My Third Grade Story
I went to Bivins Grade School at Masterson, Texas. The only thing smaller than Masterson, TX was Bivins Grade School. On average there were about 24 students K-6th grade. My class had three students, including me.
I was an A+ student without trying and my classmates had to work hard to earn their letter grades that were not as high as mine. I'm not meaning to sound proud, after all, we're talking first and second grade. Not much of a track record to brag about.
The second and third grades occupied the same classroom and were taught simultaneously by one teacher. Mrs. Doughty.
I never remember having a problem with Mrs. Doughty and I didn't know that she had any problems with me. But undoubtedly she did. I whizzed through second grade and had a good time doing it. It was the good time I had that prompted Mrs. Doughty to ask my parents if she could advance me after only two weeks in the third grade.
That teacher told my parents that I didn't apply myself. Humm. I didn't need to. I was bored out of tiny little gourd. And in my boredom I became a distraction to the other students. I cleaned out my desk, played in the sand box, and talked (imagine that) when the other students needed to work and study. I finished my work quickly and had too much free time on my hands. I needed to be challenged.
I'm guessing that if I'd stayed in the third grade all year, Mrs. Doughty might have decided to take early retirement.
But I like to think that the real thing that scooted me on through the third grade so quickly was the providential hand of God. There are many people that I would have never know had I entered Jr. High and High School a year later. My husband of 27+ years is one of them.
My history and my life would be totally different if I had not skipped the third grade. I could play "what if" for days on the thought. But what a waste of time that would be. Instead, I'll offer a "thank you" to God for numbering my days and ordering my steps. How HUGE is my God!
Now you tell me...
How has God numbered your days and ordered your steps to change YOUR life and YOUR history? How huge is your God?
Your second question is, Why do I travel about the country and call so many places "home?"
Living Like Gypsies
It's my husband's job. Rick is a catastrophic insurance adjuster. In the industry he's know as a CAT adjuster. (Sounds like a chiropractor for furry pets, huh?) It works like this--
Insurance companies employ a small number of staff adjusters. They live and work in one place handling those day to day claims like grease fires, toilet overflows, vandalism, thefts, etc.
But when a disaster strikes and too many claims come pouring in for the staff adjusters to handle, your insurance company calls up a third-party company whose business it is to supply temporary adjusters (aka CAT adjusters) to help you get your money in a timely manner.
CAT adjusters don't get paid when there are no CATS. We depend on hail storms, ice storms, hurricanes, wild fires, mud slides, floods,... You get the picture. Cat adjusters usually live in RVs or extended stay motels. We all have places we call home, but the more time we spend there, the harder it is to pay the bills.
It's a different life for sure. It has it ups and downs, its positives and negatives. Why do we do it? I don't know for sure, but I think it has something to do with desires to live by faith, help people who are facing trials, and, well, EAT.
It's your turn.
Why do you do live where you live and do what you do?