2024: Week 4

 

Bob Goff. I have read every book. I follow him religiously on social media. When he visited a church in Murfreesboro I was the first to sign up. I have visited Tom Sawyer Island in Disneyland hoping to see him in his element. He speaks my language and he is definitely an encourager for me. I was so happy that we had a discussion with a podcast from him as a focus in one of my school counseling classes at Lipscomb.

My mind keeps being drawn to a line or two from the podcast…

What makes you come alive?

What do you find yourself doing when you know that is what you were put on earth to do?

As long as I can remember I wanted to be a teacher. When I was a little girl I would arrange my parent’s basement family den into a classroom full of baby dolls, stuffed animals, and Barbies and Kens. I would take attendance, teach ABCs and 123s, and every now and then send someone to the principal’s office. The years just out of college were a dream come true as I had a real classroom of my own with real students ready to learn.

I fast forward through many moves with my husband, a few teaching positions, and then focusing on raising three incredible kids.  Now I find myself right back in the high school where I first started my teaching career. I love it. It is where I belong. But something is gnawing at me.

The student athletes that struggle to make the grades in order to stay on the field come and ask me for help. I am approached by another staff member to help with three seniors that cannot seem to pass chemistry. My planning period is frequented with knocks on my door followed by requests to talk through a problem. The boy that sits by himself at lunch. The girl that hides her pregnancy from her parents but everyone in the hallways know. The new student that does not quite fit in and can’t find a way. All these things call to my heart and demand my attention away from the classroom management, demands of grading, and details of lesson plans.

I want to know the students. I want to be a constant and safe place for them. I want to help them, whether it be in making decisions for their future, growing them academically, or focusing on their social and emotional health.  In becoming a school counselor I am convicted that I can fulfill the purpose I am being called to pursue.  

Do I have fears? Everyday! I am 45 years old. Many of my friends think I am crazy for starting a new chapter now. After all these years, can I really succeed as the student in the classroom??? Especially at the master’s level??? The doubt has led to fear and it has held me back so many times. I also worry that I will be unable to do it. Balancing responsibilities with my family, the demands of my current job, and my assignments and classes can be very stressful, sometimes overwhelming. Just this week as I waited for my youngest to get out of cheer practice, I paced the halls and my mind whirled with how I could fit it all in, not let anyone down, and get everything complete.

The encouragement of my family and a few friends seems to always lighten my load. I am thankful to have them walk beside me and cheer me on through it all. But honestly, there has only ever been one thing that has helped me maneuver through the worry, doubt, and fear. My pride has prompted me to push it aside and postpone it. Stubbornness and my need for control override it time and time again. But every time I relent into the quiet, solitude of prayer with my Father I find an escape from the chaos. The worry and panic that fear and doubt stir up disappear amid the conversations with Him. With the companionship of my family and friends I know I can succeed. The guidance of my advisors and professors will show me the way. But He will be the reason and answer for it all.  

 

2024: Week 3

The ground has been icy and white for almost a week. All the excitement that did exist from the closure of schools and the disruption of the regular has ceased. The kids want normalcy and their routine and freedom. If it was up to me, we would continue with the quiet and solitude. They, and their dad, are all I need. 

My nephew is a photographer. His creativity and eye for a good shot impresses me. I am a proud aunt. He spent the much of the week at home just like everyone else in the mid-state, but he did have his camera and lenses in hand. I am fascinated by his week’s work. 

                                              (Photo credit: Andrew Denning Photography)

When I was growing up I’d sit at a little yellow table in the basement of the house my parents made a home. I would fold pieces of white paper into squares and then snip and clip little designs. My unfolded masterpiece always provided hope of what I anticipated winter days would bring. 

As many times as I made my paper snowflakes, there wasn’t one that ever could compare to the Creator’s handiwork. I gaze at my nephews pictures and I find myself entranced, in awe, speechless. Words don’t do this intricate, carefully designed, God-breathed miracle justice. 

I am grateful for the pause this week. Last week I am honest but ashamed to admit that I wouldn’t have slowed enough to notice a tiny speck of His creation. I hopeful that next week and weeks from now I will remember this snowflake. Maybe if I keep its memory it will be a reminder to notice the marvels of His creation that fill my world. 

The trees that line our creek. The stars that are suspended in the night sky. The chipmunk that makes my back yard his playground. The students that try to blend in with the crowd and quietly shuffle down the hall. The calls that register with the names “momma” or “daddy” on the screen of my cell phone. The overlooked moments with my favorite four.

I want to always remember this snowflake, giving my life in thanksgiving to it's Creator everyday.  

2024: Week 2

It’s the second week of January. Christmas has come and gone. The New Year has rung. The decorations are stored until next November. 

I spoke to our FCA at school a week ago yesterday. Sometimes I spend much of the week preparing for these morning meetings. Other times I may give thought to what I want to share the night before. This time in the silence of my Friday morning driving by the creeks of Auburntown and over the hillsides of Statesville my mind rambled with what to share. 

Pulling into to the parking lot minutes before 7:10am, I jumped out of the Ford, swiped my badge, and power walked the hallways to the gym. Sweet but tired faces filled the room. The speakers usually stand. This morning I pulled a chair to the front, sat down, and took a breath.

I began to talk... 

This day, this Friday, was what some religous people think of as Epiphany...the visit of the Magi...otherwise know as the wisemen...I wonder if there were really just three? I digress.

They visited. They gave gifts. They didn't report back to Herod. 

Days before the shepherds had left their flock. They had witnessed something indescribable.They had seen angels and heard their chorus. They had run to the barn in humble Bethlehem. They had heard the cries. They had knelt before the King. 

We never hear anymore of the story of these wisemen and these shepherds. Scripture continues. But their story...for us it ends.

We anticipate December 25th. We celebrate His birth. We read Luke 2 and rejoice. We open the gifts and we eat lots of food. Our focus is on this Child that became a man and was the King of all Kings and became our Savior. Our focus is on Him. 

A week passes.

And then January 1st comes and it's a new year. It's time to make changes and resolutions. We plan a diet and buy a gym membership. We decide we need to spend more time self reflecting. We make promises to ourselves and speak of new habits and routines and changes. We focus on ourselves. 

What can I do better?

Why should January 1st or March 12th or August 8th or October 30th be any different than December 25th? 

He left Heaven. He became a baby, then a child, then an adolescent (bless Him) and finally a man. He walked this earth, humbly and lowly. He made strangers His friends, sinners His company, and outcasts His friends. Then He went to the cross and died. 

All for us. 

I bet the shepherds were never the same.  On January 1st I bet they could still hear the hallelujahs and see the glory. They were still excited about the cries and had the hope of the King's arrival. They probably didn't make resolutions and buy gym memberships. The wise men knew their focus. It was on Him. 

How can He make all things better?

2024: Week 1

The sounds of the ocean and the waves are the only things to hear. But there are so many things to which to listen. The things swirling in my head. The things that keep me up at night. The things that distract, monopolize the quiet, and tempt me to worry. 

During this year we are about to enter I will be working on my marriage for twenty three years. Many days 2001 seems but just seconds ago, and on others it seems like a repetitive roller coaster that has been going on for centuries. Tears, laughs, travel, kids, counseling, work, play, aging. All with the same man who said he needed to marry me. 

2024 will mark the twentieth year of my work as a mother. No greater joy has ever been given to me other than the joy given by the three kids. Each one has unique qualities and talents that inspire me, teach me, and challenge me. They never disappoint. My deepest regrets are ones that derive from my fear of disappointing them in my mistakes as their mother. 

This year I will continue working in public education. We may be overlooked and under appreciated, but I know we as educators have answered a high calling. I trust the 14 to 17 year olds I teach and coach with the expectancy I have for them to achieve great things. Those great things don’t necessarily mean the highest grades or the worlds take on the most decorated professions. I am speaking of kindness, love of others, humility…the basics of what education should be in a world where those things are hard to come by and have been cheapened. 

The work I have been at the longest is that of a daughter. This past year has been a challenge to watch my parents navigate through. In their mid-seventies, all one wants for their parents is peace, stability, comfort, and belonging…all the things they have provided for me and so many others throughout their lives. My mind swirls around ways to provide for and protect the two that have given me everything that is love and goodness. 

Perhaps my perspective needs to change. 

My work? I have been working? The work I have to do?

God, will you continue to work on me? My life, my marriage, my children, my profession, my parents, my roles and relationships…I lay it down before You. In the noise, in the chaos, in my attempt to control…I have forgotten to give things over to You. Forgive me. Renew me. Quiet my mind. Work on me.

Upside Down

This born and raised middle Tennessee girl graduated from college on May 13, 2000, ready to settle into a simple Southern life as a small town high school teacher. The next day I laid eyes on this really tall fella that had distinct and expressive eye brows and the happiest of brown eyes. A few months later I found myself agreeing to marry him and move 2000 miles away from home to a tiny five square mile island. Every plan was changed. My surroundings were totally different. Working with people from all over the world with different teaching styles and philosophies was more than challenging. All things seemed new, from shopping for groceries to driving a car and everything in between. And a new marriage...yeah, there was that too. 

My world was completely turned upside down. 

That wasn’t the last time things got shaken up. A few years later I was on fall break from teaching at a middle school in Missouri. I decided to run to the grocery and pick up my favorite frozen treat, mango sorbet. As I was about to check out I decided to pick up a little something else...a pregnancy test. I hadn’t been feeling the best and I just wanted to ease my mind. An hour later my sorbet was melting all over my couch as I tried to get my mind around being a mom. 

My world was turning upside down again for sure. 

Fast forward...an island and three kids later. I am a content and happy stay at home mom, working hard to make life happen for my family. Focusing on loving Saba was a big chunk of my time. I did non profit work and was active in service to my community in which we lived. But we faced the reality that our kids needed should have options as we began to look at their high school experiences. Long story short...five years later I find myself in a full time regular classroom again...this time teaching of all things Algebra, and coaching cross country and tennis. 

My world got completely turned upside down once again. 

In the moment these upside down changes seemed scary, sometimes irritating and uncomfortable, and even impossible. But in the flip side of the upside downs I so clearly can see the Father. All these things didn’t happen by chance. It wasn’t because of any decision I made or someone made for me. He was the reason for it all. He has shown me His love, given me the greatest gifts of human connection, taught me about grace, grown my faith, granted me the most outrageous joy, and taught me to be content with His plans even though I don’t understand them...because they simply are the best beyond any measure. 

We shouldn’t be surprised you know. He has been turning peoples worlds upside down from the beginning. He made a shepherd boy a king. He made a prostitute an ancestor to the Savior. He made outcasts his apostles. He gave the blind their sight. He let the unclean and sinful touch him. He took everything the religious deemed as important and shook it all up. 

He died. He was resurrected. 

And in that, he turned the entire world upside down. 

Hindsight is 2020

They say silence is golden.

If that’s the case, 2020 has been filled with lots of gold. At least from this blog.

It’s a couple of hours till midnight. Back in March if you had asked me if I had wanted the end of 2020 to come fast I would’ve said absolutely not. I don’t ever want to wish time away. 

But here we are 120 minutes before 2021, and I’m trying to find the words to describe what the last year has held. Eager to see its demise. 

With negativity all around, it’s easy to be negative. Its 2020...it’s been so easy to point out all the bad stuff about this year. But a little voice inside me is saying, "Hey, don’t do that anymore." The voice points me in a different direction, completely opposite pretty much of every other voice I’ve heard in the last 365 days.

So I start to ponder.

I got a new dishwasher.

That is the one and only thing I can come up with.

As those that love me the most know, I’m going to use one of my signature phrases.

That’s pitiful. 

A dish washer. That’s the best I can come up with???

Pitiful.

I mean seriously...a year of a virus...a complete shut down...a year of injustice...a year of nasty American politics...a year where so much has been taken away. Too much to even name. 

Of course, on spot a dishwasher is the best I got. 

As we end this year I am sitting watching a new series with two of the three kids. The Chosen. A series about Jesus. 

He laughs and makes jokes. My heart smiles big as I hear the kids chuckle. 

He has a soft spot for his mother. He makes fish appear for his friends and turns water into wine and then dances at a wedding. 

He calls a woman by her name and casts out all her demons. He tells a lame man to walk and rids shame from a provocative woman. 

And he takes time to talk with the little people. The ones everyone else ignores.

Where has he been in my 2020? 

He has been in the delight of my daughter’s eyes as the clock struck midnight 365 days ago a block away from Times Square. 

He was in the hearts of a group of college students as they prepared to love on Caribbean children on a five square mile island, not knowing what was waiting a few weeks away.

He was in the heart of my dear friend as she said goodbye to her mother. 

He was in the solitude of a quiet Caribbean beach. 

He was at a bus stop in Hell’s Gate.

He was in a ripe strawberry patch with my sister and my girls.

I saw Him in the wisdom of a friend as we walked our neighborhood and talked about life. 

He was in the excitement of an anxious bride as she prepared to become a wife. 

He was present at summer family dinners with two special friends. 

He was heard in the laughter that echoed through our home as we played games and found joy in our family of five. 

He was in the sunset as my I watched my parents walk side by side, knowing that is their favorite place to be.

He was in the excitement of the news of a baby to be welcomed. An honorary grandchild! 

He was in the eagerness of my freshman and the courage of my middle schooler. 

He ran alongside a cross country program as they completed an unexpected full season. Region champs and eighth in the state... icing on the cake. 

He was on the sidelines every Friday night with a Purple Tiger who wore number 53, never missing a game. 

He was in the half empty halls of high school and the chaos of an elementary school. 

He walked alongside a family as they began to question and wander exactly what He was calling them to do and where to go. He held their hands as they got comfortable with a new normal, in a newer circle. 

When you take away the busy...the completely full calendar...the detailed plans...He is there. Beautifully and wonderfully there in the simplicity of an unexpected but yet complicated year. He is there. 

I am thankful. 

Looking back on 2020...all we have really done is argued. 

The virus...real or not real. Masks...to wear or not to wear. Blue lives...black lives...all lives. Biden...Trump...or who. To vaccinate...or to not vaccinate. Traditional school...virtual school. 

And we all scream. Let’s all make sure our opinion is heard...our side is louder than the other. Let’s set the others straight. We are in the right...right?

Are you tired? 

I know I am. 

Let’s throw up the flag of surrender and admit none of us have it all figured out. 

The kids start a new episode. Jesus. He is full of grace and patience...we all should take pause and notice. He swam against the current. He found the silver lining even when there were storms. To every question and problem, He not only had an answer...He was the answer...He still remains the only answer. 

He didn’t scream. He didn’t argue. He didn’t write a post to prove a point. Conservative. Liberal. Moderate. I don’t think he used those terms. 

He just was and he just did. 

He was just love. 

In the next 365 days a lot will happen...some bad and some good. It may be better than 2020...but then again, it may not be. In all of it I just pray I i can see Him clearer and be more like Him than I did and was in the last 365 days. 

Goodbye 2020...hello 2021. 

Thank you, Jesus, for it all. Let us be more like you. Let us be love. 

Joy in Silence

I didn’t like myself yesterday. 

I complained. I was impatient with people I dearly love. Pessimism. Negativity. Self righteousness. Pride. They were my friends. 

And this morning in the hangover of a bad attitude, insecurities and self doubt are nagging at my joy. 

Finding joy is becoming a complicated process these days. Escaping the overly shared opinions, controversy, and the constant finger pointing and fighting is impossible.  Everyone gets offended by everything. Around every corner you find an expert. Yesterday around a corner or two you would have found me, the expert, and I am real sad about that. I miss the days where around most corners we just found friends. 

Is anyone else exhausted? Is anyone else having trouble with it all? Anyone else having trouble finding joy? 

So this morning, in the still before the three kids invade the silence and the smell of morning coffee, I am searching for joy. Simple, quiet, unnoticed joy. Something I can hold onto the rest of the day. 

It does not take long to realize I am probably not going to find it by the click of the remote or the touch of a phone screen. The refrigerator and pantry may have a few things that mask themselves as joy, but nothing that will last. The candle on the coffee table creates peace for a short while. But joy, where is it?

The airco cuts off just as the refrigerator stops running. Silence. Completely. 

The cicadas sing their song. Two birds conversate back and forth in the back yard. The sun hits the brick floor through the window blinds. 

Joy. Sent from the Creator. 

My voice breaks the silence and I begin to talk out loud to my Father. I lay my mess ups and insecurities from yesterday at His feet. I give thanksgiving for His truth...the ONLY absolute truth. Boy do I need the encouragement to only look to Him as the expert! I ask Him to help me with this. And I know He is listening and understands because He walked and lived in the mess, too. 

Open my eyes to only see You in the midst of the mess. The joy You bring is always there. It is I who decided to lose the focus. Silence the sting of stress and negativity that the enemy brings. Create and renew in me a joyful heart and spirit. 

Heal this world. Settle our hearts on You. Humble us. 

Thank you for being the Joy Giver. 

May we honor You as that, along with so much more.