a glimpse of the sky

eighteen weeks

2011-06-16T23:00:00.001-05:00

We've made it eighteen weeks. I'm still just as nervous as I was the day we found out, and I'm starting to think that's not really going to improve. I'm also still sick at least 50% of the time, and while that's obviously a huge improvement over 100% of the time, it's by no means fun. I think all the nausea is really hampering my ability to appreciate each moment I'm given...

Despite the undercurrent of anxiety, worry hasn't really been my focus this week. I'm sure that (along with the three straight months of sickness) contributes to the awful mood I'm in, but I'm going to attribute the mood mostly to the fact that I'm back in my normal place of feeling alone. I don't see why we have to constantly fixate on life stage as the basis for relationships, but inevitably, someone wants to go that way. And it sucks to lose people I care about because of something that should be good. Yes, I'm married, and we're going to have a baby. No, that doesn't mean I can no longer be your friend.

It's particularly frustrating to me that it always seems to be my Christian friends who want to take that route. I get the temptation. I hate change as much as anyone, but being on the other side, it hurts when your friends abandon you. It's also really hard to explain to my non-Christian friends why they would want to consider Christ when they see how much pain these "church" relationships end up causing me. They don't get why I keep coming back, and it's a fair question. We've been friends for years, and they would never dream of cutting someone out just for getting married or divorced or having or not having kids. Why would they want to subject themselves to this?

So today I'm sad and just want this week to be over. Maybe tomorrow will be better.

excited?

2011-05-24T20:50:00.002-05:00

The day I thought would never come is here: I'm pregnant!

And now I don't really know what to say.

I know all the "right" things, but for some reason those just don't seem to fit right now. As we've gradually told people over the past couple of weeks, the question I've been asked more than any other is, "Are you excited?!?" It's a totally "right" question, and for my own sake and the sake of the happy askers, I usually just say yes. But, if I'm honest, I'm not excited. While I appreciate the huge blessing we've been given, this doesn't feel real. I want to feel the hopeful happiness I see others feeling, but I can't stop thinking that something this good can't actually be happening, not to me. So it's not exactly exciting... it's surreal.

We found out a little over two months ago, and since then I've spent most of my time certain that I'd have a miscarriage. When I reached the point where that became less likely, I moved on to other fears. I can think of a million ways this could turn out badly, but after years of thinking it could never happen for us and watching so many people go through heartbreak after heartbreak, I just can't let myself believe that we might have an actual, precious little baby to hold in November. The risk feels too big.

So for today, I'm cautiously optimistic (so cautiously that I'm a little afraid to admit there's even a glimmer of hope), not excited. We'll have to wait and see what tomorrow brings...

conversations with five year olds

2011-03-02T21:55:00.002-06:00

The scene: Table covered with bottles of paint, paintbrushes, and paper.

Kid: What are you doing?

Me (clearly stirring paint): Mixing the paint so you can start on your picture of Little Blue and Little Yellow.

Kid: Why is it taking so long?

Me: Well, the paint in your picture is sort of yellowish green, but this green is too blue. I have to make it match.

As I continue to stir a small drop of paint splashes from the container onto my finger.

Kid (highly concerned): There's PAINT on your finger.

Me: I know. It's ok. I'll clean it off when I'm done, but thanks for letting me know.

Kid continues watching my hand very intently as though it might explode.

Kid (after obvious consideration): Well, don't lick it, ok?

I stop stirring and look to see if he's actually serious and determine that he does, in fact, think there is a chance I might lick tempera paint off my finger.

Me (quite seriously): Ok. I definitely won't.

Kid smiles, obviously relieved, and walks away.

Just another day in kindergarten...

always the same

2011-02-12T18:22:00.003-06:00

Last night we saw Jill Phillips in concert.

For you to understand the rest of the post, you'll need to know something almost no one knows about me: I absolutely adore Jill Phillips. I think she might be my favorite singer, and considering how much I love music, that says a lot. One album in particular lived in the CD player in my car for at least two years, and had it not been scratched, it might have never left. Her music is honest and humble, and many of the ideas she sings about are things that I wrestle with constantly... I LOVE Jill.

So, needless to say, I've been super excited about this concert, and it lived up to every one of my expectations. But, from the moment she hit the first note, I had to fight back tears. I'm pretty good at ignoring God when I'm hurting, but the familiarity of her voice and the intimacy of her lyrics pulled me back to the present. The music was too embedded in my soul to be ignored.

For the past couple of weeks, I've been dealing with lots of drama... primarily in the form of CPS reports. As a teacher, I've reported more families than I can remember over the past eight years. It's always sad, but it comes with the territory, particularly when teaching younger kids because they have no filter. If something weird is going on at home, they talk about it. Most often, everything turns out to be ok. Unfortunately, this situation has completely blown up, and once again I've been faced with difficult questions about the character of God.

I don't understand why God chooses to put children in that sort of situation, particularly when there are so many perfectly fit couples who desperately want children that he doesn't allow them to have. There are plenty of other hard questions about God that I'll never have an answer to, but working with children and dealing with infertility, that one seems to come up a lot for me. Why them? Why not us? My response tends to be distance... to pull away from this God I don't understand, this God who would rather let children be beaten than allow us to parent... and then I start to doubt the sovereignty and goodness of his plan.

That's where I've been lately. Distant. But last night, sitting in a very nondescript chair in a tiny, strip mall church, I felt God's presence in a way I haven't in quite awhile. The hope I asked for on Thursday night was there, and though I tried to push it away, by the time Jill started singing her last song, tears were rolling down my cheeks. It was an old song, my very favorite: I Am... all about the character of God.

I don't understand God's plan for us, and I certainly don't understand God's plan for the child I've anguished over for the past few weeks, but as he reminded me last night, I know he hasn't changed. He's still here with me, knows all my deepest doubts and fears, and still loves me just the same as he always has. He's still wise, and he's still in control, even when the situation seems completely abysmal.

I'm not sure I'm ready to totally let go of my doubt and allow him to comfort me in my pain. I can't reconcile the idea that the comfort would come from the one who's allowing the heartache, but at least I remember that he'll be there when I finally can.

ice, Isaiah, and hope

2011-02-10T21:51:00.005-06:00

So the ice week was INCREDIBLY boring! Having four days off school sounds fun, but it wasn't that great. I had to sit at home because our driveway and street were insanely slippery, and after four days without seeing anyone except my husband I was mostly ready to scream... nothing remotely interesting happened.

This week has been just slightly more eventful. We've only been out of school for a day, but I've still spent most of the evenings at home. One positive side effect of the new, stricter diet has been that we rarely eat out or even go anywhere after my husband comes home from work... great for a budget but not so exciting to write about! Life has been calm, and that's been fabulous. It just doesn't make for an interesting blog.

Tonight I finally made it out into the real world for the first week of the spring women's Bible study. I've been excited to see my old friends, but I've been even more interested to start our study of Isaiah. As I walked out of the stairwell into the crowd of people around the registration table I saw the books we would be using stacked up next to the rosters, and I was at once thrilled and taken aback by the title of the commentary, Be Comforted. I know there's so much more in Isaiah than just hope, but I'm not sure there could be a better title to describe what I most want from God right now: to feel his presence and love... to be comforted.

So I'm hopeful. It's going to be a great study. I even talked with a new girl in my group who lives in my neighborhood. ME. I talked to someone new and actually connected. On the first night. Amazing.

The semester (of Bible study, anyway) is off to a good start!

good stuff!

2011-01-30T20:43:00.002-06:00

Ok, so I had high hopes of writing a positive, cheerful post this week, and I'm going to. My week was, um... interesting, I guess. Lots of extremes, both high and low, but I'm in the mood to forget the awful and focus on the good. So here you go! A list of the good stuff...

1. Eating organic strawberries... as it turns out, fruit tastes SO much yummier now that I'm not constantly stuffing my face with processed sugar.

2. Winning the lunch room award for the 2nd week in a row! We got to have extra recess Friday in the gorgeous sun. Amazing.

3. Co-workers who took up the slack when I was dealing with crisis and helped my kids make the puppets that rocked the rest of our day... infinitely thankful.

4. Getting to go to dinner with my husband before he left for the weekend

5. Wearing short sleeves and capris yesterday... totally needed the spring-like sun!

6. Playing Clue with some great friends... can't remember the last time I played Clue, but it was my favorite as a kid. Luckily we caught the dastardly Mr. Green in the kitchen with the lead pipe before he made his escape.

7. Receiving a beautiful calendar with photos taken by a friend and scriptures that will encourage me all year... the gift that will keep on giving even when things are hard. :)

It seems like a sort of short list, but I think seven will do for this post. Perhaps I'll have more next week.

the new diet

2011-01-29T20:49:00.001-06:00

For the past four years or so I've had an ongoing war with my dietitian over the fact that I eat far too many carbohydrates and not enough protein. At first I tried to appease her by following her plan, but as time passed I sort of gave up. I never got all the protein in, and I was still relatively healthy. I'd go through phases of compliance and attempted to eat protein at every meal even on the bad days, but the issue never really went away.

Fast forward to last Friday. I'm sitting in my doctor's office listening to her debate possible diagnoses when it comes up that a possible treatment for one of the conditions is a low-carb diet. Now, I went into this appointment knowing that I could hear all sorts of bad news, but my immediate thought when she said that was, "You've got to be kidding me. This is the WORST!" I know. It sounds so absolutely self-centered and immature, but in that moment it felt like I was being told that not only do I have to deal with infertility and all that goes with that, I now have to give up everything I like to eat, possibly for the rest of my life... and that sounded like one too many things to deal with right now.

It took a bit, but I calmed down and accepted that miserable as it might be, I had to change my diet. At first it was every bit as awful as I expected. I walked out of the grocery store early in the week with an entire basket of foods that were completely unappealing to me, and I wanted to cry. In fact, that was how I felt with every bite of food for the first 4 or 5 days. However, once I got past the initial shock, it hasn't been as hard as I thought it would be. I'm finding foods that I like that have more protein, and I don't miss sugar as much as I did in the beginning. I'm even excited about the food I bought at the grocery store this afternoon. Who knows if it will work the way we're hoping, but at least for the time being I'm in a much better mood.

Maybe this will be great... can't hurt to hope, right?

the tipping point

2011-01-22T22:30:00.004-06:00

I had a crummy week.

I want to write a positive post because I feel guilty for spending so much time complaining about what I don't have when I've been immensely blessed in comparison to most of the rest of the world, but if I'm honest, it's been a hard week. I've spent so much time worrying about and waiting for doctor's appointments and test results that I've become even more self-absorbed than usual. Life has revolved completely around me, and being me hasn't been very fun.

My new student teacher came for the first time this Wednesday, and I realized about five minutes in that starting down the path of fertility treatments has already changed me for the worse. I think I was a pretty good mentor in the fall, but just the thought of mentoring this new girl makes me tired. It's not that I think she'll be particularly difficult or anything. It's just that she's one more person I have to take care of, and taking care of extra people feels really hard when I've got so much going on outside of school.

Teaching little bitties has always been emotionally demanding. In fact, it used to feel crushing to me, but this year it hasn't. Until this week, picking up my kids in the mornings tended to be the highlight of the day. They would see me walk in the door and jump up, all fighting to be first to tell me whatever exciting news they've picked up since the previous afternoon, and the stress of the rest of my life would melt away. This week that didn't happen. There were moments that they'd do or say something precious and I'd get pulled back in for a bit, but apparently I've reached the tipping point where the stress is too much to sweep under the carpet with a few cute smiles. Adding responsibilities certainly didn't help.

I'm beyond thankful for the moments that were special. Seeing a picture of words written in chalk on a sidewalk proclaiming to the world that I take care of my class when they're hurt and help them with their learning. Escaping into a magical pirate world during recess with one of my autistic kids. Reading a card that described me as "loevly." Having a dance party after we were the best behaved kindergarten class in the lunch room yet again. Those are the parts of the week that I want to remember. That's the post I want to write... the one where my week totally rocked.

Maybe next week...

reality

2011-01-13T21:59:00.001-06:00

Infertility sucks.

I've shied away from using that word to describe what I'm going through, but since my doctor seems ok with claiming it, I guess it's time that I accept that it's accurate. I'm dealing with infertility. It is an issue, and it isn't going to magically disappear. It's my reality. My problem has always been that I have friends much further down the path than me, people who've gone through years and years of heartache, and I tend to feel guilty placing us all in the same category. I don't know when the magic moment would be when I would have felt enough pain to qualify though, so perhaps it's time to let go of that distinction and admit that, unfortunately, I already do.

I've enjoyed the last couple of weeks because, to be completely honest, I'd given up hope of ever getting pregnant. That sounds like a really awful place to be, but surprisingly, it wasn't. I'd started researching other options like fostering or adopting kids, and I started to get excited about those things. I could walk through the children's building at church or read that another friend was pregnant and not want to scream out of jealousy or burst into tears, and that was nice. Life wasn't going as I planned, but this was a workable alternative.

Then I went to the doctor, and she brought hope back into the equation.

It's counter intuitive, but when she insisted there was still lots of hope for me getting pregnant, everything fell apart again. Not immediately. At first I was thrilled, but that didn't last long. The problem with this new hope of pregnancy is that along with it comes a lot of risk. Treatments that may or may not work. More months or years of the emotional roller coaster of waiting for test results, knowing the answer I want is unlikely, but still getting my hopes up anyway. Having my heart ripped out every time another friend announces her "accidental" pregnancy. Life-altering ethical decisions that scare me to death. When the situation looked hopeless, there was a peace in at least having a clear answer and an end in sight, but with hope there's no black or white next step... just lots of uncertainty.

So that's this week. I'm glad it's almost over...

a new year

2011-01-05T21:37:00.004-06:00

We're only five days in, but 2011 is already off to a better start than 2010. No one has died. I haven't lost my voice. My bones are all intact (well, as far as I know). The first week of this year is definitely an improvement!

Actually though, this week has been great. Other than having to wake up early, being back at work is wonderful. I've always known that I thrive on structure and sameness, but lately the routine of school is a greater comfort than usual... well, except for the part where the kids are irate about my new haircut. They had a MUCH stronger reaction than I expected, but luckily they seem to be adapting. Today I only got two, "You look like a boy," comments which was a huge improvement over the roughly two hundred critical comments yesterday.

Nothing in my life has really changed. All the problems that were here last week are still around today, but it's amazing how the perception of a fresh start and the reality of eighteen smiling faces thrilled to be back at school has improved my outlook on life. That, coupled with a great conversation with a friend over dinner, has made for one of the best days in a long time.

The problems will come back to the forefront soon enough, I'm sure, but for now I'm going to enjoy the rest of this first fabulous week. Happy January!

goodbye, 2010!

2010-12-31T20:55:00.000-06:00

Last December I made the comment that 2009 was so good that I didn't think 2010 could compete, and while 2010 had its good moments, I can definitely say my prediction was right. It's been a rough year.

I hope 2011 will be better, but if I'm honest, I don't really believe that it will be. There are no simple answers to the problems weighing on my heart, and I know that the next few weeks and months are going to bring answers I don't want to hear and decisions I don't want to make. Despite that, I am hopeful that at least we're reaching a place where there will be answers, even if they aren't the ones I want. Waiting and wondering is exhausting, so I will gladly move past that stage.

At any rate, tomorrow means a new year and the end of the holiday season, and I'm SO ready! Goodbye, 2010. I'm not so sad to see you go...

a shift I never expected...

2010-12-23T23:49:00.001-06:00

Usually breaks from school are sort of the best part of my job. There are moments of teaching that are great, but the many, many holidays are definitely a plus. For the past month or so I've noticed myself dreading the breaks. That was the first sign there might be a problem.

I've gone back and forth with whether or not the mood I'm in qualifies as depression because it's so transient. When I have tons of free time, like during school breaks, I inevitably start thinking about how very different I always thought my life would be, but as long as I'm distracted by work for most of the day, I'm ok. It probably doesn't help that holidays pretty much revolve around children, but still. I don't know that there's ever been a time when work was the thing I looked forward to. I used to try to pretend the breaks wouldn't end. Now I'm almost ready to start some sort of countdown until my life is filled with distractions again and the sadness won't be so consuming.

I realized today that a lot of the sadness comes not from the frustration of waiting like I sort of thought but from the worry that no kids now will mean no kids ever. It might be begrudgingly, but I can accept later. But when I start to think about never... that God might have deliberately chosen for me to be childless... I have no schema for that possibility. Over the past few years of being on and off meds and dealing with what that might mean for having kids I considered lots of possible eventualities, but even my worst case scenarios involved us with kids. Now that we're actually here though, it turns out that considering things in the abstract, way-off future is a lot different than considering them as possible next steps, and suddenly the idea of us ending up childless is looking like a very real possibility to me.

I've already been told by roughly everyone I know that I'm being too negative, and maybe I am. I could get pregnant any time. After all, God can do whatever he chooses... but what if nothing changes?

What if this is the path he chose?

what a difference a year makes!

2010-12-14T22:49:00.002-06:00

I'm having a hard time believing it's almost Christmas again.

Last December was kind of huge for me, although I didn't know at this point that it was going to be. I spent the end of November and the beginning of December redoing some of the more painful parts of my inventory, the ones I glossed over the first time through. I knew from the start that it would be an important step, but it ended up being bigger than I had even begun to imagine. By the time I'd finished praying and writing and sharing, I was exhausted and ready to give up, but I'll never forget the words one of the women spoke after listening to all my deepest secrets: God created you to bring him joy. As I sat there attempting to soak that statement in, everything changed.

See, somewhere along the way in my life, I picked up the belief that God created me to make people miserable... and that's a pretty awful thing to believe. I'd heard that God loved me, and I believed that he did. I just thought that it was more the sort of thing where he loved me because he had to. You know, because God has to love everyone, even the people who are here only to bring misery. It's amazing how much that one belief impacted EVERYTHING! There was nothing at all left untouched by the deep loneliness that came with believing I ruined everyone and everything I was near, so when I heard someone say that not only was that belief completely false, that God actually found JOY in ME... there are no words to express the joy I felt. It sounds cliche, but that moment changed my life.

Over the next few weeks and months the new belief, that I'm adored by God and bring him joy, began to take hold, and while I'm by no means perfect, I'm loving that the change is still evident a year later and grows deeper each day. I sat down for coffee this afternoon with that woman, and as we chatted, I was shocked again at just how much I've changed (you'd think that at some point I'd stop being so surprised...). I'm slowly getting better at trusting people who say they care about me, although it's still a huge struggle, but even more surprising to me, I realized I no longer see my relationships as completely one sided where I have nothing worthwhile to offer. Some days are better than others when it comes to living that out, but a year ago even the good days were worse than the not so good days now... and that's amazing.

This December isn't shaping up to be a blockbuster like last year, but I'm starting to think that might be ok. Maybe it's time to appreciate all that I've already gotten.

the path that was best

2010-11-21T21:34:00.008-06:00

My posts haven't been the happiest as of late. I've had a lot of not so fun stuff going on with school starting and things just generally not going my way, but this weekend was awesome... so I'm going to try to be a little more positive.

A couple of weeks ago I was talking to two friends about God's plans (of course), and I made the comment that I knew God had a plan for me but I just wished I could see it right now. When I look at the people who've impacted me greatly, most of them aren't exactly where they wish they were, and while I know it's sometimes painful for them to not get what they want in life, I also see how God has used them to change my life. If they were living the lives they wanted with husbands and families, they wouldn't have been there to play the role God had for them in my life. Again, it's selfish, but it's easy for me to see that while God's plan may not be easy for them, it's definitely a good one, at least for my sake... and I wanted to see that in my own life. As my friends quickly reminded me, we don't always get to see why the plan is better, so I tried to put that desire out of my mind as something that just wasn't going to happen.

And that brings us to yesterday! After several months of scheduling and rescheduling and one conflict after another, I finally got to hang out with a friend I hadn't seen since before school started. We went for yogurt, but most of the afternoon was spent simply sitting in her living room talking (and laughing so hard I could hardly breathe). She knows me quite well, so when she asked how she could pray for me, I responded more honestly than I might have with someone else. I told her that I've been praying that I'd accept God's plan no matter what it is, even if it doesn't line up with my own, and then I told her the story about the women who've impacted me and how I wished that I could see God's plan so clearly in my own life. By that point I was tearing up, but she looked at me sort of questioningly and said, "You seriously don't see it?" I said no, and she replied, "You're that person to us."

Tears rolled down my cheeks as she kept talking, but even more than being touched by the sweet words she was saying, I was humbled that God gave me what I wanted. He let me see how the past few years of my life not going as I hoped had actually impacted someone else's life, and he showed me that despite my fussing, this plan was great. I can honestly say that I wouldn't want to go back and get my own way if it meant losing this relationship. I never would have chosen this path or even imagined it could exist, but it truly was the best one.

Getting this glimpse of God's plan doesn't totally take away the struggle of wanting my own way for my future, but it's definitely a huge encouragement that God's plan isn't just best for other people. He cares about me and has my best interests in mind, too. I'm grateful that he took the time to remind me and give me another moment to look back on the next time I start to doubt.

the theme

2010-11-11T20:53:00.000-06:00

Since I wrote my last post, the enduring topic in my life has been plans. God's plan. My plan. Other people's plans. It's like everywhere I turn someone is talking or teaching or complaining about the plan for her life. It seems to be the theme this fall. Normally I might wonder why I was so inescapably surrounded by one topic, but this time I can't even pretend not to know. It's completely appropriate because while I have moments of acceptance, the theme of MY fall has been displeasure with the course my life is taking.

I want to trust God's plan. I really do, and logically I should. I've seen his promises play out in my life time and time again, and he's brought me through things I thought I could never overcome. I should trust... but I don't. I'm selfish and prideful, and I still want my own way.

Unfortunately, wallowing in my selfishness has caused me to miss celebrating a lot of the blessings I've been given this fall. I'm off ALL my medications and have been for six months. I'm having a great year at work and getting the chance to impact people around me in ways that I haven't before. I paused today to consider my response before spitting some ugly words at a friend who hurt me which might seem small except that I spent most of my life destroying relationships by responding in just that way. Each of those things is HUGE, but all of them and plenty of others have gotten lost in the struggle to accept that I'm not going to get my way right now.

I've been reading a book that gives nice, quick lists of steps to fix various problems (like selfishness... how lucky!), but as much as I wish everything could be fixed in seven quick steps, life isn't that easy. After spending most of the afternoon in tears, I'm feeling secure in God's love tonight and trusting that there's something in this path that's better even though it hurts right now, but that's only today. Tomorrow the struggle will be fresh. I wonder if it ever gets easier...

plans

2010-10-24T20:25:00.005-05:00

For the past few months I've found it harder and harder to come up with anything I want to write. Summer was totally awesome, but since I was working for a family that basically all of you know, it didn't seem right to share the stories I came home with at the end of the day. Now that school has started again, the content isn't a problem... it's the complete and utter lack of motivation.

This week will be the 10th week of the school year (crazy!!!), and for about the first 8 weeks I was completely and utterly miserable. I transitioned from spending the summer working for the best people EVER to my regular, stressful, not so fun job. Coming back from summer is never fun, but this year it was especially awful for me. I missed getting to hang out with the family I worked for over the summer, and although everyone acted like I should just slip back into kindergarten like I'd never left, that's not how it worked out at all. I was totally lost for the first couple of weeks, and then once I got my footing I still had to deal not only with all the politics and paperwork I hate, but also with the disappointment that I was starting my 8th year of teaching rather than staying home with the children I wish I had. All of that added up to a great recipe for depression, and around week 2 it hit. Hard. Luckily, after a few days I picked myself up and reached out to a couple of my favorite people, and as it turns out, all those coping strategies I've learned in the past few years work shockingly well when I actually use them.

It took a few more weeks, but things have leveled out again. The crippling anxiety that always seems to come with the beginning of school has tapered off, even without medication, and I'm finally starting to enjoy my class and not mind so much that God's plan for my job doesn't line up with what I want at the moment. It helps that my kids have said several adorable things lately, and I keep getting compliments on my fabulous teaching. Who wouldn't like that? I also got a student teacher who seems great so far, and I've noticed that unlike last year, I actually enjoy mentoring her and feel confident in what I'm teaching and modeling for her. Maybe there's hope for the school year after all.

It's also the end of October, and while September was a little rough, I'm feeling great right now... huge, huge, HUGE event considering that I can't remember the last time I felt normal in fall without medication. Maybe when I was 10 or 11? If you'd asked me this time a year ago, I'd have told you this day would never come. Luckily, in this case, God's plan doesn't always line up with mine!

it's never just lunch...

2010-07-04T16:12:00.005-05:00

A few days ago I met a friend for lunch. I looked forward to it all week and had a great time because she totally rocks, but I left wondering, "Why on earth does she choose to spend time with me???" I mean, I'm shy and somewhat awkward with people and not exactly super fun most of the time, and she has plenty of other better options. Why me?

Then yesterday I started reading through my list of blogs to catch up and found a new post on her blog... all about HER insecurities. I almost started laughing because so much of what she said could have come right out of my mouth, but I was also totally shocked because in my mind she has absolutely no reason to feel weird or want to be different. She's fabulous just the way God made her, and I often wish I had her faith and diligence, not to mention her awesome sense of humor. But she feels insecure just like me.

The obvious lesson is that I should probably listen to all the people telling me I'm being ridiculous to think that being my friend is a waste of time, so perhaps I'll try a little harder to trust what they say. The deeper realization has been that I'm a lot more insecure at times than I realized. If you'd asked me if I liked myself I would have said that most of the time I do, but when I started thinking about it I noticed that while I do like a lot of things about who I am now, there are definitely traits I wish I didn't have. I've learned to be ok with being quiet because it gives me a chance to be a really good listener, but there are times that I wish I was better at talking to people (like this morning at church during the awkward silence after greeting the woman next to me). I'm glad that I feed on deep conversations with my close friends, but some days I wish I could be ok with just having fun and staying on the surface. It would certainly make life simpler! And there are TONS of other little things about how I interact with people, things that make me who I am, that I'm not so sure about. It turns out I may not be as content with how God made me as I thought.

Anyhow, it's nice to know I'm not alone, and I'm going to have to do some serious rethinking of my perception of myself. I should probably infuse a little more God and a weed out a lot of me. Amazing how that tends to fix things...

Happy 4th of July! And just for fun, a link to the other blog I read yesterday. I guess it's the topic of the week. :)

the best summer yet?

2010-06-14T22:46:00.004-05:00

Yesterday a friend told me that she was pretty sure summer would be the best part of being a teacher.

My immediate response was that yes, summer is definitely the best part of my job, but as I thought about it today, I remembered that it wasn't always that way. The first few summers were lonely and boring, particularly my first summer here in Dallas. It was nice to have two months off work, but sitting at home all day by myself wasn't all that thrilling. In fact, it was pretty depressing.

This summer (so far) has been the best yet. As of a few weeks ago, I'm completely off ALL my depression and anxiety meds for the first time in almost three years, and I feel great. This time last year, I thought this day would never come, but by the grace of God, it did. Just thinking about the healing and change in my life makes me smile uncontrollably. I'm also babysitting part time for a family that I adore, and they just happen to love me right back. I wake up in the mornings excited to head to their house to see what the boys and their mom have planned for our day. And we went to the lake last weekend with our new community group and had a great time, AND I made it home without getting sunburned. June is going great so far.

There are still some changes going on that I don't like or understand, but at the moment I'm so thrilled with the blessings of this week that I've been able to put those fears aside. I can see how some of these difficult situations are opening up new opportunities that I never thought I'd have, but it's still hard. I want things to be the same. I want my own way.

I want what I know... even though what I'm getting may be better.

another year down

2010-06-04T19:44:00.008-05:00

The experiment in fourth grade is officially over. My kids and I moved all my stuff down the hall right back where it came from, and then after a giant group hug, they walked out the door as proud fifth graders. It's summer!

I found out about three weeks ago that I'd be moving back to kindergarten, but until yesterday, it was officially a secret (although I'd told plenty of non-school people anyway). I didn't want to move. A lot of people have been shocked to hear that I wanted to stay put after my worries about moving to fourth grade in the first place, but I did. I felt like I finally figured out what I was doing around March, so I was excited to start next year knowing all that I do now. It was going to be great.

I'm trying to believe that kindergarten will be great too, and there are moments when I do. Today I was walking down the hall when about six random kindergartners decided to hug me just because their friend (who I actually knew) gave me a hug when she walked by. That's something big kids just don't do. My Lakeshore kids and lots of other things I used to love will be able to come out of storage, and I enjoyed seeing natural light shining through the leaves of the tree outside my window when we moved everything back into my old room. It's not what I wanted, but I'm starting to come around to the idea.

My attitude is pretty good now, but it hasn't been for the past few weeks. I didn't (and still don't) understand God's plan in this situation or in several others that I've faced since the middle of May, and I spent quite a bit of time wallowing in my anger and bitterness. I looked at what I've seen God do in my life over the past few years. Then I looked at what was going on right now, and even though I knew what I should believe, I doubted. I trusted my plan rather than his, and I shut him out.

Last Sunday I learned that people pay more attention to my behavior than I thought when a friend said she was responding to a hard situation the same way I would: by shutting people out and refusing to listen to the truth. Wow. In three weeks I'd gone from being someone I would have been proud to call a friend to someone I wouldn't want to admit I knew. Not only did I make my own situation worse by running from God, I dragged others into the abyss with me.

So now I'm choosing to listen to the truth and trying to trust that God's plan for my life is better than mine even though I don't like it at the moment. I want so very much to trust and be content where I am, and I even get to teach that particular truth this month. I have a feeling I'll be learning more than my girls. Funny how that always works out...

the thing to do

2010-04-26T21:39:00.003-05:00

Apparently the thing to do when you're 28 and married is have kids. This isn't anything new. In fact, it started around 25. People ask me all the time when (not if) we're going to have kids, and in case you were wondering, the answer is not anytime soon.

Most of the time I'm ok with that because I recognize that God has a different plan for me right now, but the past few weeks I've been really frustrated. It feels like everyone I know is either pregnant or obsessed with trying to get pregnant. Some days I think it's the only thing anyone talks about. I've heard all about fertility treatments and morning sickness and how great it feels when your baby moves inside your stomach, and there's nothing at all wrong with talking about those things. It just gets awfully boring and sometimes a little sad since I'm not in that place.

Today it hurts. I wish we had kids, and it totally sucks to have to sit and listen to people go on and on and ON about their journeys. But that's what I have to do. Every single day.

It's one of those days I wish I was any age but this one.

spring

2010-04-03T22:53:00.002-05:00

Spring is here!

When I think about the past few months looking for something to say, all I see is that the end of winter wasn't the most exciting. That seems to be how I feel a lot of the time now, and I can't decide what I think about it. I'm pretty sure it's a good quality... although it makes for a really boring blog.

I guess if I'm totally honest I could come up with a lot of things to write about. The TAKS test is over. We're in a new community group. A few days ago my students informed me that I should really look into a career in modeling (right...). Somehow the idea of writing about any of that just bores me to death. Of all the things that happened this winter, two stick out as favorites worthy of recording: my new women's Bible study group and my new area of service, tutoring at-risk 4th graders at a low-income school.

Back in January, one of my favorite people invited me to join a Bible study she was doing. My first instinct was to say no. I don't like new people and sort of doubted her motives in asking, and I was already committed to some other things. But for some reason I decided to give it a shot. I'm so glad I did! I'd forgotten how nice it feels to be completely known and loved not in spite of my flaws but because of them. I can be having an awful day, but when I see their smiling faces my whole body relaxes as if it's telling me that now everything will be ok. Our meetings have become the highlight of my week.

Now on to my other favorite thing! It's no secret that I often feel frustrated in my job. I know that all children need good teachers, but I also know that the vast majority of the children I teach would be just fine if I sat them down with a book and told them to figure it out. They've got the background knowledge and family support to make it work. I'm sort of unnecessary, but now for three hours on Saturday morning, I'm needed.

The kids I work with on Saturdays are the polar opposite of the ones I work with during the week: the neediest of the needy at a very needy school. They're desperate for love and attention, and need all the help they can get. I absolutely adore them. It's also super fun to see how God has uniquely equipped me to serve exactly where I am. I spent years in Title 1 learning how to relate to these kids, and now I've gotten to spend a year learning the best possible ways to raise the achievement of 4th graders. It feels great to be able to use my skills for something worthwhile.

Tomorrow is Easter, and even more so than other years, I'm so grateful for the grace and healing I've received. The past couple of weeks haven't been the greatest. I got to read my kids' TAKS papers, and I wasn't thrilled with what I saw (they did just fine... I'm just a perfectionist who has unreasonable expectations). I also found out I may have to change grades again next year, and to say I'm not thrilled at the prospect would be a huge understatement. But, in the midst of all the drama, I'm at peace because I know that the God who loved me enough to give up his son knows exactly what will happen and is completely in control.

Happy Easter!

a broken toe

2010-01-17T21:51:00.003-06:00

2010 isn't off to the greatest of starts. We're not quite three weeks into January, and so far my grandmother has died, I've lost my voice, and I've broken a toe. Not a stellar beginning to say the least.

Last week was pretty awful. I sang at my grandmother's funeral (which is plenty sad all on its own) with a horrible sore throat, and I've been varying degrees of hoarse ever since. Then Tuesday when I could hardly speak at all, I broke my toe at school... during first period, nonetheless. I spent the rest of the week hobbling around AND unable to speak. Lovely.

That's the kind of week that used to send me into a steep downward spiral, but this time it hasn't because despite the difficult things going on in my life, I'm in a much better place now than I was this time last year. It's not that I'm not frustrated because I am. I'm not looking forward to weeks without being able to exercise, and I'm dying to sing again... but neither is the end of the world. The events of my life don't change the hope I have, and although I've heard that for years, this time I can see the application.

I was reminded of that huge change in perspective today at Watermark's 10th Anniversary Celebration. It was essentially a carnival with fair food and pony rides and tons of bounce houses. Super fun! But, the best part was the few minutes in the middle when we stopped to pray and thank God for all he's done. As I sat there looking around the huge crowd, I thought about all the ways I've been impacted by the people and ministries of Watermark over the past 4 1/2 years we've been there. Seeing as how I'm basically unrecognizable as the girl who walked into Lake Highlands four years ago, the list is quite long, and it still grows longer every day. I'm very blessed.

So even though I'm having a rough month, I have much to be thankful for... and a stupid broken toe doesn't have to steal my joy!

one year later

2009-12-23T23:00:00.003-06:00

Christmas Eve at Watermark is one of my favorite things. It's the primary reason I fight to have Christmas at my house every year, and I look forward to it for weeks. The service isn't all that different from plenty of others throughout the year, so I'm not sure what makes it so exciting for me. Maybe it's the hot chocolate or going in the middle of the night... whatever it is, I love it.

Last year was different. In the weeks leading up to Christmas I was really questioning my decision to stay at Watermark. After three years, I still felt invisible in the thousands of people, and I truly believed that if I never came back no one would really care. Even though I loved many things about Watermark I felt very alone, and I wasn't sure if the good was enough to balance the loneliness. But, on Christmas Eve I put the dread aside and dragged myself to the service, and that's when everything changed.

I expected a typical service, but rather than only singing happy Christmas carols and lighting candles, we celebrated stories of life change. Not all pretty stories of life change either. Hard, painful, uncomfortable pasts turned into futures filled with life and hope. Real, honest people changed by the birth and death of Christ... the reason Christmas happened. As I read the simple, silent testimonies written on plain brown cardboard I connected and remembered why I belonged, and I haven't questioned it since.

Tomorrow they're doing the same thing. I know because this year I'M one of the cardboard people. A friend on staff asked me last week if I'd be willing to share my story of grace, and although it's way outside of my comfort zone, I said yes. After all, it's silent, so all I had to do was come up with two phrases for my sign (harder than it sounds...) and turn it around on cue. Scary, but totally doable!

The more challenging part has been coming around to the idea that I'm one of "those" people... that I have a story that anyone cares to hear. Luckily I wasn't terribly attached to that belief because it's been shot down repeatedly this week. More than once someone has cried when I told her what my sign will say. I do see that God has done wonderful things in my life in the past few years, and this year especially I've changed a lot. But I didn't see ME as the type of person who God uses to bring others that kind of joy. Well, I didn't see myself as the type of person God used to bring any kind of joy but certainly not joy so powerful it produces tears.

Anyway, even though it's pretty unlike me, I'm super excited about tomorrow. I get to tell people what God has done in MY life. Thousands of people (that part's a little scary!). And someone will read my words and connect just like I did last year... because God can bring good from my bad. Great reason to ignore the fear!

the list

2009-12-22T15:00:00.001-06:00

Yesterday I went to lunch with a friend. (That's the kind of simple sentence I'd tell my kids not to write, but luckily, I don't have a teacher on my back!) I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it definitely wasn't the outcome I got: a challenging discussion about some of my biggest weaknesses and assignments to report back on. Yes, she gave me homework.

So because I'm me, and I do what people ask, I got started. Part one was pretty easy: make a list of the things God has done in my life this year. I definitely had plenty to say! 2009 has been difficult in many ways, but it's also been amazing. I've learned so much about who God is and who that makes me, and I've been blessed in more ways than I could ever deserve. Although I wouldn't have said it along the way, this has been a fabulous year.

Part two was quite a bit harder: share the list... with more than one person. I REALLY didn't want to do that part, but then I got an email link to her reflections on her year and absolutely loved reading what she'd written... then decided that maybe I should stop hiding and share some of what God has done in my life.

Which leads to... my list (most of it anyway)!

1. He gave me new friends in my Thursday night Bible study at a time when I was feeling really alone. My small group rocks, and I'm excited to start our second year together!

2. He gave me the courage to trust them with my story and proved me wrong when they weren't scared away by my past and continued to love and encourage me.

3. He used my story and gifts to influence another woman in that group and encourage her to pursue recovery.

4. He taught me about the true meaning of joy and helped me begin to recognize my lack of trust in Him and how that impacts my life daily.

5. He blessed me with my 5:30 Rocks girls (and grown-up friends!) who've taught me more than I possibly could have taught them. I finally found my place at Watermark.

6. He moved me out of my kindergarten comfort zone into a job where I have the emotional reserves left to face some of my deeper hurts and gave me the peace I needed to make it through the transition.

7. He perfectly orchestrated the series of events (over the past four years) that led to a precious little boy being in my homeroom this year where he knows he's wanted, and I can love and encourage him daily.

8. He gave me grace and wisdom as I wrestled with my beliefs about His goodness and character and surrounded me with people who were willing to push me forward and speak truth into that struggle. It hurt at the time, but now I'm infinitely more secure in what I believe and why I believe it. It's real rather than just being the words I always said.

9. He helped me search deep into my heart and gave me the strength and courage to begin to face the hurts I'd hidden so deeply even I couldn't see them anymore.

10. He brought me through the fall without falling into my typical deep depression. Super exciting!!!

11. He taught me about the power of memorizing scripture to combat my anxiety- being transformed by the renewing of my mind. :-)

12. He used Haley to be the tangible representation of His grace that I'm always asking for... the person I can't push away and whose love I will never be able to "earn."

13. He's showing me that I can trust Him and trust myself and don't have to seek validation from others.

14. He's continuing to move my focus and priorities more toward His own and away from my obsession with body image and performance.

15. He's helping me to daily accept that He designed me perfectly to bring Him joy, loves me unconditionally just the way I am, and can be trusted to always do what's best for me, even if it doesn't feel like it at the time. When I really stop to think about the magnitude of that truth, I always end up crying. He loves ME.

It's been a good year. I almost doubt that 2010 can compete...

reframing

2009-11-29T19:57:00.003-06:00

Over the past few weeks, I've had lots of free time, so I decided to spend some time reading a blog I previously read only occasionally... The Happiness Project.

This idea of creating happiness is pretty foreign to me, but one suggestion in particular intrigued me: reframing your thoughts about things you dislike. I'm VERY familiar with that concept, although I'd never used it in quite that way, so I decided to give it a shot. As it turns out, reframing has actually worked pretty well when it comes to mundane chores. I despise cleaning, but telling myself that I enjoy it does give me a better attitude (an attitude that's kept our house clean for almost a month). It's working far less well in improving my attitude about work. Perhaps that's a sign...

I've been amazed how much this one small thing has influenced my day to day life. Reframing my attitude about cleaning has resulted in a much cleaner, more ordered house without the same level of frustration I used to feel. Having a consistently clean and at least somewhat organized house calms my anxiety more than I ever imagined, and less anxiety makes the rest of life SO much easier. Of course, we'll see how long this lasts. I've never been one to actually stick with chores.

Anyhow, back to school tomorrow, and I'm dreading it as always... gotta find a way to reframe that thought more successfully (at least until June!).

any age but this one

2009-10-25T12:10:00.004-05:00

As school years go, this one is still going quite well... a pretty sad commentary on how the previous six years have gone.

4th grade is still easier, and I love my kids. However, teaching the same lesson over and over all day long is almost painful. By the time I get to the last class I'm sick of reading the same book and saying the same words. Yes, the lesson gets better each time I do it, but the basic content is the same. I'm also often frustrated with the attitude that our school scores well on state tests, so we don't need to learn new, research-based teaching methods. We're totally stuck in the 80s. Perfect example: I had to call someone to remove a set of textbooks from my classroom from when I was IN 4th grade. I recognized the book because it was MY basal reader (not literally my copy, but the same book).

I haven't been writing much either which is ironic considering that I now devote my entire day to teaching writing. I'd even convinced myself that I no longer enjoyed writing. Then I realized the truth: I don't enjoy consistently writing for an audience of fourth graders.

I spend my days teaching children that their lives matter, and they do. But, when I look at my life and at the things I value enough to write about, my things aren't things nine year olds want or need to hear. They aren't even, for the most part, happy, encouraging stories. I need to write about how different being grown up is than I thought it would be and how I feel so left behind. I need to tell the story of sitting heartbroken in a cold parking lot at 1:00 am while the two women I was with sat on either side of me talking about the joys of pregnancy and newborn babies. I need to verbalize all the ways God has made himself visible to me during a really difficult season of doubt. I do NOT need to spend hours writing the stories of riding Disney's latest rollercoaster or dressing up as Snow White for Halloween... but those are the stories I have to write.

I'm ready for this life stage to be over. The current mentor text for my students is Eleven by Sandra Cisneros, and it's outstanding. The little girl in the story, Rachel, talks about wishing she was any age but eleven because her eleventh birthday was such a painful day. I cried the first time I read through the story because I relate on more levels than I'd like. Not only do I know exactly what it feels like to be a child who desperately wishes to escape her own reality, but lately I regularly wish I was any age but twenty-eight. Actually, not any age, but quite a bit older. Past the point where every few days another friend announces a pregnancy and I feel jealousy and sadness instead of the happiness I want to feel. Past this age where having children is all that anyone my own age can seem to talk about. Past twenty-eight and maybe all the way to fifty. I don't want to take any chances.

one week down (almost)

2009-08-27T18:38:00.003-05:00

Today was the 4th day of school, and all in all, this week hasn't been that bad. In fact, it's been the easiest first week of school ever. As it turns out, teaching kindergarten made my job far more exhausting than I realized. Compared to that, 4th grade is a breeze.

So since I'm settling in, I read the book Scaredy Squirrel to three of my classes today. I wish I had a copy at home because it's one of my absolute favorite books. The main character is a neurotic squirrel who's afraid of all sorts of absurd things. Green martians for instance. He's so terrified that he never leaves his tree. Retelling the story doesn't do it justice though... it's hilarious.

I love reading this book because I am SO like Scaredy Squirrel. He stays in his tree with his same nuts and same view because when he's there, life is predictable. If he ventured into "The Unknown" (a.k.a. the forest), he might run into green martians, after all. Totally rational. Yet, this is how I often do life. I convince myself that the unknown is so incredibly frightening that I end up missing out on things that would have been really cool. The sad part is that this is the brave version of me... I used to be completely paralyzed by my fear. Now it's just a pretty major annoyance.

This week's adventure into the unknown has turned out a lot better than I expected. To be fair, there have been hard parts. My teammates are nice, but getting to know them has still been difficult for me (and will continue to be I'm sure). It's also been really hard watching my old friends still working together while I'm no longer a part. I still worry that I won't be good at this, although I worry much less than I did before Monday. Most of what I feared has actually happened, but nothing has happened to the extreme extent that I imagined. Hard, yes. Impossible, no.

I don't know how the rest of the year will go. While I am enjoying the maturity of nine year olds, I know I will end up missing things about my babies. It's a trade off. Big kids are far less emotionally draining because they don't need me every minute of every day, but they also don't curl up in my lap while I read. They can reason and understand my sarcastic humor, but they don't tackle me in the hall because they miss me SO MUCH that they just cannot function (yes, that happens pretty regularly). I watch the first graders walking in the hall and wonder what it will feel like next year when I don't know them, but that will have to wait for later.

For now, I'm trying to appreciate the fact that nothing horrible is happening in The Unknown today... those green martians are pretty dangerous, after all.

starting over... again

2009-08-13T16:49:00.005-05:00

Today is the last day of summer.

For a variety of reasons, I'm dreading the first day of work. I think that's relatively normal (it takes a special person to WANT to go back to work after vacation), but for me it's a little out of the ordinary. Usually by the end of the summer I've gotten excited, so for the past couple of weeks I've waited for the excitement to kick in. It didn't happen at my late summer trainings. It didn't happen when I started preparing my room or when I saw my friends. I'm down to less than a day... it still hasn't happened. It isn't going to, and this morning I finally realized why: if I made a list of things I like, not a single one would apply here. I like consistency and familiarity and knowing the answers. As of tomorrow, I'll have none of those things. Like a kindergartner on the first day of school, I'm starting from scratch.

I've made a lot of changes over my six years of teaching, but in every instance, there was one safe thing about school for me to grab on to... in recent years, being an expert in the kinder curriculum. This year there's nothing. Even if I like it, there's basically no chance I'll actually be good at teaching 4th grade the first year. It took three years in kindergarten before I really felt competent, and that was an age group I had experience with. My teammates may be the best ever, but I still have to get through the awkward beginning of three new relationships (perhaps the thing I hate most in the world). Everyone says I'll love 4th grade, and I may... but right now it's all a giant unknown.

So, this morning I was asked if it was possible to be joyful in the midst of the uncertainty. The obvious correct answer is yes. In reality, it's very difficult. The one definition that's stuck with me out of all the character traits I've taught this year was the one for joy: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God. Joy inevitably comes back to trust. Do I trust that God's plan is best? Yes. 100%. The problem is that whether or not it's ultimately best, I've come to associate God's plan for my life with misery. That doesn't exactly breed joy.

Is this an opportunity for growth? Yes, a great one I'm sure. A push out of my comfort zone into what will undoubtedly be a more challenging job. A chance to relinquish some of the control I so desperately grasp for and accept that God will always be the only constant in my life. I see no way around growth. But what has happened the last ten times I've had an opportunity for growth? Something incredibly painful... broken relationships, difficult realizations about myself, loneliness. The final outcome has always been in some way healing and rewarding, but the road is rough. How do I look at a year that, in many ways, will certainly be painful and still feel joy?

I don't know the answer. Well, I can quote plenty of applicable verses, but I don't know what that looks like in my life. I guess I get to start growing now though because the only thought that's getting me through the day is that God doesn't change. No matter how alone or confused or out of control I feel, what I know of Him and His character will always be the same.

This year He's the one thing left to grab on to.

it's been awhile...

2009-08-01T14:44:00.004-05:00

Since I last posted in May, I've thought many times that I should write something then realized I had nothing to write about. Well, really I guess plenty of things have happened, but none of them seemed worth writing about in isolation. Now that summer is almost over, enough things have piled up.

Summer has been good, maybe the best since I started working, for many reasons. Obviously, it's nice to have two months off work, but usually by this point in the summer, I'm done. This year that hasn't happened. I've been busy with friends and activities, and really, I haven't had more than two days in a row without plans. That's a first. I did an amazing summer Bible study where I was blessed to be in an adult small group with the mothers of the girls in my little girl small group. I joined a book club. I went swimming and played with my dog and read for hours on end. I haven't tied anyone else's shoe. It's been a refreshing break.

This week I completed a long standing baby step by taking the GRE. Most people would put off a test like that because of concerns about a low score, but not me. I put it off because of fear of doing well and where that would lead me. When I sat at the computer looking at my score, I knew I'd been right.

When I chose my major in college (almost ten years ago...), I based my decision mostly on ease. I mean, I love kids, but ultimately I chose teaching over another kid-friendly field because it would require the least academic effort and would produce the fastest result, as in no need for grad school. After living the first 18 years of my life as the textbook overachiever, I wanted a break, but the longer I've taught, the more I've regretted my decision and the more trapped I've felt. I wasn't qualified to do anything else, and at some point, I stopped believing I was even capable.

So, as I expected, my test score presented a dilemma: take the easy route through grad school too as I originally planned or take a more challenging route that would require more work but lead to a more desirable outcome. Had I scored poorly, I wouldn't have had an option, but I did well. It was fairly simple to tell myself the easy path was best before I had this tangible proof that I was selling myself short, but the instant I looked at the screen, I lost the tenuous hold I had on that lie.

I want to finish grad school with no regrets... knowing that I did the best I could rather than slacking off... and to that end, I've decided to start down the harder path, the one I should have started ten years ago. It's going to take longer and require taking a few prerequisites, but I know I'm making the right choice.

The next two weeks should be my least scheduled of the summer, and I'm looking forward to the down time. Unfortunately, after that school will start. Year seven. I never thought I'd teach this long, but at least now there's a light at the end of the tunnel.

she would be elastigirl...

2009-05-20T16:58:00.003-05:00

This week is Teacher Appreciation Week at my school. The rest of the world celebrated two weeks ago, but, SURPRISE! We HAD to be different. Must be tradition...

Anyhow, this morning we were talking about things our schools had done in the past, and I remembered my absolute all time favorite: the "How well do you know your teacher?" quiz. Here are a few select answers from last year...

What is your teacher's favorite kind of music?
-quiet music
-puppy music
-Baa, Baa Black Sheep (THEIR favorite song)

What does your teacher do when she's not in school?
-She has to rest because the class is so wild. (Shockingly accurate!)
-thinks about us
-gets a substitute

When your teacher was a child, what did she want to be when she grew up?
-Miss America
-a ballerina
-a psychologist

If your teacher had only one wish, what would it be?
-a cake (obviously knew me well!)
-to be a superstar
-to lose a tooth
-to live where she works (if he ONLY knew...)

What is your teacher's favorite saying?
-I can change your folder in a heartbeat. (Ha!)
-Hang your backpacks up!
-May I have your attention, please?
-Get on the carpet!
-I love you, precious. (Aw...)

What is your teacher's favorite pastime?
-spending time with her students
-saying "You can't do that!" but really we can
-getting food while we're at specials

And the best of all...

If your teacher were a superhero, which one would she be and why?
-She would be Elastigirl on The Incredibles. She is tall, and it would be awesome if she could grab kids all the way across the room. She would even be able to get her lunch tray without leaving her desk.

Hilarious and free... and the best gift I've ever gotten.

29 and counting...

2009-04-24T22:44:00.001-05:00

The past week has been a series of extreme ups and downs... I REALLY hate change!

After going back and forth about 50 times, I think that I've finally adapted to the idea of teaching 4th grade. It's helped that my kids have suddenly become crazy needy and fussy (a little odd at this point in the year). Two of them cried today over an art project. Seriously. All of a sudden little ones are SO much less appealing! I've also gotten more support than I ever could have dreamed. One of the benefits of the small town feeling of my district is that I can e-mail the writing specialist (who I actually know) and have her show up with supplies in hand solely to calm me down. After our meeting this afternoon, I feel confident that things will be ok... I won't be doing this alone.

So I'm getting excited, but parts of this still suck. I was looking forward to not having to pack up my whole room for the first time in my entire career, but instead I'm moving again. After four years, I'd finally gotten my room exactly the way I wanted it, and now the vast majority, if not all, of my stuff will be completely inappropriate. I get depressed when I start thinking about it all... particularly the thought of having to retire my Lakeshore kids (yes, I realize that's pathetic), so I'm choosing to attempt denial. It's been bad enough sorting through the stuff that never rated unpacking after the last move, so I'm putting off the good stuff until the last possible minute. I figure I've still got about three weeks before I absolutely have to face packing and storing or giving away all my favorite things...

Anyhow, it's late, and I have no idea how to end this, perhaps because I'm exhausted from the stress of this week. At least it's one more week down, and now I have the weekend to rest. Only 29 days to go...

an unexpected change

2009-04-17T22:30:00.003-05:00

I feel like I should be in Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse because all I can say is "Wow."

Yesterday afternoon I got a somewhat frantic call from my principal wanting to know if I could come meet with her. Now. Right now. Please? And it's nothing bad. Don't worry. RIGHT. Because when your boss calls you 15 minutes before it's time to leave and suddenly needs to meet with you RIGHT NOW that's usually great.

So, I finished tutoring somewhat absentmindedly while I tried to figure out what she could possibly want to talk to me about. When the bell rang, I walked my kids to their cars and headed apprehensively into the office. Then my organized, well-planned, inflexible world fell completely apart.

She asked me to move to 4th grade as the one and only writing teacher. On so many levels this will be a great move. I love writing. It's by far my greatest academic strength (when it comes to teaching anyway), and while I love my babies, their writing can only go so far. I was getting a little bored in kindergarten because my part had become so familiar, and now I'll have a whole new realm of skills to learn and teach. With bigger kids, I'll be able to DO all the things I've learned in theory. I'll really be able to write. It sounds like my dream job, and in many ways it is... except it's not kindergarten.

The downside to principals beginning to plan for the next school year in February is that everyone starts planning for the next school year in February. I had next year completely laid out in my mind, and it didn't involve 4th grade. I've been thinking and talking about it for 3 months. I was finally feeling comfortable in my new school and loving working with my teammates. Next year was going to be amazing. There was no place in my plan for this sort of change.

And on a deeper level, I had never seriously considered leaving kindergarten. I'd thought about teaching 4th grade in the way I might think about picking up and moving to Australia... it was an interesting idea but not something that I would ever actually do. I love being their first teacher. I like that they fight over who gets to hold my hand. I get to see their writing progress from nothing to pages, and I watch them begin to read. This afternoon one of my little girls snuggled up in my lap with a book and started reading to me, and my heart ached. I'm not quite ready to let that go.

But I have to. I have six more weeks of kindergarten, and then I have to grow up... and even though I can list off a million reasons 4th grade should be a perfect place for me, I do NOT like this plan. It happened so fast I'm still in shock. Every single person I've told has said that 4th grade writing is THE perfect job for me, but I'm not so sure. It's a HUGE change, and even though everyone else seems so confident I can do it, I'm not. I'm terrified.

Wow. I'm going to teach 4th grade. I wonder how many times I'll have to say that for it to finally sink in...

spring break

2009-03-22T21:34:00.001-05:00

We're back from Hawaii. We hiked and rested and ate lots of yummy food. As vacations go, it wasn't bad, but I'm glad to be home.

We drove up and down the coast several times over the course of our week, and on more than one occasion I found myself daydreaming about what it would be like to live in Hanalei, a small town on the North Shore with no chains or big stores. It's like stepping back in time. I would love living in Hanalei (for awhile at least), but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I've finally got some pretty good roots here in Dallas... relationships I wouldn't want to walk away from.

For some reason, all week long I thought about the relationships I've failed at here in Dallas. The list seems to go on forever... seems being the key word. When I started actually making a list, it was pretty short: two community groups. That's it. That's the big horrible list I use to beat myself up. That's what convinces me that there's no point in even trying anymore.

The list of relationships that HAVE worked is actually much longer (did you catch that positive thinking???). My Barnabas group, who welcomed me with open arms when I showed up for lunch today unannounced. My CR group and the people I serve with at church. My friends from work. The women in my new Bible study. Those relationships have worked and do work. I must not be a complete and utter failure.

I'm looking forward to the next couple of months... I see the light sneaking back in :-)

hiding in plain sight

2009-02-22T20:15:00.008-06:00

This month has been rough... stressful, frustrating, painful... not one I want to redo.

Work has been a challenge. Since day one in 2003, I've doubted whether I should have ever chosen teaching as my profession. The past few weeks have brought that question back to the forefront. I have to admit, year six has been the easiest by far. I've finally found my stride, and I'm confident in what I'm doing. My new school is actually a decent place to work. People are happy there... but I still don't really care for teaching. That, however, is nothing new.

The thing that has been most different has been my social life. I actually have one. I've stayed busy with both old friends and newer ones. I've never been this busy with people. Ever.

In spending so much time with people, I've become painfully aware of how far I've fallen back inside myself. I go out several times a week, but few of these people really know me. I've kept them outside. My walls have gone back up. As I've slipped rather quickly back into my old comfortable habits, no one has noticed... because they don't know to look.

Two years ago I was less obviously social, but the people who I did spend time with knew me deeply. They knew my whole story, beginning to end, down to the most shameful details. They knew what my struggles were and noticed when I was starting to head down a dangerous path. Those relationships were excruciating for me because they required a kind of trust I still lack, but they also produced more growth and change than any before or since. I miss that.

I can list several big triggers in my life right now, but without a doubt, the biggest one is knowing that I will be making my way through the day alone and unknown, wishing that I had someone to talk to who would really understand. That one's hard to fix...

week two

2009-02-08T20:21:00.003-06:00

The past week has been hugely frustrating.

By the time I picked my class up Monday morning I was pretty sure that it wouldn't go well. Unfortunately, I was right. I was emotionally and physically exhausted from the stress of the previous week, so every little thing felt like the end of the world. Not to mention the fact that my job is pretty emotionally demanding. Five year olds are needy, and they can't turn that off when I have nothing left to give. I was barely getting by taking care of myself. I was not up to taking care of 16 other people. At any rate, I survived... barely. My desk has morphed into one big pile of relevant verses, and just reminding myself to believe them has been a full time job.

As I prepare for tomorrow, I'm feeling a rising sense of dread. The weekend has been wonderful, but tomorrow I'll be back in the real world, dealing with all the stress that goes along with it. I know all the right answers... trust God, cry out to Him, immerse myself in His truth... and all of those things DO lessen the stress. I've been in survival mode for two weeks though. I can't sustain this much longer.

Despite the frustration and mood swings and fear of what they may mean for my future, I am clinging desperately to the joy I have. I heard a really great definition for joy a few weeks back: the overflow of peace that comes from trusting God no matter what. I've been repeating it to myself hundreds of times a day over the past two weeks. Trust leads to peace which leads to joy. The trust is what gives me the peace and joy I need to get through the day... so trust is what I'm working on.

the longest week

2009-02-01T13:17:00.001-06:00

I started this week with exciting news: as of last Monday, I'm no longer on an antidepressant. I'm still taking my other meds for now, but hey... it's a step. The rest of the week has been varying degrees of nightmarish as I've experienced basically every withdrawal symptom ever documented.

This morning I awoke to what I hope is the light at the end of the tunnel. I can stand up without losing my balance. I don't want to scream at everyone around me. I think I might make it through school tomorrow without wanting to cry. I feel like myself again, and that's a huge relief. The true test will be to see how I feel in a month, two months, six months...

Part of me doubts that my mood will remain stable without this drug (it's the first thing that had any lasting impact on my mood swings), and the rest wonders if that's selling myself and God short. I'm not the same person who started this particular medication almost 18 months ago. Even this week, as I felt so overwhelmed I could hardly breathe, I turned to Him... to His promises to give me strength and never leave me or give me more than I can handle... and I made it through.

I'm both anxious and encouraged for the days to come... to see what healing and life they will hold!

a new, boring year

2009-01-24T20:03:00.004-06:00

The past few weeks have been long and relatively uneventful. The two most interesting events? I've started running, and I have a college intern in my classroom for the semester.

So, event one... running. Last year I took up cycling which I enjoyed, and ever since, I've been tossing around the idea of a sprint tri. Most people seem to be scared off by the swimming piece, but for me it's been running. I hate it. Perhaps it's the memories of miserable predawn runs in middle school or the fear of agitating my old knee injury (more likely it's that I'm lazy...). Regardless, I've never been a fan. Why did I finally give in? We planned a trip to Hawaii. Nothing like the threat of a week spent in a swimsuit to motivate me to exercise!

I've made it an entire month now without quitting, and this week I noticed I actually look forward to running after work some days. It helps that I can see the effects... my legs are looking and feeling stronger, and when we rode last weekend, the ride was a breeze. Maybe I've made it over the hump.

Now, event two... intern. Last fall, after watching a pretty awful teacher mentor someone, I offered to take a student teacher. On Tuesday, she came for the first day of her first semester. Assuming all goes well, she'll split time with me and a 4th grade teacher at my school through her graduation next fall. Crazy!

After day one, she seems great. I think I'll enjoy having someone around to help out, and it's nice that she thinks I know what I'm doing! I have to admit though, I felt SO old. I'm not, really. I'm only 5 years older than she is, but I remember how old I thought 27 was when I was 22. And it is a big difference life experience wise. I've been teaching for SIX years (a point I never intended to reach), married for over three. She's still in college.

Anyhow, the spring promises to be interesting. I'm preparing for a 5k in March, just before our trip, and I just have a feeling this whole intern thing will provide lots of entertainment.

Maybe my entries will pep up soon...

the reason why

2008-12-28T23:59:00.001-06:00

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.

avoidance

2008-12-22T18:11:00.001-06:00

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...

why i HATE the car dealership

2008-12-09T23:10:00.000-06:00

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.

and the rest is yet to come

2008-12-07T22:17:00.002-06:00

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

thankful

2008-11-27T01:19:00.001-06:00

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.

my place

2008-11-23T23:56:00.001-06:00

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?

a calling?

2008-11-10T17:13:00.001-06:00

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 :-)

vindication

2008-11-05T17:11:00.003-06:00

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?

voting day

2008-11-04T16:42:00.004-06:00

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...

the best friday EVER

2008-10-31T17:52:00.004-05:00

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)

a daunting task

2008-10-27T00:22:00.001-05:00

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.

shattered

2008-10-16T22:28:00.001-05:00

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.

patience?

2008-09-27T22:17:00.004-05:00

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.

a compliment... and my frustration

2008-09-18T22:39:00.001-05:00

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...

finally!

2008-09-16T22:59:00.002-05:00

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!

loneliness

2008-09-06T22:54:00.001-05:00

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.

exhaustion

2008-08-28T19:13:00.005-05:00

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...

sweeping up the dust

2008-08-11T22:00:00.001-05:00

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.

the joy of a new beginning

2008-08-05T21:15:00.001-05:00

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!

no, I didn't use ratiocination...

2008-07-29T21:25:00.006-05:00

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...

OMG! The Jonas Brothers are AWESOME!!!

2008-07-27T15:06:00.005-05:00

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...

a long, long week

2008-07-25T21:49:00.003-05:00

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.

the beginning of a journey

2008-07-21T18:19:00.004-05:00

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.

beyond my wildest dreams

2008-07-16T01:24:00.001-05:00

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.

my love affair with cupcakes

2008-07-13T21:09:00.009-05:00

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.

my chemical imbalance is cooler than yours...

2008-07-10T00:17:00.009-05:00

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.

the abundance of summer

2008-07-08T01:20:00.001-05:00

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:

"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.