, recover from all the input and change.  I’m very existential, for better or worse; a lot goes on in my head. When I am with people,...

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The Wasp
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The Wasp

May 27, 2015 by

Who knows how long the wasp rode on the back of the white car in front of us as we zipped along the road singing along to Katie Perry’s Dark Horse, Benjamin and I, belting out the lyrics with abandon, neither of us knowing the meaning. The wasp hopped on right around Hwy CC and maybe he was hitching a ride to Braum’s, or perhaps...

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Blue Ribbon
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Blue Ribbon

May 15, 2015 by

Abby wrote this poem during indoor recess. Not an assignment, no guidelines. Her teacher happened upon it and entered it in a contest, where it won first prize for free verse poetry. Yesterday, her teacher told me she takes no credit in teaching Abby to write like this; the gift is there inside the girl. Yes, me too.  Tim and I were babies having...

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The Power of Poetry
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I love poetry. It’s art. It doesn’t pay the bills, it doesn’t serve any practical purpose, but it feeds our souls. And because it’s language distilled down to the most potent parts, it’s quick, piercing nourishment. I think it’s the protein bars of the English language. It’s also very vulnerable. To share a poem is like standing before people in your underwear. You can’t...

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Say Yes to the Mess
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The kids decided to get creative in the kitchen tonight.  Ben chattered on excitedly about becoming world famous for his invention of “cutie juice” which involved the careful squeezing of each slice of cutie into a funnel-and-cup and then careful transfer of precious milliliters into four paper cups placed in the fridge for proper cooling. Abby decided to bake a cake and I did...

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Warning: Plot Twist Ahead
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It rained Buckets of little silver pellets The same day My son clogged the toilet. I think the rain Was trying to warn me, just like In the movies– Rain before the plot-twist. But it would have been nicer If the rain said, “Don’t invite your friends over, dear, Because you won’t be able to find The plunger in time.”...

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The Writing on the Wall
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  Six year old Ben lifted up his eyes to the wall by our breakfast table and read words that have been there for months. But he looked with new I’ve conquered kindergarten eyes. Causes me to wonder what is behind me, beside me that I’ve never seen before because I haven’t yet learned the skill of recognition, to see the writing on the wall....

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Welcome Spring
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Welcome Spring

Mar 9, 2015 by

The earth stirs drowsily under her blanket of snow. Spring awakens. The air smells of renewal. The restless wind blows away the frigid air of stale winter along with all our frozen apathy. We find renewal, too. Holy Spirit, come. Selah. The waste places of our hearts are ice-damaged and ruined. Let the warm sun melt us into soft surrender. May the Lord repair our hardened clay; make...

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The Book Eater
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The Book Eater

Jan 19, 2015 by

  Sometimes, it’s easier to talk about books than life, isn’t it? Maybe it’s just me. I put Susanna in her room recently so I could do something uninterrupted, and she did not appreciate the separation. She cried her little eyes out for the five minutes it took to complete the task.  When I opened the door to her room, she stood there right...

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Lessons in Listening
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Listen is my word for 2015. I am astonished at every turn how it calls me out, at how quickly I rush in to fill silences needlessly. I am astonished at how uncomfortable with silence I truly am, and how frequently I try to fix instead of just holding space for what is—in myself and others. God calls me to act, but, I think,...

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Of Hobbits and Housework
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My husband has been away.  He’s traveling in the wide world for all the best reasons, and we miss him.  Ben prayed for him as such: “Dear God, Please keep Daddy safe while he’s traveling.  Please don’t let it be like Jonah in Ninevah. Please don’t let him get taken to jail like before we were born.  Amen.” “Before we were born” refers to...

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One Word 2015
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One Word 2015

Jan 2, 2015 by

Like many others, I like to choose a word for the year. Showing up is my New Year’s Resolution, but my word for 2015 is Listen. I do entirely too much talking. (Ahem, see earlier post about not deserving my friends.)  I talk when I am nervous, I talk to fill silence, I talk at people instead of with people. Talking can be about control.  When...

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