My newest endeavor, substitute teaching. Its been a long time since I applied for a job. Thirty-five years. Things have changed; application four pages long, drug test, fingerprints. My husband is going to try this too. I say try. After being retired for three years, the thought of getting up early and going to work seems a little scary. Anyway, here we go.We went to get our fingerprints yesterday. She did my thumb print first and then my four fingers together. Right hand then left. Then, I had to roll my thumb and each finger separately. Starting with my thumb, the message came across the screen on the computer, "print cannot be found." I knew that was impossible because I had just done my fingerprints. But, nevertheless, I had to do both thumbs and 8 fingers a total of 3 times each. That's thirty rolls, all because it kept saying, "fingerprint can't be found." The lady that was doing the prints said, "Your fingers are very wrinkled." "You must do a lot of work." We laughed. She said, "Your fingerprints look like an interstate going across them." I asked her what if the Florida Department of Law Enforcement didn't accept them? She told me that this happens occasionally and they usually do. Kinda strange I thought... it really doesn't matter if they like them or not, they are my fingerprints and there is nothing I can do about that. My husband jumped up there and breezed right through it. It's funny how the smallest things can make you feel insecure. It does me. It feeds that little bit of self-doubt that is always standing close by. That voice that says. "See you don't measure up." "You're not good enough." I thought about an experience that happened to me when I had just graduated high school and was entering college. Still young, immature, wet behind the ears. We had to go through an orientation class and we were doing a questionnaire to see what interested us. After I finished mine, I remember the person telling me that it couldn't be scored because there were too many conflicting answers. In other words, I had no idea what I wanted to do. That wasn't such a big deal. But, what it really did was, feed into my self-doubt that I had no idea who I really was. That was a slap in my face. It's true that I grew up trying to please everyone. Thought that was what I was suppose to do. Always smile. Never show my true feelings. I tried hard at school to be well-liked. I was pretty successful. My social status was extremely important. Far more important than my academic one. I grew up in a home where my parents were total opposites. My daddy an extrovert, charismatic, loud and loved people. Mama on the other hand; quieter, yet warm and friendly. My sister and I fell in between somewhere. I remember my sister telling me that she was very out-going when she was young. I was very out-going when I was younger too. People often told me I was like my daddy. I'm not sure when it happened though, but somehow through the years I feel like I turned into my mother. I like so many of the same things that she does. We both like the early morning. That is my favorite time with my mother. Talking over a cup of hot coffee. I still remember growing up, getting up early and walking into our living room and there she sat in the same chair every morning, wrapped up in a blanket, reading her bible. Although in a new house now, she still has a favorite chair, a cup of coffee, and her bible. I love my early morning devotional time too. I don't think I have ever seen a more disciplined person than my mother. She has exercised her whole life. Being a physical education teacher has helped. But, even today, she gets up before daylight and goes to the local hospital to walk. I have never been very disciplined. The strangest thing happened to me though when I retired, I wanted to get healthy; eat better and exercise. What a role model she has been! Mama and I both enjoy our flower garden. I still remember the vase of flowers that she so creatively helped me put together for the Garden Club. I was probably around 12 years old. It was definitely mama that gave me the bug. I love my flowers. We both love the seasons and holidays; can't wait for fall each year which is our absolute favorite season and Christmas our favorite holiday. Even today, mama loves to decorate her house for each season. Her dining room table laden with rabbits and pastel colors for Easter and turkeys and pumpkins for the fall. At 87 she can't wait to get her Christmas tree put up and all 10 stockings hung from the mantel; one for each great grandchild. Oh wait! With our new addition to the family, my precious little grandson, she will have 11 this year. She has a wreath for every occasion (sometimes as big as her door) and outdoor garden flags to boot. I love her over-the-top enthusiasm for decorating! A little rubbed off on me. Snuggling up to a warm, cozy, wood burning fireplace is my very favorite. I'm sure all because of the many, many days I warmed up to hers and daddy's. But, for mama, it was a must! Although I enjoy people like my daddy did, I find that my favorite place is in the solitude of my own home; just like my mama. But, you know, it doesn't really matter who I took after, the most important thing is, I feel comfortable in my own "wrinkled" skin. The first thing that popped into my head yesterday when the lady had trouble getting my fingerprints was the verse... "you knit me together in my mothers womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made." I might be a little insecure at times. I might have more wrinkles on my fingers than most. But, one thing I know without a doubt... You have always known me. And You have always loved me. Thank you Father God!
That's the most important thing 💗
sammie jean
