Lately I keep getting the same question: why do you go to a church where you feel so alone? Some days I have a hard time answering. Other days it's almost laughably easy. This week I've had some of both...
However, twice last week I was reminded of why I chose Watermark and why I've resisted all the suggestions to move on. Last Tuesday we spent the evening hanging out with two of the little girls from my small group at their family's Christmas party. They happen to live a few blocks away, so their parents invited me even though we'd only met in passing as they dropped off and picked up their girls. I was pretty nervous when I walked in their house and knew no one, but I shouldn't have been... we met some new neighbors (who also go to our church) and were welcomed with open arms.
But, my favorite part of this holiday was probably the Christmas Eve service. I love going to the late night service regardless, but this year it was amazing. I'll be honest: I remember very little of the beginning. It was late. I was sleepy. I'm sure it was wonderful. What I do remember wasn't how beautifully the room was decorated or how movingly Todd spoke... I remember the stories of life change that were shared. A line of at least 20 people walked one by one onto the stage holding plain cardboard posters. One side had their story before. The flip side had their story now. A song played in the background, but no one spoke a word. It was so simple and so moving.
As I sat in my chair in the middle of the almost filled auditorium, I connected. I knew many of the people on that stage and had heard their stories in full, and I knew that I could just as easily be there myself. Three years ago I didn't have a story to tell, not one that I recognized anyway. Now I struggle to find words to express my gratitude for God's grace. I'm humbled by the healing I've found... and I'm thankful for a church where people are willing to admit their struggles, no matter how shameful or dirty they may seem.
And as a side note... my girls had some encouragement tonight too. They were having a hard time grasping the idea that you could do a good thing for a selfish reason, so I gave the example of me singing just so people would compliment me or like me rather than to honor God. Then one of the girls said "Well your wish came true." I thought, ok... they still don't get it, but I asked her what she meant. Her response? "Well, now you get to sing for God and for us, and we like it." Then another one chimed in "And we LOVE you!!!"
I guess my dream did come true... I hadn't even noticed.
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
avoidance
I have an assignment I've been avoiding for, oh, about two months now that sounds relatively easy on the surface: journal about what I believe God is teaching me through the current events of my life.
At the moment I've given up on completing the actual assignment, and I've taken to looking at what about this assignment has driven me to avoid it for so long. I think it's pretty simple: I'm afraid to admit what I fear God may be trying to teach me. If I keep avoiding, it might not happen, right?
If I had to pick a theme for my life since August, the obvious choice would be loneliness. The significant community I'd created over the past year and a half has shrunken to only a small core... the safety net I'd come to rely on was pulled out from under me, and I still don't like it. Looking back, I was maybe a bit too reliant on the opinion and advice of others at the expense of listening to and searching for what God had to say, and over the past few months I've definitely been given the opportunity to get myself out of that habit: when I had nowhere else to turn, I became more willing to turn to the Bible for support for my feelings and beliefs.
The topic this week of the small group I lead was purity... more specifically the idea that if we desire purity we have to listen to, obey, and TRUST God... and, as always, I'm pretty sure I learned more than the girls. I'm struggling with the trust piece right now. I don't like the lesson I'm learning or the road it might be leading me down, and I want life to go my way. I want the good without the struggles, the growth without the pain. The resistance is most obvious when faced with the statement that when it comes to relationship, God alone has to be enough. I immediately pull back. I can accept that idea cognitively, but my heart still begs for something tangible. A person to hold me when I'm crying. Someone to speak words I hear with my ears. A place to physically run when life feels unbearable.
So what do I fear? I fear that learning to accept that God can comfort and love me without any help may mean this is only the beginning of my season of loneliness. I fear that THIS is the reason my community has been stripped away and my attempts to rebuild it have been met with frustration and failure.
Well, I guess I'm finished with my assignment now...
At the moment I've given up on completing the actual assignment, and I've taken to looking at what about this assignment has driven me to avoid it for so long. I think it's pretty simple: I'm afraid to admit what I fear God may be trying to teach me. If I keep avoiding, it might not happen, right?
If I had to pick a theme for my life since August, the obvious choice would be loneliness. The significant community I'd created over the past year and a half has shrunken to only a small core... the safety net I'd come to rely on was pulled out from under me, and I still don't like it. Looking back, I was maybe a bit too reliant on the opinion and advice of others at the expense of listening to and searching for what God had to say, and over the past few months I've definitely been given the opportunity to get myself out of that habit: when I had nowhere else to turn, I became more willing to turn to the Bible for support for my feelings and beliefs.
The topic this week of the small group I lead was purity... more specifically the idea that if we desire purity we have to listen to, obey, and TRUST God... and, as always, I'm pretty sure I learned more than the girls. I'm struggling with the trust piece right now. I don't like the lesson I'm learning or the road it might be leading me down, and I want life to go my way. I want the good without the struggles, the growth without the pain. The resistance is most obvious when faced with the statement that when it comes to relationship, God alone has to be enough. I immediately pull back. I can accept that idea cognitively, but my heart still begs for something tangible. A person to hold me when I'm crying. Someone to speak words I hear with my ears. A place to physically run when life feels unbearable.
So what do I fear? I fear that learning to accept that God can comfort and love me without any help may mean this is only the beginning of my season of loneliness. I fear that THIS is the reason my community has been stripped away and my attempts to rebuild it have been met with frustration and failure.
Well, I guess I'm finished with my assignment now...
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
why i HATE the car dealership
The trunk of my car will not close. Apparently this is quite humorous to most people... I am not one of those people.
I see a variety of reasons that this is a problem, not least among them the fact that it's been raining and sleeting all evening, so we take the car to the dealership. They're all "No problem. It'll be ready in two hours." and I think "GREAT! AMAZING!! How very simple!!!" and come home smiling because in two hours I will have a car with a CLOSED trunk. I should have known it was too good to be true.
One hour and forty-five minutes later, they call back and say they don't have the part. I'm already highly annoyed with the fact that it took almost the whole two hours for them to realize that they couldn't even start to fix my car when they mention that, OOPS! They can't actually fix it for TWO WEEKS. Seriously. They have no better solution than to tie it partially shut for the next 14 days and hope for the best.
I guess I better start praying for good weather... and a better attitude.
I see a variety of reasons that this is a problem, not least among them the fact that it's been raining and sleeting all evening, so we take the car to the dealership. They're all "No problem. It'll be ready in two hours." and I think "GREAT! AMAZING!! How very simple!!!" and come home smiling because in two hours I will have a car with a CLOSED trunk. I should have known it was too good to be true.
One hour and forty-five minutes later, they call back and say they don't have the part. I'm already highly annoyed with the fact that it took almost the whole two hours for them to realize that they couldn't even start to fix my car when they mention that, OOPS! They can't actually fix it for TWO WEEKS. Seriously. They have no better solution than to tie it partially shut for the next 14 days and hope for the best.
I guess I better start praying for good weather... and a better attitude.
Sunday, December 7, 2008
and the rest is yet to come
The beginnings of my nativity (handmade by my friend Kathy)...
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph
baby Jesus up close
the shepherd, the sheep, and the two newest members of my flock
the mouse
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph
baby Jesus up close
the shepherd, the sheep, and the two newest members of my flock
the mouseThursday, November 27, 2008
thankful
I know this is a little odd, but I'm thankful that I woke up this morning to an e-mail that brought me to tears...
I've been in a bit of a debate with a friend over my last post, so I should probably clarify. Are there people at my church who care about me? Yes. Are there people at my church who know me intimately? A couple. Are there people who would notice if I was gone? Maybe a few (because there would suddenly be a group of leaderless little girls on a mission to find their Goldfish). Do I believe there are people who know me and care about me enough that I couldn't be instantly replaced by one of the hundreds of people who will join in the next few months? Not really... other than the friend I've been discussing this with.
I went to bed last night more than a little frustrated with this discussion. The last thing I wanted was to be called out by someone I hadn't spoken to in several months, and I have to admit, I opened her e-mail this morning with a sense of dread at what was to come... then I started reading. I made it about halfway through the first paragraph before I started sobbing.
What did she say? Simply this: The most important thing for you to remember is that you can't get rid of me, A.
I can count on one hand the people in my life who will understand why those words would be so important to me, and today, more so than the actual words, I was struck by the intimacy of her remark.
She didn't write that particular sentence by chance. She knew to write it because she's been there over the past few years walking with me through even my messiest struggles, and though I often wonder why, she hasn't walked away. She knows me deeply and still loves me anyway, and her persistence reminds me that I am worth fighting for... I would not have become the woman I am today without her encouragement and willingness to speak truth into my life even when I don't want to hear it. She told the truth: I can't get rid of her... trust me, I've tried!
So, I could have written a list of the blessings in my life that I'm thankful for (my husband, our home and dog, my job and class, my friends just to name a few), but given the events of the past two days, this seemed more fitting.
Thanks, H, for continuing to point me back to Christ. Your friendship is a tremendous blessing to me and always will be, no matter what shape it takes.
I've been in a bit of a debate with a friend over my last post, so I should probably clarify. Are there people at my church who care about me? Yes. Are there people at my church who know me intimately? A couple. Are there people who would notice if I was gone? Maybe a few (because there would suddenly be a group of leaderless little girls on a mission to find their Goldfish). Do I believe there are people who know me and care about me enough that I couldn't be instantly replaced by one of the hundreds of people who will join in the next few months? Not really... other than the friend I've been discussing this with.
I went to bed last night more than a little frustrated with this discussion. The last thing I wanted was to be called out by someone I hadn't spoken to in several months, and I have to admit, I opened her e-mail this morning with a sense of dread at what was to come... then I started reading. I made it about halfway through the first paragraph before I started sobbing.
What did she say? Simply this: The most important thing for you to remember is that you can't get rid of me, A.
I can count on one hand the people in my life who will understand why those words would be so important to me, and today, more so than the actual words, I was struck by the intimacy of her remark.
She didn't write that particular sentence by chance. She knew to write it because she's been there over the past few years walking with me through even my messiest struggles, and though I often wonder why, she hasn't walked away. She knows me deeply and still loves me anyway, and her persistence reminds me that I am worth fighting for... I would not have become the woman I am today without her encouragement and willingness to speak truth into my life even when I don't want to hear it. She told the truth: I can't get rid of her... trust me, I've tried!
So, I could have written a list of the blessings in my life that I'm thankful for (my husband, our home and dog, my job and class, my friends just to name a few), but given the events of the past two days, this seemed more fitting.
Thanks, H, for continuing to point me back to Christ. Your friendship is a tremendous blessing to me and always will be, no matter what shape it takes.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
my place
I desperately want a place to belong.
I've watched for most of the past three years at Watermark as the people around me each found their niche, but I always feel like I'm standing on the outside, separated by an invisible barrier. We've tried the community group thing twice now, and both times we've ended up the outsiders-- the ones left over when the rest of the group tightens. Though I can see reasons in each case that the group was not the best fit, when I think about the end result I find myself coming back to the same conclusion: I'm the flaw.
This morning, I sat there in a room of a thousand people, and all I could think was that there wasn't a single person in that room who cared if I lived or died or would have noticed if I never came back. In the past, that would have been because I chose to remain walled off and hidden inside myself. This time that isn't the case. I've done all the right things... community groups, activities, serving-- in multiple ministries, nonetheless. I've tried the best I know how, often when I would have rather pulled into my shell, and the result has been heartache.
Lately, I often wonder if there's any point in trying anymore. Maybe it's time to give up on this church and move on. There are many things I'd miss, but I wouldn't miss the pain of seeing all the people who've succeeded where I've failed. For all the self blame, I do question whether it is totally my fault. I have friends at work and in the other groups I'm involved in... why can't I make it work here?
I've watched for most of the past three years at Watermark as the people around me each found their niche, but I always feel like I'm standing on the outside, separated by an invisible barrier. We've tried the community group thing twice now, and both times we've ended up the outsiders-- the ones left over when the rest of the group tightens. Though I can see reasons in each case that the group was not the best fit, when I think about the end result I find myself coming back to the same conclusion: I'm the flaw.
This morning, I sat there in a room of a thousand people, and all I could think was that there wasn't a single person in that room who cared if I lived or died or would have noticed if I never came back. In the past, that would have been because I chose to remain walled off and hidden inside myself. This time that isn't the case. I've done all the right things... community groups, activities, serving-- in multiple ministries, nonetheless. I've tried the best I know how, often when I would have rather pulled into my shell, and the result has been heartache.
Lately, I often wonder if there's any point in trying anymore. Maybe it's time to give up on this church and move on. There are many things I'd miss, but I wouldn't miss the pain of seeing all the people who've succeeded where I've failed. For all the self blame, I do question whether it is totally my fault. I have friends at work and in the other groups I'm involved in... why can't I make it work here?
Monday, November 10, 2008
a calling?
Lately the idea of feeling "called" has been tossed around a lot in conversations I've been involved in...
"Well, I know God is calling me to this because he wouldn't put this longing in my heart and not fulfill it."
"I'm going to do this (against all wise counsel) because it's what I feel called to do."
"We should help them because God called them to this."
I believe that God can guide us toward certain paths, but lately this phrase feels like a catch-all reason to do something that might not otherwise be prudent. Who can argue if it's God's calling?
I see a couple problems with this attitude. First, I know that God gives us longings that He doesn't fulfill. I know many people who are, just like me, experiencing this first hand. Women who long for husbands or like me, children. God may or may not fulfill those wishes, and if he does, it may not be right away. To say that the longing equates to a call is a big jump... one that can lead to taking our own steps to fulfill that desire outside of God's will (I can't help but think of Abram and Sarai who decided to use their own methods to fulfill God's promise to them). Second, I believe God calls each of us to use discernment in our choices and to look to others in community to guide us to His truth. It's hard to look at your own life with clarity and without bias. That's why He gave us each other.
Another concern I see is that in scripture callings usually involve someone waiting or doing something they would rather not, not necessarily God giving them exactly what they want as soon as they want it. Abraham and Sarah had to wait years beyond what anyone would have believed possible for God to grant their wish with the birth of Isaac. Noah had to build an ark while all his neighbors thought he was losing his mind. Jonah certainly wasn't jumping to head to Ninevah. No one was called to frolic in the flowers or spend money they didn't have to buy things they did not need. Callings in the Bible weren't all fun and games.
Maybe I'm being hard on people. I definitely don't have all the answers... I just know that what I'm hearing does not fit well with what I know of scripture. It does, however, fit well with our society's desire for immediate gratification.
And now I'll stop ranting... I've had my say :-)
"Well, I know God is calling me to this because he wouldn't put this longing in my heart and not fulfill it."
"I'm going to do this (against all wise counsel) because it's what I feel called to do."
"We should help them because God called them to this."
I believe that God can guide us toward certain paths, but lately this phrase feels like a catch-all reason to do something that might not otherwise be prudent. Who can argue if it's God's calling?
I see a couple problems with this attitude. First, I know that God gives us longings that He doesn't fulfill. I know many people who are, just like me, experiencing this first hand. Women who long for husbands or like me, children. God may or may not fulfill those wishes, and if he does, it may not be right away. To say that the longing equates to a call is a big jump... one that can lead to taking our own steps to fulfill that desire outside of God's will (I can't help but think of Abram and Sarai who decided to use their own methods to fulfill God's promise to them). Second, I believe God calls each of us to use discernment in our choices and to look to others in community to guide us to His truth. It's hard to look at your own life with clarity and without bias. That's why He gave us each other.
Another concern I see is that in scripture callings usually involve someone waiting or doing something they would rather not, not necessarily God giving them exactly what they want as soon as they want it. Abraham and Sarah had to wait years beyond what anyone would have believed possible for God to grant their wish with the birth of Isaac. Noah had to build an ark while all his neighbors thought he was losing his mind. Jonah certainly wasn't jumping to head to Ninevah. No one was called to frolic in the flowers or spend money they didn't have to buy things they did not need. Callings in the Bible weren't all fun and games.
Maybe I'm being hard on people. I definitely don't have all the answers... I just know that what I'm hearing does not fit well with what I know of scripture. It does, however, fit well with our society's desire for immediate gratification.
And now I'll stop ranting... I've had my say :-)
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
vindication
Lunch at reading staff development...
trainer: I brought my Daily 5 book in for you to look at... it's basically what you already teach.
me: I thought so, but since everyone keeps talking and talking about how different it is I started to wonder...
trainer (annoyed): Well, for some people it is VERY different. We've been telling them since 2002, but did you know some of these schools still use THE LETTER PEOPLE?!?
me: Yes... that would be where I work.
trainer (whispering, with a look of horror): You don't do that... do you?
trainer: I brought my Daily 5 book in for you to look at... it's basically what you already teach.
me: I thought so, but since everyone keeps talking and talking about how different it is I started to wonder...
trainer (annoyed): Well, for some people it is VERY different. We've been telling them since 2002, but did you know some of these schools still use THE LETTER PEOPLE?!?
me: Yes... that would be where I work.
trainer (whispering, with a look of horror): You don't do that... do you?
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
voting day
Discussion during community circle this morning...
(Preface: We have the "Who loves/hates God" discussion at least once a day... BIG deal in my class)
kid 1 (screaming over everyone else): I NEED TO TELL YOU THAT MY MOM SAYS ROCK OBAMA IS NOT A CHRISTIAN! HE HATES GOD!!
me: Ok... thank you. Shhh!
kid 2: Today's voting day! My mom's voting for John McCain because he has the Christian girl. She LOVES God.
kid 3: Yeah. My parents are voting for him too. I know we like John McCain cause he's Upublican.
me: Oh, you like John McCain because he's REpublican?
kid 3: Yeah. Upublican.
kid 4: I know a lot of people like Rock Obama because he's not as old.
me: Well, that's true. Some people do like BARACK Obama because he's younger than John McCain.
kid 5: I know why I like Rock Obama... It's because I'M Mexican!
kids (whispering to each other): What's Mexican? Do you know what that means?
kid 1: She likes Rock Obama, so Mexican must mean... SHE HATES GOD!
and this is why I will never equate loving God with supporting a specific candidate...
(Preface: We have the "Who loves/hates God" discussion at least once a day... BIG deal in my class)
kid 1 (screaming over everyone else): I NEED TO TELL YOU THAT MY MOM SAYS ROCK OBAMA IS NOT A CHRISTIAN! HE HATES GOD!!
me: Ok... thank you. Shhh!
kid 2: Today's voting day! My mom's voting for John McCain because he has the Christian girl. She LOVES God.
kid 3: Yeah. My parents are voting for him too. I know we like John McCain cause he's Upublican.
me: Oh, you like John McCain because he's REpublican?
kid 3: Yeah. Upublican.
kid 4: I know a lot of people like Rock Obama because he's not as old.
me: Well, that's true. Some people do like BARACK Obama because he's younger than John McCain.
kid 5: I know why I like Rock Obama... It's because I'M Mexican!
kids (whispering to each other): What's Mexican? Do you know what that means?
kid 1: She likes Rock Obama, so Mexican must mean... SHE HATES GOD!
and this is why I will never equate loving God with supporting a specific candidate...
Friday, October 31, 2008
the best friday EVER
Friday is known in my classroom as Letter Person Day.
Now, if you know me at all, I'm sure you've heard that I abhor the Letter People. They rank second only to Cooking Wednesday on the list of activities that require lots of effort and are a complete waste of time. As a curriculum, the Letter People are fine for Pre-K (although I think they look completely creepy), but kindergarteners have to move faster than one letter a week... I know, heresy! At any rate, today was not only Halloween but LETTER PERSON DAY!!!!! Yes, the Letter People outrank Halloween with my class.
So, this morning I was in a particularly good mood and decided to pull down the two giant boxes of Letter People I've been hiding in my closet and blow them up to decorate our room before we went to meet the new one. I can't stand them, but I knew it would make my kids' day. As predicted, when my kids walked in and saw our room filled with Letter People, they flipped. I thought they might all pass out from sheer joy.
"Do we get to KEEP them?!?"
"How did they get here?!?"
"It's ALL of them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Can we give them a hug?!?"
Our very own set of Letter People. Life is now complete.
And every bit of that story was just background for the rest :-)
We have Writer's Workshop every single day, and it's one of my kids' (and my) favorite times. On a normal day, everyone sits down and starts to write without much prompting... Halloween does not count as a normal day.
After our minilesson, they get up to get notebooks and instead of getting to work, they start talking, walking around, playing with friends, etc. Now, on a normal day, this is totally unacceptable, and Halloween is no different in my mind. I stopped them and let them remind me of the expectations, but within, oh, two minutes, they were off task again. At this point, I threatened to sign folders and take away part of recess... still no good. It is Halloween after all. So, in a moment of frustration I responded, "You have until 0 and then I am taking away one Letter Person at a time until you are following our kindergarten rules."
Before I could even start counting every single child was silently writing, and not a one of them moved until I called them to clean up.
I guess the Letter People are good for something after all!
(a very blurry view of our new cubby decor)
Now, if you know me at all, I'm sure you've heard that I abhor the Letter People. They rank second only to Cooking Wednesday on the list of activities that require lots of effort and are a complete waste of time. As a curriculum, the Letter People are fine for Pre-K (although I think they look completely creepy), but kindergarteners have to move faster than one letter a week... I know, heresy! At any rate, today was not only Halloween but LETTER PERSON DAY!!!!! Yes, the Letter People outrank Halloween with my class.
So, this morning I was in a particularly good mood and decided to pull down the two giant boxes of Letter People I've been hiding in my closet and blow them up to decorate our room before we went to meet the new one. I can't stand them, but I knew it would make my kids' day. As predicted, when my kids walked in and saw our room filled with Letter People, they flipped. I thought they might all pass out from sheer joy.
"Do we get to KEEP them?!?"
"How did they get here?!?"
"It's ALL of them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Can we give them a hug?!?"
Our very own set of Letter People. Life is now complete.
And every bit of that story was just background for the rest :-)
We have Writer's Workshop every single day, and it's one of my kids' (and my) favorite times. On a normal day, everyone sits down and starts to write without much prompting... Halloween does not count as a normal day.
After our minilesson, they get up to get notebooks and instead of getting to work, they start talking, walking around, playing with friends, etc. Now, on a normal day, this is totally unacceptable, and Halloween is no different in my mind. I stopped them and let them remind me of the expectations, but within, oh, two minutes, they were off task again. At this point, I threatened to sign folders and take away part of recess... still no good. It is Halloween after all. So, in a moment of frustration I responded, "You have until 0 and then I am taking away one Letter Person at a time until you are following our kindergarten rules."
Before I could even start counting every single child was silently writing, and not a one of them moved until I called them to clean up.
I guess the Letter People are good for something after all!
(a very blurry view of our new cubby decor)
Monday, October 27, 2008
a daunting task
Since I slept in then slept all afternoon, I'm guessing I'll be up for hours... I might as well write.
This month I've been teaching six and seven year old girls about making wise decisions. Putting aside the obvious irony that I of all people would be teaching others how to make good choices, it's been a great experience. I'll probably have the ridiculous song in my head for roughly the next six months, but I bet I'll pause for at least a moment the next time I'm about to do something really stupid.
I've enjoyed getting to know my girls, but from an adult perspective, I've enjoyed hearing them articulate their knowledge of the Bible. They're so young (as I was reminded when one of them asked tonight why they don't get Goldfish in first grade... they always got them before), but because of the way they've been raised, they know their stuff. I sometimes think I could just sit back and let them teach...
I often question how my children (if I ever had any) would fare in a room of children at Watermark. What kind of parent would I be? What would my children value? How much of my struggles would they pick up, either through nature or nurture? How much would I reflect Christ in my choices and behavior towards them and others? How would I equip them to love Christ even when it feels hard, something I struggle with immensely? When I think of it that way, being a parent sounds like such a daunting task.
This weekend I met my friend Angie's twin babies, Isaac and Lilly. They were adorable (aren't all babies?), but I was reminded how glad I am that they are not mine. I do still want children one day, though it appears more and more likely that particular dream may not come true, but at least for now, I feel a sense of relief. A reminder that before I got caught up in competing with the people around me, I knew I wasn't ready to take that step.
I'm finally fading, so hopefully I can now fall asleep. I need to be alert and ready for the 18 kids that I get to love on and impact right now... only a slightly less daunting proposition.
This month I've been teaching six and seven year old girls about making wise decisions. Putting aside the obvious irony that I of all people would be teaching others how to make good choices, it's been a great experience. I'll probably have the ridiculous song in my head for roughly the next six months, but I bet I'll pause for at least a moment the next time I'm about to do something really stupid.
I've enjoyed getting to know my girls, but from an adult perspective, I've enjoyed hearing them articulate their knowledge of the Bible. They're so young (as I was reminded when one of them asked tonight why they don't get Goldfish in first grade... they always got them before), but because of the way they've been raised, they know their stuff. I sometimes think I could just sit back and let them teach...
I often question how my children (if I ever had any) would fare in a room of children at Watermark. What kind of parent would I be? What would my children value? How much of my struggles would they pick up, either through nature or nurture? How much would I reflect Christ in my choices and behavior towards them and others? How would I equip them to love Christ even when it feels hard, something I struggle with immensely? When I think of it that way, being a parent sounds like such a daunting task.
This weekend I met my friend Angie's twin babies, Isaac and Lilly. They were adorable (aren't all babies?), but I was reminded how glad I am that they are not mine. I do still want children one day, though it appears more and more likely that particular dream may not come true, but at least for now, I feel a sense of relief. A reminder that before I got caught up in competing with the people around me, I knew I wasn't ready to take that step.
I'm finally fading, so hopefully I can now fall asleep. I need to be alert and ready for the 18 kids that I get to love on and impact right now... only a slightly less daunting proposition.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
shattered
Yesterday I started reading the book Shattered Dreams by Larry Crabb, and about five minutes in, I realized that this book was going to hit on many of the themes in my life lately including a major one... if God is truly loving, why is life so difficult?
Over the past few weeks, I've watched as the dreams I had for my life have, in many ways, shattered. In my fairy tale, by now I'd be a young, stay-at-home mom with cute kids and a beautiful home. In my real life, my friends are moving forward with starting families while I have once again begun the frustrating search for the right combination of crazy pills that will keep me sane. Despite all my work and all the programs and counseling I've done, my depression returned. Again. This just isn't how I dreamed my life would look.
I don't know how I'll feel about this book in the end, but so far I find it both challenging and soothing. For most of my life, I've heard all the "right" Christian comfort, but it feels almost offensive most of the time... like a way for the person to escape the pain that I can't escape. People want to hear that I trust that God will ultimately take away my struggles or at least give me happiness despite them, not that I'm hurting and confused and at times want nothing to do with the person who allows this pain to occur even though He could stop it at any time. They don't want to deal with the grim reality that God's plan for my life may INCLUDE this struggle. Forever. It may not go away. And they often don't want to consider that, maybe, just maybe, this is NOT a reflection of my worthiness as a Christian.
Why does God allow pain and heartbreak and shattered dreams? Maybe, like Crabb suggests, it is to draw us closer to Him... to strip us down until we can see deep in our souls that we need God. Maybe it's to teach us things we'd never learn otherwise. Maybe it's to allow us to comfort others who are experiencing that deep pain as well. Maybe it's all of these things and many others. All I know is that I can't accept that it is simply to punish us for a failed relationship with Him...
I sometimes wish that I had the seemingly easy life that many people around me have... the ones who float around happily while all their dreams come true. But, as I was reminded this week, the trade off is often a life filled with inauthentic, surface only relationships to avoid the struggle of really living life with people, of really delving into the depths of our own hearts and seeing our own weaknesses and faults.
For whatever reason, I've had more than my fair share of pain in my life thus far, and that sucks. But, the pain has definitely revealed my soul and drawn me closer to God, and even in the midst of a low time, I am still glad to have caught a glimpse of my authentic heart.
Over the past few weeks, I've watched as the dreams I had for my life have, in many ways, shattered. In my fairy tale, by now I'd be a young, stay-at-home mom with cute kids and a beautiful home. In my real life, my friends are moving forward with starting families while I have once again begun the frustrating search for the right combination of crazy pills that will keep me sane. Despite all my work and all the programs and counseling I've done, my depression returned. Again. This just isn't how I dreamed my life would look.
I don't know how I'll feel about this book in the end, but so far I find it both challenging and soothing. For most of my life, I've heard all the "right" Christian comfort, but it feels almost offensive most of the time... like a way for the person to escape the pain that I can't escape. People want to hear that I trust that God will ultimately take away my struggles or at least give me happiness despite them, not that I'm hurting and confused and at times want nothing to do with the person who allows this pain to occur even though He could stop it at any time. They don't want to deal with the grim reality that God's plan for my life may INCLUDE this struggle. Forever. It may not go away. And they often don't want to consider that, maybe, just maybe, this is NOT a reflection of my worthiness as a Christian.
Why does God allow pain and heartbreak and shattered dreams? Maybe, like Crabb suggests, it is to draw us closer to Him... to strip us down until we can see deep in our souls that we need God. Maybe it's to teach us things we'd never learn otherwise. Maybe it's to allow us to comfort others who are experiencing that deep pain as well. Maybe it's all of these things and many others. All I know is that I can't accept that it is simply to punish us for a failed relationship with Him...
I sometimes wish that I had the seemingly easy life that many people around me have... the ones who float around happily while all their dreams come true. But, as I was reminded this week, the trade off is often a life filled with inauthentic, surface only relationships to avoid the struggle of really living life with people, of really delving into the depths of our own hearts and seeing our own weaknesses and faults.
For whatever reason, I've had more than my fair share of pain in my life thus far, and that sucks. But, the pain has definitely revealed my soul and drawn me closer to God, and even in the midst of a low time, I am still glad to have caught a glimpse of my authentic heart.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
patience?
I waited patiently for the LORD;
he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.
-Psalm 40: 1-2
I frequently get comments about my patience (surprisingly, not my lack thereof!). I've asked people to explain before because typically when someone compliments me, I feel anything but patient inside. I'm usually taking slow breaths and trying not to scream! The response I consistently receive is that no matter how frustrated I might be inside, I keep my composure in the moment. There are good and bad parts to that trait (like it's great in a classroom but a pretty bad way to do life), but I am generally glad that it's something people say about me.
I don't know what patience should look like on the inside. I imagine someone who's totally peaceful... serene... a person floating along on a cloud while things slowly occur around her. However, as this verse has spun through my head lately, I've started to see something pretty different. Waiting patiently isn't always such a calm, sedate time... it can be a time of earnestly crying out, of being hopelessly stuck in the mud.
I doubt the people who see me day to day would say that I've been drowning in quicksand the past few weeks. It doesn't necessarily show on the outside, but that's the most accurate way to describe what I've felt. I've sung the words of Psalm 40 through over and over in my mind, but I haven't found a firm place to stand. Just the opposite: every time I start to think I've found a foothold, I fall deeper into the pit.
I've been angry with God, and I've struggled to accept the challenges He's placed before me this week. I don't understand this path or this timing, and I'm both physically and mentally exhausted. I want rest, not a new problem to solve.
Is this patience? Maybe... maybe not. I'm waiting at any rate. Waiting, perhaps patiently, because I know my Lord hears my cries.
he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire;
he set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.
-Psalm 40: 1-2
I frequently get comments about my patience (surprisingly, not my lack thereof!). I've asked people to explain before because typically when someone compliments me, I feel anything but patient inside. I'm usually taking slow breaths and trying not to scream! The response I consistently receive is that no matter how frustrated I might be inside, I keep my composure in the moment. There are good and bad parts to that trait (like it's great in a classroom but a pretty bad way to do life), but I am generally glad that it's something people say about me.
I don't know what patience should look like on the inside. I imagine someone who's totally peaceful... serene... a person floating along on a cloud while things slowly occur around her. However, as this verse has spun through my head lately, I've started to see something pretty different. Waiting patiently isn't always such a calm, sedate time... it can be a time of earnestly crying out, of being hopelessly stuck in the mud.
I doubt the people who see me day to day would say that I've been drowning in quicksand the past few weeks. It doesn't necessarily show on the outside, but that's the most accurate way to describe what I've felt. I've sung the words of Psalm 40 through over and over in my mind, but I haven't found a firm place to stand. Just the opposite: every time I start to think I've found a foothold, I fall deeper into the pit.
I've been angry with God, and I've struggled to accept the challenges He's placed before me this week. I don't understand this path or this timing, and I'm both physically and mentally exhausted. I want rest, not a new problem to solve.
Is this patience? Maybe... maybe not. I'm waiting at any rate. Waiting, perhaps patiently, because I know my Lord hears my cries.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
a compliment... and my frustration
This week my classroom has been a revolving door for the various behavior experts in the district. As always, I have some... challenging behaviors. For some reason I just seem to attract those kids. I can't really complain though... I love those darlings quite deeply.
Yesterday my babies got one of the best compliments I've ever received. A behavior specialist came in to observe and at the end of her visit she commented that my class was very supportive and well bonded for the beginning of the year... that they took care of and watched out for each other in a special way.
To me, this is nothing out of the ordinary. I've always had a gift for building those relationships with children. My class is bonded. They do love each other well, even the ones who are at times hard to love. It's an attitude that was introduced the first day we met, and by the time June comes around we'll all be crying on our way out the door. They are becoming a family.
Though I'm glad that I can build those relationships with my students, I find it incredibly frustrating that I just cannot form those same tight relationships with my peers. I know how to make it work better than anyone else I know in a classroom. Why can't I do it with my own life?
I know some of the answers. My fear holds me back, and taking risks with adults is much more intimidating than risking with children. I recognize that I play games with people... set them up to fail me because I'm so sure that they will. And my naturally introverted personality doesn't make relationship any easier either.
I've been burned so many times that I imagine trusting other adults is one of those things that will always be difficult for me, but I wish that it wasn't. I long for safe, consistent relationships... not the isolation that comes with my fear.
I assume that as with most fear, the longer I challenge it, the smaller it will become. For now I will just have to wait and hope...
Yesterday my babies got one of the best compliments I've ever received. A behavior specialist came in to observe and at the end of her visit she commented that my class was very supportive and well bonded for the beginning of the year... that they took care of and watched out for each other in a special way.
To me, this is nothing out of the ordinary. I've always had a gift for building those relationships with children. My class is bonded. They do love each other well, even the ones who are at times hard to love. It's an attitude that was introduced the first day we met, and by the time June comes around we'll all be crying on our way out the door. They are becoming a family.
Though I'm glad that I can build those relationships with my students, I find it incredibly frustrating that I just cannot form those same tight relationships with my peers. I know how to make it work better than anyone else I know in a classroom. Why can't I do it with my own life?
I know some of the answers. My fear holds me back, and taking risks with adults is much more intimidating than risking with children. I recognize that I play games with people... set them up to fail me because I'm so sure that they will. And my naturally introverted personality doesn't make relationship any easier either.
I've been burned so many times that I imagine trusting other adults is one of those things that will always be difficult for me, but I wish that it wasn't. I long for safe, consistent relationships... not the isolation that comes with my fear.
I assume that as with most fear, the longer I challenge it, the smaller it will become. For now I will just have to wait and hope...
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
finally!
It took almost exactly a month, but I finally feel settled again.
In case anyone was unsure, I do NOT do transitions well! I hate change, particularly change that I don't have any control over. I like consistency and order and rules, and when I don't have those things, my whole little world is thrown out of whack... seriously. I just cannot handle it.
So, this afternoon, I was sitting at my computer trying to catch up on e-mail when a mom walked in the room to discuss her daughter's struggles with transitions. What a timely topic, right? I listened quietly and attentively and tried to add some nonspecific advice from time to time, but the whole time I'm sitting there thinking "If you only knew who you're talking to..." I'm basically her daughter in grown up form.
Luckily, despite all my fear and frustration and sadness (and at times fit throwing), most of my recent changes have gone well. Me, the girl who's pretty much always hated teaching, found herself sitting with her kids this afternoon truly enjoying her new job. And GroupLink, for all my fussing, turned out really well. I'm actually having FUN meeting the new people (yes, H... I owe you an apology!).
This feels very disjointed, but I guess it's just going to be that way because I've been busy being my typical social butterfly self. No time to write, and now it's time for bed ;-)
Thanks for the prayers and comments during my transition drama... I am SO thankful it's over!
In case anyone was unsure, I do NOT do transitions well! I hate change, particularly change that I don't have any control over. I like consistency and order and rules, and when I don't have those things, my whole little world is thrown out of whack... seriously. I just cannot handle it.
So, this afternoon, I was sitting at my computer trying to catch up on e-mail when a mom walked in the room to discuss her daughter's struggles with transitions. What a timely topic, right? I listened quietly and attentively and tried to add some nonspecific advice from time to time, but the whole time I'm sitting there thinking "If you only knew who you're talking to..." I'm basically her daughter in grown up form.
Luckily, despite all my fear and frustration and sadness (and at times fit throwing), most of my recent changes have gone well. Me, the girl who's pretty much always hated teaching, found herself sitting with her kids this afternoon truly enjoying her new job. And GroupLink, for all my fussing, turned out really well. I'm actually having FUN meeting the new people (yes, H... I owe you an apology!).
This feels very disjointed, but I guess it's just going to be that way because I've been busy being my typical social butterfly self. No time to write, and now it's time for bed ;-)
Thanks for the prayers and comments during my transition drama... I am SO thankful it's over!
Saturday, September 6, 2008
loneliness
The first two weeks with my new class have gone by more smoothly than any before. Perhaps it's because I'm more experienced, finally confident in what I do. Maybe it's just the mix of kids or as my teammates have suggested, the luck of the draw. I prefer to think that God knew I had enough on my plate and gave me some grace. Whatever it is, I'm thankful to be enjoying teaching for once.
What I'm not enjoying is the loneliness that always seems to happen with significant change. I know there are others around me feeling it too. A little girl from my old campus hugs me every time she sees me in the hall though I barely knew her before. One of my former students, now a big first grader, called my cell phone this afternoon just to talk. I hang out with my former co-workers far more now than I ever did when we worked together, and I'm not even begging :-) I guess starting over is hard for us all.
Though it's not particularly fun, I can accept that loneliness. I chose this new start, and I know that the newness will wear off eventually. What I cannot come to terms with are the broken relationships and pain going on all around me because of the selfish and arrogant choice of one woman. Yes, I'm greatly simplifying the intricacy of relationship and giving her a lot of power, but unfortunately, it's not an exaggeration... being in a place of leadership, she held significant power in many lives. Hundreds of people are hurting, and unlike her, none of us had the luxury of choosing this path.
The past month has been almost completely consumed by navigating this conflict, and I often wake up wondering when things will finally feel settled again. I'd become spoiled with having such a large community. I knew that someone was always an e-mail or a phone call away, but now that I can count my friends on one hand, I frequently find myself alone. I'd forgotten how miserable and suffocating that can feel... it's not a feeling I've missed.
The obvious solution to my problem (as someone was so kind to point out to me this week) is to make new friends. I found that statement offensive... as though I could just go out and pick up friends like milk at the grocery store. If only it were that simple.
Tomorrow afternoon my husband and I will set out on the path to do just that: miraculously make new friends at GroupLink. To say that I'm skeptical would be a gross understatement. I've never exactly been trusting, and after the events of recent weeks, the last thing I want to do is dive headlong into relationship with people I am randomly paired with... but since I have no better idea, I'm giving it a shot.
I need people... real, live, tangible people who share my beliefs and will love and challenge me to keep going down the right path... and for the moment I'm just going to have to trust that somewhere in all of this mess God has a plan that I am unable to see.
What I'm not enjoying is the loneliness that always seems to happen with significant change. I know there are others around me feeling it too. A little girl from my old campus hugs me every time she sees me in the hall though I barely knew her before. One of my former students, now a big first grader, called my cell phone this afternoon just to talk. I hang out with my former co-workers far more now than I ever did when we worked together, and I'm not even begging :-) I guess starting over is hard for us all.
Though it's not particularly fun, I can accept that loneliness. I chose this new start, and I know that the newness will wear off eventually. What I cannot come to terms with are the broken relationships and pain going on all around me because of the selfish and arrogant choice of one woman. Yes, I'm greatly simplifying the intricacy of relationship and giving her a lot of power, but unfortunately, it's not an exaggeration... being in a place of leadership, she held significant power in many lives. Hundreds of people are hurting, and unlike her, none of us had the luxury of choosing this path.
The past month has been almost completely consumed by navigating this conflict, and I often wake up wondering when things will finally feel settled again. I'd become spoiled with having such a large community. I knew that someone was always an e-mail or a phone call away, but now that I can count my friends on one hand, I frequently find myself alone. I'd forgotten how miserable and suffocating that can feel... it's not a feeling I've missed.
The obvious solution to my problem (as someone was so kind to point out to me this week) is to make new friends. I found that statement offensive... as though I could just go out and pick up friends like milk at the grocery store. If only it were that simple.
Tomorrow afternoon my husband and I will set out on the path to do just that: miraculously make new friends at GroupLink. To say that I'm skeptical would be a gross understatement. I've never exactly been trusting, and after the events of recent weeks, the last thing I want to do is dive headlong into relationship with people I am randomly paired with... but since I have no better idea, I'm giving it a shot.
I need people... real, live, tangible people who share my beliefs and will love and challenge me to keep going down the right path... and for the moment I'm just going to have to trust that somewhere in all of this mess God has a plan that I am unable to see.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
exhaustion
The past three weeks have been a blur, and my patience and energy are all but gone.
After two weeks of serious bonding time with my cardiologist, all my tests came back normal. He's not quite sure how I can ride my bike for hours and still have the heart rate results I had, but nonetheless, I have no significant or serious heart problems. With all the drama in my life since, all the stress of tests and results and medical worries feels a million years away... how quickly things change.
I started back to work last week. The beginning of school is always insane, and this year the stress has been compounded by all the other changes going on in my life. I'm at a new school, and though I did choose this change, it's QUITE an adjustment. I miss my old teammates and my kids who came back to visit every year. I miss knowing all the little details of how the school runs and the safety of daily and year to year routines. I miss having people around me with similar philosophies, and I even miss the grind of life at a Title 1 campus... it's hard but rewarding in a way that my current job is not.
The other huge change is one I did not choose... the loss of many of my closest friends. I've stood for what I believe in, and while I'm proud of myself for not giving in to the pressure of others, I'm sad that refusing to rewrite truth has meant losing people I dearly loved. I've always heard stories of people standing up for their beliefs in the face of opposition, but it's never been me. I've always been able to have my beliefs without great cost. Though this doesn't begin to compare to what some people pay for standing up for Christ, it's not exactly a walk in the park.
As the days go on, I'm finding new routines and friendships at school. Perhaps I'll even feel at home there soon, but unfortunately, rebuilding my community will be harder. Most days I'm not sure I even want to. I feel like every time I try, I get burned...
After two weeks of serious bonding time with my cardiologist, all my tests came back normal. He's not quite sure how I can ride my bike for hours and still have the heart rate results I had, but nonetheless, I have no significant or serious heart problems. With all the drama in my life since, all the stress of tests and results and medical worries feels a million years away... how quickly things change.
I started back to work last week. The beginning of school is always insane, and this year the stress has been compounded by all the other changes going on in my life. I'm at a new school, and though I did choose this change, it's QUITE an adjustment. I miss my old teammates and my kids who came back to visit every year. I miss knowing all the little details of how the school runs and the safety of daily and year to year routines. I miss having people around me with similar philosophies, and I even miss the grind of life at a Title 1 campus... it's hard but rewarding in a way that my current job is not.
The other huge change is one I did not choose... the loss of many of my closest friends. I've stood for what I believe in, and while I'm proud of myself for not giving in to the pressure of others, I'm sad that refusing to rewrite truth has meant losing people I dearly loved. I've always heard stories of people standing up for their beliefs in the face of opposition, but it's never been me. I've always been able to have my beliefs without great cost. Though this doesn't begin to compare to what some people pay for standing up for Christ, it's not exactly a walk in the park.
As the days go on, I'm finding new routines and friendships at school. Perhaps I'll even feel at home there soon, but unfortunately, rebuilding my community will be harder. Most days I'm not sure I even want to. I feel like every time I try, I get burned...
Monday, August 11, 2008
sweeping up the dust
I've learned over the past year or so that being a grown up is just straight up messy. Yes, there are many positives, and no, I don't want to go back where I was... but I could do without the messiness.
A year ago, I finally found a home... a group of people who loved me, a safe haven where I could be myself without fear. This weekend I watched as the decision of another shattered the trust and unconditional love that typifies that community. My heart is broken.
I don't know how (or if) those relationships will weather this storm, but if the past two days are any sign, we'll be picking up the pieces for years to come... and I just wonder why it had to be this way. I know we're all imperfect and we all make mistakes, but still... it just isn't fair. I worked SO hard and took risks and did everything that was asked of me, even when I didn't want to.
And now, one year later, I'm alone... again.
A year ago, I finally found a home... a group of people who loved me, a safe haven where I could be myself without fear. This weekend I watched as the decision of another shattered the trust and unconditional love that typifies that community. My heart is broken.
I don't know how (or if) those relationships will weather this storm, but if the past two days are any sign, we'll be picking up the pieces for years to come... and I just wonder why it had to be this way. I know we're all imperfect and we all make mistakes, but still... it just isn't fair. I worked SO hard and took risks and did everything that was asked of me, even when I didn't want to.
And now, one year later, I'm alone... again.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
the joy of a new beginning
I'm ready to meet my new class.
Every year about this time I suddenly become overly excited about going back to work. I'm not sure what causes the miraculous change of heart, but it always happens. Maybe it's all the training I do over the summer, or perhaps it's just getting bored with time off. Whatever the cause, today the excitement hit.
Aside from Abydos, I've been reading lots of Lucy Calkins. She describes teaching with such love and devotion that it's hard not to get sucked in. The Art of Teaching Writing is a long, wordy book... it has the look of a college textbook and could definitely be used for that purpose (I think it actually was one of mine, though I long ago sold it back). Her Units of Primary Study are more easily accessible, short and to the point in general. I've immersed myself fully in both, and though I already knew Lucy Calkins was a brilliant educator, I've enjoyed "hearing" her voice and seeing her love for the craft. I'm inspired, and I have a renewed sense of purpose. I'm ready to get started.
Luckily this excitement has drowned out the frustration of finally getting the keys to my classroom only to find that it's empty (and being told I already have a parent waiting to meet me... can't be good!). I guess I'll deal with that on Friday!
On a totally different note, tomorrow is the day for the latest round of testing on my heart. I'm less worried than I thought I would be, but I'll still be glad when it's over. Hopefully everything will come back clear and the weight of worry will be lifted...
And now I must quit procrastinating and finish my final Abydos piece!
Every year about this time I suddenly become overly excited about going back to work. I'm not sure what causes the miraculous change of heart, but it always happens. Maybe it's all the training I do over the summer, or perhaps it's just getting bored with time off. Whatever the cause, today the excitement hit.
Aside from Abydos, I've been reading lots of Lucy Calkins. She describes teaching with such love and devotion that it's hard not to get sucked in. The Art of Teaching Writing is a long, wordy book... it has the look of a college textbook and could definitely be used for that purpose (I think it actually was one of mine, though I long ago sold it back). Her Units of Primary Study are more easily accessible, short and to the point in general. I've immersed myself fully in both, and though I already knew Lucy Calkins was a brilliant educator, I've enjoyed "hearing" her voice and seeing her love for the craft. I'm inspired, and I have a renewed sense of purpose. I'm ready to get started.
Luckily this excitement has drowned out the frustration of finally getting the keys to my classroom only to find that it's empty (and being told I already have a parent waiting to meet me... can't be good!). I guess I'll deal with that on Friday!
On a totally different note, tomorrow is the day for the latest round of testing on my heart. I'm less worried than I thought I would be, but I'll still be glad when it's over. Hopefully everything will come back clear and the weight of worry will be lifted...
And now I must quit procrastinating and finish my final Abydos piece!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
no, I didn't use ratiocination...
I've spent the last week and a half learning about the writing process and creating a fabulous piece to publish in our workshop anthology, but I have no intention of applying ANY of that tonight.
I finished the latest rewrite of my anthology piece (number five, maybe?) this afternoon as I sat cross-legged on the examining table in my cardiologist's office waiting to hear the results of my latest EKG. I knew it would be normal (they always are), but I almost hoped for an irregularity... something tangible to show what's going on silently inside my chest. Instead, I got the normal result I expected and a week to look forward to the next round of tests.
I'm thrilled to know that the doctor believes I have a healthy 26 year old heart... possibly a heart rhythm problem that can be easily treated, but nothing unmanageable... but in the back of my mind a persistent voice whispers doubt. What if it's not simple? What if there IS a serious problem? What if, what if, what if... it's an evil little question.
I have a feeling the what ifs will be hard to drown out this week. The anxiety that had ebbed a bit as the doctor calmly explained how the electrical system in my heart works and what he thought might be going on is slowly rising again, and suddenly I'm without words to express the fear that's tightening its grasp on me.
August 6 cannot come soon enough...
I finished the latest rewrite of my anthology piece (number five, maybe?) this afternoon as I sat cross-legged on the examining table in my cardiologist's office waiting to hear the results of my latest EKG. I knew it would be normal (they always are), but I almost hoped for an irregularity... something tangible to show what's going on silently inside my chest. Instead, I got the normal result I expected and a week to look forward to the next round of tests.
I'm thrilled to know that the doctor believes I have a healthy 26 year old heart... possibly a heart rhythm problem that can be easily treated, but nothing unmanageable... but in the back of my mind a persistent voice whispers doubt. What if it's not simple? What if there IS a serious problem? What if, what if, what if... it's an evil little question.
I have a feeling the what ifs will be hard to drown out this week. The anxiety that had ebbed a bit as the doctor calmly explained how the electrical system in my heart works and what he thought might be going on is slowly rising again, and suddenly I'm without words to express the fear that's tightening its grasp on me.
August 6 cannot come soon enough...
Sunday, July 27, 2008
OMG! The Jonas Brothers are AWESOME!!!
Conversation as I watched Hannah Montana in 3D...Bailey: (excited) I can't believe the Jonas Brothers are moving to Texas!
Brooke: (seriously) I know they'll be like 30 or 20 minutes away... we could MEET them. But you wouldn't want to...
Bailey: (confused) Why not?!?
Brooke: Well, you might faint, and you wouldn't want to faint.
Bailey: (swooning) For them I would...
Friday, July 25, 2008
a long, long week
The first weeks back at work after summer always feel about three years long, and this one was no exception. I'm still loving Abydos... it's cathartic to have hours devoted to nothing but writing whatever I want... but the early mornings are killing me.
I'm spending the weekend with two of my favorite little girls... one of whom is playing the piano for me at the moment (sorry, P, we're up really late!!). We've had a fun evening. I've fed them far too much sugar and junk food, and I have plans of continuing this tomorrow along with letting them play with my Wii and watch the Disney Channel for hours on end... this is why they request me to babysit!
I'm being summoned to watch more tv, so I should finish up I guess.
Check out our friends Chris and Lindsay's blog... they could use your prayers.
I'm spending the weekend with two of my favorite little girls... one of whom is playing the piano for me at the moment (sorry, P, we're up really late!!). We've had a fun evening. I've fed them far too much sugar and junk food, and I have plans of continuing this tomorrow along with letting them play with my Wii and watch the Disney Channel for hours on end... this is why they request me to babysit!
I'm being summoned to watch more tv, so I should finish up I guess.
Check out our friends Chris and Lindsay's blog... they could use your prayers.
Monday, July 21, 2008
the beginning of a journey
Today was the first day of my district's Abydos writing institute.
I've been VERY ambivalent about going for the past several weeks. I love writing, and I had heard this training was amazing. But, twelve days of training at the end of the summer is a huge commitment. I ended up going, and so far I have no regrets.
Tonight I have homework for the first time in five years, and rather than dread, I'm filled with excitement. The topic interests me, and I'm authentically engaged (I know, the WOW training is coming out!!)... something I could rarely say in the past. In fact, today as I worked on a project about my previous experiences as a writer, the overwhelming pattern was that I hated writing in school. I was told how to write. I was told what to write. I was told how long to write. Writing always felt like a chore... just another thing to check off the list. The assignments weren't authentic or important. There was no audience. I had no investment outside of getting a good grade. Today was different.
I could go on for hours about the writing I did today. I'm proud of it, even though much of it was atrocious. I explored ideas and started stories, and while many of them will never be finished, a few might. I felt safe in trying things out because I knew I wouldn't receive a grade or be forced to share when I didn't want to. I can't wait to go back tomorrow and write again... I've never been to a training like this.
I pride myself on making my classroom a safe and welcoming place. By all accounts I do, but after experiencing this for myself, I know I'll look closer at the words I say and the procedures I put in place. What a goal to strive for... that every child would be authentically engaged and internally motivated to learn. That classroom would be a true joy!
I can honestly say that I'm excited about teaching, and I haven't felt that in... well, a really long time.
I'm sure I'll have more to say over the next three weeks, but for now I'm going to rest. Even a fun day of training is long after this many weeks off.
I've been VERY ambivalent about going for the past several weeks. I love writing, and I had heard this training was amazing. But, twelve days of training at the end of the summer is a huge commitment. I ended up going, and so far I have no regrets.
Tonight I have homework for the first time in five years, and rather than dread, I'm filled with excitement. The topic interests me, and I'm authentically engaged (I know, the WOW training is coming out!!)... something I could rarely say in the past. In fact, today as I worked on a project about my previous experiences as a writer, the overwhelming pattern was that I hated writing in school. I was told how to write. I was told what to write. I was told how long to write. Writing always felt like a chore... just another thing to check off the list. The assignments weren't authentic or important. There was no audience. I had no investment outside of getting a good grade. Today was different.
I could go on for hours about the writing I did today. I'm proud of it, even though much of it was atrocious. I explored ideas and started stories, and while many of them will never be finished, a few might. I felt safe in trying things out because I knew I wouldn't receive a grade or be forced to share when I didn't want to. I can't wait to go back tomorrow and write again... I've never been to a training like this.
I pride myself on making my classroom a safe and welcoming place. By all accounts I do, but after experiencing this for myself, I know I'll look closer at the words I say and the procedures I put in place. What a goal to strive for... that every child would be authentically engaged and internally motivated to learn. That classroom would be a true joy!
I can honestly say that I'm excited about teaching, and I haven't felt that in... well, a really long time.
I'm sure I'll have more to say over the next three weeks, but for now I'm going to rest. Even a fun day of training is long after this many weeks off.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
beyond my wildest dreams
Three years ago this week, my life was in turmoil.
On July 8, 2005 I was packing the moving truck that would take all my belongings to Dallas and only days away from my wedding. I was excited and hopeful and lost in my own little fairy tale dream of how perfect my life was going to be... then I answered my phone.
When I think back to that week, I remember very little, but what I do remember is incredibly vivid. I remember the exact spot where I was standing in the parking lot of my apartment when I got the call about Kim, and I remember leaning on my car and letting the metal burn my bare skin as the words I heard slowly sank in. I remember leaving a wedding shower then running for miles and miles in the suffocating July heat as tears ran uncontrollably down my cheeks because the physical pain somehow alleviated the aching in my heart. I remember racing through my bridal portraits then ripping off my veil and quickly throwing on a black dress to attend a funeral that never should have happened. And I remember moving numbly through my wedding, still a bit in shock at how life was continuing as if nothing had happened while my emotions hadn't yet caught up.
My husband and I mark our third anniversary today, and while I love my husband dearly and cannot fathom my life without him, this day is always a little bittersweet. The memories of our wedding will always be intricately woven with the memories of Kim's death... a bit of a blessing and a curse.
My idyllic bubble burst that Friday morning, and shortly after our wedding I fell into a deep depression. I was utterly unequipped to deal with the grief I was experiencing, and everyone around me expected a glowing, happy-go-lucky newlywed. I was alone in Dallas, miserable in my job, and desperately missed my friends and church in College Station. My safety net was gone, and I crashed fast and hard. Within a matter of months, I was hardly eating, and I was sleeping more than I was awake. Though I covered it well in public, I was falling apart... and for the first time in my life I couldn't run.
In the book Sacred Marriage, Gary Thomas suggests that God's plan for marriage has far more to do with our holiness than our happiness. I can't speak for everyone, but in my case, it definitely works. Though there have been moments of tremendous happiness, these three years have been filled to the brim with struggles that have pushed both of us to increased holiness. I'd be lying if I said it had been easy or even that I've recognized all along what a blessing I was receiving because, honestly, it's been rough. There have been many days that I wanted to walk away, and many more that I was angry at how hard I was having to work just to find some semblance of normalcy. It's only been recently that the balance has shifted.
Most of the first three years of our marriage have been defined by my illness. I've wished more times than I can count that I had gotten help earlier, before I involved someone else, but I recognize now that outside of marriage, I would have never had a reason to put myself through the pain that comes with healing.
I know I wouldn't have chosen this path... the path of discomfort, struggling, pain. I would have much preferred the easy road... the fairy tale I dreamed of. Fortunately, I didn't get to choose. The God who knit me together before I was born had a greater plan than I could have ever asked or imagined.
love you, B. Happy anniversary.
On July 8, 2005 I was packing the moving truck that would take all my belongings to Dallas and only days away from my wedding. I was excited and hopeful and lost in my own little fairy tale dream of how perfect my life was going to be... then I answered my phone.
When I think back to that week, I remember very little, but what I do remember is incredibly vivid. I remember the exact spot where I was standing in the parking lot of my apartment when I got the call about Kim, and I remember leaning on my car and letting the metal burn my bare skin as the words I heard slowly sank in. I remember leaving a wedding shower then running for miles and miles in the suffocating July heat as tears ran uncontrollably down my cheeks because the physical pain somehow alleviated the aching in my heart. I remember racing through my bridal portraits then ripping off my veil and quickly throwing on a black dress to attend a funeral that never should have happened. And I remember moving numbly through my wedding, still a bit in shock at how life was continuing as if nothing had happened while my emotions hadn't yet caught up.
My husband and I mark our third anniversary today, and while I love my husband dearly and cannot fathom my life without him, this day is always a little bittersweet. The memories of our wedding will always be intricately woven with the memories of Kim's death... a bit of a blessing and a curse.
My idyllic bubble burst that Friday morning, and shortly after our wedding I fell into a deep depression. I was utterly unequipped to deal with the grief I was experiencing, and everyone around me expected a glowing, happy-go-lucky newlywed. I was alone in Dallas, miserable in my job, and desperately missed my friends and church in College Station. My safety net was gone, and I crashed fast and hard. Within a matter of months, I was hardly eating, and I was sleeping more than I was awake. Though I covered it well in public, I was falling apart... and for the first time in my life I couldn't run.
In the book Sacred Marriage, Gary Thomas suggests that God's plan for marriage has far more to do with our holiness than our happiness. I can't speak for everyone, but in my case, it definitely works. Though there have been moments of tremendous happiness, these three years have been filled to the brim with struggles that have pushed both of us to increased holiness. I'd be lying if I said it had been easy or even that I've recognized all along what a blessing I was receiving because, honestly, it's been rough. There have been many days that I wanted to walk away, and many more that I was angry at how hard I was having to work just to find some semblance of normalcy. It's only been recently that the balance has shifted.
Most of the first three years of our marriage have been defined by my illness. I've wished more times than I can count that I had gotten help earlier, before I involved someone else, but I recognize now that outside of marriage, I would have never had a reason to put myself through the pain that comes with healing.
I know I wouldn't have chosen this path... the path of discomfort, struggling, pain. I would have much preferred the easy road... the fairy tale I dreamed of. Fortunately, I didn't get to choose. The God who knit me together before I was born had a greater plan than I could have ever asked or imagined.
love you, B. Happy anniversary.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
my love affair with cupcakes
Although our actual anniversary is Wednesday, my husband and I celebrated yesterday, and because he is the best husband EVER, he got me a fabulous gift. What you may ask? Jewelry? Flowers? Something ridiculously expensive and totally frivolous? Nope. None of the above. He bought me a dozen cupcakes. I was so thrilled when I opened the box that I collapsed on the sofa in our hotel room in a state of sheer bliss.These weren't just any cupcakes. They were cupcakes from one of the best bakeries in Dallas. Cupcakes in three flavors, each with different icing and sprinkles. Fattening balls of pure sugar with no dietary value... my dream come true! I must have found my Prince Charming :-)
But on a more serious note, our third anniversary was definitely the best so far. We earned it, for sure (maybe I'll post a little about that later this week), but for now I'm just glad to revel in the fun we had this weekend. We spent the afternoon exploring the Bishop Arts District before dinner at Hibiscus (amazing!) and spending the night downtown at the Adolphus (and then waking up at the crack of dawn to serve at OYM). It was the perfect way to celebrate how far we've come and how much we've shared in our life together.It's a little hard to believe that we've been married for three years, but at the same time it's hard
to remember what it was like before I was married. I so look forward to coming home to my husband and my puppy that I cannot fathom how utterly miserable life must have been before. Ok, so that's a bit of an exaggeration, but as I sit here tonight with Maggie snuggled up at my feet having just finished cooking dinner with my husband, I'm so thankful for my own little family... the safe, warm, loving home I always dreamed of. Though we've definitely had our rough patches, I wouldn't trade this weekend for the world.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
my chemical imbalance is cooler than yours...
I know it will shock some of you, but I religiously read the website dooce.com. If you're brave, you can check it out... it's one of my links. The author, Heather Armstrong, is pretty much everything I'm not: an outgoing and vocal ex-Mormon who can be crude at times.
I respect her immensely.
Last December I opened my inbox to find a link to one of her recent entries:
http://www.dooce.com/2007/12/13/because-i-couldnt-say-it-phone
I read it mostly so I would be able to have an educated discussion if that friend asked what I thought, but I was immediately hooked. Her honesty hit straight to my heart because I could relate to every word she said.
Like Heather, I've dealt with chronic depression and anxiety for most of my life. I knew as a young teenager that something was very wrong, but I chose for years not to get help. I was afraid of the stigma of therapy, not to mention a label, and I was steadfastly opposed to medication... until I finally hit rock bottom and all the prayer and Bible study in the world couldn't pull me out of my darkness. I realized I had a choice: treatment or death. I went with treatment.
For a long time, I kept my choice a secret. In fact, to a number of people I know, it's still a secret, and that saddens me. I consider my experience in therapy and my relationship with my therapist to be one of the greatest blessings in my life, and though I'm still not a fan of needing daily medication, I'm thankful for the stability it provides. I've learned a tremendous amount about grace and what it means to love like Jesus from the people who've walked through treatment with me. I've finally begun to see myself as He sees me. Recovery has been excruciating at times, but I have never experienced God as tangibly as I have during these months. I couldn't be luckier.
Unfortunately, in the conservative Christian circles I run in, far too many people still believe that mental illness and particularly being on psychotropic drugs makes a person less of a Christian. This ignorance deeply saddens me. So many aching people are isolated from the mainstream church because we hide our hurts, habits, and hangups for the sake of looking like the picture perfect congregation. So many others hide within the church for fear of being ostracized if people knew who they really were. That so many might miss out on the healing God can bring because admitting their imperfections would open them up to ridicule breaks my heart.
I hope that as mental illness slowly loses its stigma in society in general, the body of Christ will follow and envelop the hurting in its loving arms. Until then, I pray that the hurting people around me will find the courage to seek recovery even if it's not easy. I did, and it is a choice I will never regret.
I respect her immensely.
Last December I opened my inbox to find a link to one of her recent entries:
http://www.dooce.com/2007/12/13/because-i-couldnt-say-it-phone
I read it mostly so I would be able to have an educated discussion if that friend asked what I thought, but I was immediately hooked. Her honesty hit straight to my heart because I could relate to every word she said.
Like Heather, I've dealt with chronic depression and anxiety for most of my life. I knew as a young teenager that something was very wrong, but I chose for years not to get help. I was afraid of the stigma of therapy, not to mention a label, and I was steadfastly opposed to medication... until I finally hit rock bottom and all the prayer and Bible study in the world couldn't pull me out of my darkness. I realized I had a choice: treatment or death. I went with treatment.
For a long time, I kept my choice a secret. In fact, to a number of people I know, it's still a secret, and that saddens me. I consider my experience in therapy and my relationship with my therapist to be one of the greatest blessings in my life, and though I'm still not a fan of needing daily medication, I'm thankful for the stability it provides. I've learned a tremendous amount about grace and what it means to love like Jesus from the people who've walked through treatment with me. I've finally begun to see myself as He sees me. Recovery has been excruciating at times, but I have never experienced God as tangibly as I have during these months. I couldn't be luckier.
Unfortunately, in the conservative Christian circles I run in, far too many people still believe that mental illness and particularly being on psychotropic drugs makes a person less of a Christian. This ignorance deeply saddens me. So many aching people are isolated from the mainstream church because we hide our hurts, habits, and hangups for the sake of looking like the picture perfect congregation. So many others hide within the church for fear of being ostracized if people knew who they really were. That so many might miss out on the healing God can bring because admitting their imperfections would open them up to ridicule breaks my heart.
I hope that as mental illness slowly loses its stigma in society in general, the body of Christ will follow and envelop the hurting in its loving arms. Until then, I pray that the hurting people around me will find the courage to seek recovery even if it's not easy. I did, and it is a choice I will never regret.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
the abundance of summer
It's 1:30 am, and I'm wide awake. What better time to start a blog, right?
This summer has been a joy... quite a distinct difference from others in recent memory. I'm enjoying my house and my new dog. I'm reading voraciously. I go swimming and get sunburned and have fun just for the sake of having fun. I'm relaxed (for the most part) and happy. I think this is how regular people do summer.
When I think about seasons, I think of Parker Palmer and his use of seasons as a metaphor for our lives. These past calm months mark the longest and most bountiful "summer" of my life, a summer I never really believed would happen. Most of my life has been filled with alternating falls, winters, and springs. But when I think about the kind of summer Palmer describes... that abundance hasn't been there.
I've spent the vast majority of my life paralyzed by fear. I don't know when I first closed everyone out, but I remember even in preschool being petrified of letting anyone see my imperfection. I continued through adulthood to carefully erect giant barriers to keep people from getting too close with the result being my own impenetrable fortress. I didn't allow anyone to see the real me, not even myself. I thought that was the way to find the abundance I longed for... to earn the love I so desired by being outwardly perfect. How wrong I was.
Over the past year, as I've slowly let down my walls, I've found that abundance in authentic community. By the grace of God, I have a place where I've been able to lay my faults and wounds bare for all to see, and rather than being abandoned as I feared, I'm loved all the more. I'm free to be the joyful woman God created me to be, and in that freedom, to continue to grow and find who that woman is. That kind of love, that freedom, that joy... that's the abundance I was missing.
I'm glad to have experienced the bounty of summer, though I know fall will return all too soon.
I'll close with a quote from Palmer:
This summer has been a joy... quite a distinct difference from others in recent memory. I'm enjoying my house and my new dog. I'm reading voraciously. I go swimming and get sunburned and have fun just for the sake of having fun. I'm relaxed (for the most part) and happy. I think this is how regular people do summer.
When I think about seasons, I think of Parker Palmer and his use of seasons as a metaphor for our lives. These past calm months mark the longest and most bountiful "summer" of my life, a summer I never really believed would happen. Most of my life has been filled with alternating falls, winters, and springs. But when I think about the kind of summer Palmer describes... that abundance hasn't been there.
I've spent the vast majority of my life paralyzed by fear. I don't know when I first closed everyone out, but I remember even in preschool being petrified of letting anyone see my imperfection. I continued through adulthood to carefully erect giant barriers to keep people from getting too close with the result being my own impenetrable fortress. I didn't allow anyone to see the real me, not even myself. I thought that was the way to find the abundance I longed for... to earn the love I so desired by being outwardly perfect. How wrong I was.
Over the past year, as I've slowly let down my walls, I've found that abundance in authentic community. By the grace of God, I have a place where I've been able to lay my faults and wounds bare for all to see, and rather than being abandoned as I feared, I'm loved all the more. I'm free to be the joyful woman God created me to be, and in that freedom, to continue to grow and find who that woman is. That kind of love, that freedom, that joy... that's the abundance I was missing.
I'm glad to have experienced the bounty of summer, though I know fall will return all too soon.
I'll close with a quote from Palmer:
"In the human world, abundance does not happen automatically. It is created when we have the sense to choose community, to come together to celebrate and share our common store... Authentic abundance does not lie in secured stockpiles of food or cash or influence or affection, but in belonging to a community where we can give those goods to others who need them – and receive them from others when we are in need."Good night.
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