5 Minute Friday: Greatest

Today, my head is full of unnecessary things. A chalkboard, thick with dust from writing and erasing.

End of school.  Beginning of summer.  Endless to-do lists.  The classroom's a mess, I've got papers to grade, and a curriculum to plan for next year, and my brain. is. done.

The pain behind my left eye, and its auras, entensifies. 

Then,  I remember the quote I've copied to my whiteboard at school.  It stopped me in my tracks yesterday:

To love God is the greatest romance.
To seek God is the greatest adventure.
To find God is the greatest Acheivement.                  
                                          -Augustine

And I learn, all over again, how to find peace in all the chaos: give it all to God.

Too Long Gone

So what have I been doin' since April? Way too much. Finishing my Masters. Finishing a school year. Going abroad. Trying to cram summer into 2 1/2 weeks. And now, being way too busy with another school year, once again teaching languages I don't always understand well myself, but having fun in the process.

Stuff I've done lately that's worth sharing?

• Well, I've been here. And here. :)
  


• Made preserves from this book that I picked up at the Charleston Farmer's Market. Awesome. The ginger-pear preserves, peach salsa, and regular salsa is what I've made so far. I bought some chutney in Charleston, and it's some of the best I've ever tasted. The recipe is in the book, so I'll have to try it some time.
  


• Started to make lots of soup. I love it when soups are back from summer's heat!
  


• Found an amazing recipe for roasted tomatoes. And an amazing tart to use them in, when you're not making roasted tomato soup!
  


• Another tomato recipe: a knock-off version of Panera's tomato bisque. I've done some things to the recipe, so it might be worthy of a blog post by itself.
  


• Been to some amazing services. I've been blessed, and I'm looking forward to future blessings. Because my Lord is so good.

~M

Refocus

I have this week off-- a week away from students and (some) stress-- a week to gain back what has been lost in the times when I've been too busy.

The first couple of days were spent between battle and rest. Rest for the body; battle for the mind.

The battle was over things I want from life-- things I've prayed for. Things I believe for. Things I'm learning patience for. And sometimes, I want them now. Sometimes I hurt, because I feel the holes where those wishes belong. And sometimes, if I'm not careful, the wishing can lead to the mire of self-pity. Especially when I feel the weight of a thousand things unfinished at work and at school, much less at home.

Enter Wednesday night. Torn and wounded in spirit, I make my way to church. And then I hear the Lord speak to my heart: I hear you--I've already heard your cry. I'm already working; be patient. Broken before Him, I find the empty places filled. What does a man profit if he gain the whole world and loose his soul?

It reminds me of a quote I recently heard:

63-0421 VICTORY.DAY_ SIERRA.VISTA.AZ SUNDAY_
135 Don't despise where God has got you. But, serve your
purpose. There's coming a great victory day, one of these days, where the battle
is over.

139
It seems like, the Christian life, if the fellow is not absolutely centered on
Christ, the Christian life, seems like, holds so many disappointments. But those
disappointments are--are God's Divine will happening for us. Now, it don't seem
like it would be that, but it's God's way of doing things. He lets us hit the
river, to see what we'll do.

150 God lets disappointments happen, to show
victory. Oh, if we could only see that! See? You'd only see that these things
that seems to be so burring you, and upsetting you, they are trials. They are
things, to stand still, focus your glasses on the Word of God. And speak the
Word, and then just walk forward. That's all there is to do
it.151 We get to a time, we say, "God, I don't know what to
do. I'm up against it."152 Speak the word, "Lord, I believe."
And just start walking forward. God does the opening up of the sea. You just
keep walking. See?

And I begin again-- focusing on Christ, who is my life, and believing for the future.

Centrifugal Force in Action

It was a pretty tasty mess, after all...

Growing Pains

This year has been a growing one.

Some years are like that--pains deep into the muscles of the mind, shooting wide.

And then, you realize you've reached a milestone. Some people think you're at the top of your game. (You still don't.) All you can see are the mountains ahead, and you're afraid to look at the view below, because you might fall flat on your face.

That's where I am now. I'm sitting on go, waiting for the next inhale of challenge or the exhale of relief. It's leaving me breathless.

And then I remember:

Being confident of this very thing, that he which hath begun a good work in you will perform it until the day of Jesus Christ --Phillipians 1:6

And I remember my earlier conversation with my sister, and how we talked about everything--not just the good, but also the bad-- working in your life for the glory of God.

And I can breathe again.

You (Probably) are from the South if...

• You still believe cast iron skillets are the greatest cooking medium on earth.
  (You use one daily, and it probably came from your grandmother.)
  
• You know that "bless his/her heart" is not necessarily a compliment.
  
• You believe in hospitality, but know not to expect it when you're driving.
  
• Your daffodils start blooming in the middle of February.
  
• You actually like a little humidity, and can't stand that stuff they call "dry heat" out West.
  
• "Y'all" is standard vocabulary. It slips out pretty often.
  
• You don't mind talking to strangers, as long as what they are doing interests you enough. You've probably made some friends that way.
  
• You can tell what part of the South your friend is from by their accent.
  
• You believe in the social graces that make men "gentlemen" and women "ladies."
  
• You think winters without snow are beautiful, but you love your snow days, where everyone's afraid to drive and the grocery stores are empty where their milk and bread used to be. (Not because of the snow... oh no. It's the ICE.)
  
• You expect at least one day of flip-flop weather in January.
  
• Iced tea is sweet. It's the law.
  
• You know what the Bible Belt is, and where it's located.
  
• You know all about health food, but you know not to skimp on the fat in food.
  (It's where the flavor is, sister.)
  
• You have strong opinions about barbecue, and where to get the best near you.
  
• Schools still don't have things going on on Wednesday nights, 'cause that's "church night."
  
• Bluegrass isn't just a bunch of noise to your ears. You like the banjo.
  
• You know that summer is at your door when you hear the katydids at night.
  
• You don't think a house is really a home unless it has a porch. It's even better if there's a swing.
  
• No matter where you are in the world and how much you "loose your accent," when you start talking about home, it returns.
  

Traveling Journal

A month ago, I was boarding the plane to what feels like my third home. (My first being heaven, my second being the South, USA.) It's still in the south--as a good friend said, you can't get much souther than Melbourne...

I went to Australia to visit my good friend, Alysa, in what was their (very mild) winter-- beautiful, green, and crisp. And I found so many things to love--so many that I'm afraid I can't still name them all. I'm afraid, however, that if I don't try, I'll forget what I do remember. So here's my go of it: let's hope I don't miss anything.

• "Let me just pop that in there for you... " I love the English influence in Australia; so much more than in the U.S. Their politeness defies expectations. It's expected that you small-talk with a cashier--not something I claim to be particularly good at. After one such exchange, I asked Alysa, "Do you know her?" Of course, she didn't.
• The beach. The ocean. The shore. It's incredibly beautiful, no matter where you go and no matter what you call it.
• Fish and chips on the shore. Yes, "chips" aren't very different than French Fries in the States--but they're still better. Five Guys comes close, but not quite.
  
• The people--not only because I have such a very good friend that lives there. But also because of the other amazing folks I met--people that made it feel as if I've known them much longer than I have.
  
• Good coffee. Everywhere.
• Small towns, and the small town mindset. People bring their dogs to town and wear Wellies as if it were the most natural footwear in the world. In Australia, dogs seem to be a family-oriented sort of animal to own, even more so in the U.S.
  
• Natural-feeling heating/AC-- I doubt people are prone to freeze themselves in the summer, as they didn't roast themselves in the winter.
  (My dad's favorite seasonal words are get acclimatised, so I appreciated it.)
  
• The local, small-town shops. Every town seems to have a vast selection of family-owned, beautifully kept shops, not invaded by chains, and willing to special-order for you. The bigger towns and suburbs are the ones with the chains.
• Wool shops. And wool. and tea shops. and tea.
  
• Amazing views. Beautiful countryside.
  
• Staying with Alysa and her family--and her mum allowing me to invade her kitchen. :)
• Jokes galore. That wingey-wongey sound... :)
  
• Realizing that cooking in Australia isn't much different than cooking at home, as long as you cook from scratch.
• Aussie grocery stores... I spent some lovely time comparing U. S. to Aussie ingredients. :)
• Local open-air markets.
• Amazing meetings. Christ-centered prayer. Holy Spirit Power and Presence. The peace of God that passes all understanding. Blessings that last through the return trip to my U.S. home.
  

I didn't have enough time-- next time I go, I'll stay longer. If real, practical life were the same as my trip, I could live in Australia in a heartbeat. That is, if I could move everyone I love over with me. :)

Yay!!! There are others like me out there!

That is, there are others on a clothes "diet."

Last Spring, as I switched my closet from summer to winter, I made a discovery: I didn't lack for anything. Anything. At all. In short, had/have too many clothes. In fact, it kinda made me sick to see how many clothes I really owned. So I decided that, for the duration of the summer, I wasn't going to buy anything. No shopping trips to the local outlet mall, no "retail therapy" whatsoever. It's been incredibly do-able; I've really not even missed it. I like what's in my closet--for the most part--and what I don't like, I have been trying to weed out.

But now, I have a decision to make. Should I join these ladies? I can't decide.

I might, though if I do, I'm (mostly) sticking to my original rules:

1. No new clothes (But my sewing doesn't count. Still. The idea that I can sew myself something new has been a saving grace. Not that I've had time to shop; not that I've actually sewn anything.) I might just say no new fabric, considering my stash. Though that can't apply to this stuff...
   
   
2. Even though "The Great American Apparel Diet" allows the purchase of shoes, I'm going to try to stick to not buying them--with the exception of my birthday boots. Yes, I'm buying myself boots for my birthday and asking for contributions from those who would normally buy me a present. Otherwise, the price would be unconscionable.
   
   
3. I can still buy accessories. Not that I need them.
   

Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.
Mathew 6:19-21

Why I drive with duct tape

I've had an interesting car or two in my time. White Lily, for instance. Unfortunately, I've also sealed my reputation as a driver with a couple of accidents. But my latest (and longest lasting-- at least in my hands) car, Lady Jane Grey, has managed to steer clear of most of my driving issues. Until now.

This past winter, we had an ice storm or two. We only had one official snow day, but we also had one two-hour delay. I drove to work about an hour later than normal-- right before the de-icing trucks got to the road. I ended up in the ditch; the road was simply to slick for my car to stay on course around the elbow-sharp turn. My car was fine, except that it looked like it was missing a tooth or two in the front. My bumper was messed up.

I put off fixing my bumper into the indeterminate future. One, because my parents already had a vehicle in the shop. Two, because I had no earthly idea where to go. (Okay-- I still don't. But I'm goin' somewhere.)

Flash forward a few months.

I'm tired, it's early in the morning, and I'm returning from NYC, going to work. My contacts are in, but I'm not focused. And too late, I see what looks like a deer in the road, already dead. I brace myself, run over it, and listen for anything funny. When I don't hear anything, I relax and keep on driving.

A few days later, on the exact same road, I encounter the exact same scenario, only it's at night, it's a dead dog, and I am paying attention--only there's a car in the oncoming lane. I once again brace myself-- and immediately feel the SCRRRRRRRGH of a flat tire. Not that I would know. I've never had a flat tire before.

Pulling onto the side of the road, I immediately call my dad. He's the one with the technical know-how-- in fact, so much that I've never felt the need to learn how to change a flat tire. I know that's ridiculous-- twenty-seven year old single gal who doesn't know how to change a tire?! Yup. That's me.

Only, when I climb out of my car to see the damage-- or rather, feel the damage, since it was at night--my tire bounces back against the toe of my shoe. There doesn't seem to be any problem with my tire. Or any of the other tires. I look a little closer, and happen to notice that my bumper is no longer just hanging onto my car. It's now dragging the ground.

Thankfully, the closest WalMart was within slow-driving distance. Where I bought duct tape. Where I sat in the parking lot, laughing my head off while I carefully applied duct tape to my bumper.

And this, my friend, is why I drive with duct tape.

Some things

Some things are bigger than a paycheck.

I wrote this beginning line about a week ago, after finding it on a writing book in my classroom. It stuck with me, and now I see why.

This week, my principal called me in for a chat. That can be scary and unexpected. Frightening, really. Especially if you just got back from an extended trip where you had to miss two days of work. Where you missed a faculty meeting, and you really don't know what's going on. When you're running on three hours of sleep.

Basically, he asked me to take a different position within the school. Next year, instead of teaching ELA as I have for (almost) the past five years, he's asked me to teach an elective course: "An Exposure to Spanish and French Culture". I'm still reeling. Maybe I shouldn't be writing this yet, because I'm still reeling.

I find it ironic that this year, the year when I'm not aching for change about now, is the year I find myself in a change. Perhaps this is only me, but I can't help but see that God could work in this: how He could use it in my life, as well as the life of my students. I guess, in the back of my mind, I can't help but think this could be a very good thing.

I've got the cultural background to help me out- though granted, I'll have to do a lot more research for Spanish than I will for French. The French thing will mostly just be recalling what I've learned over the years. The Spanish will require me to learn a lot: language, culture, traditions, celebrations... and so on. Thankfully, that comes fairly easily to me. And thankfully, I found out from one of my administrators today that they did weigh in what I do in the classroom.

For me, this is a lesson in not defining yourself by your job. I resisted that, especially in the beginning, but I've also forgotten not to. I've been in a comfortable groove where I am: I love the team I'm on, I like teaching ELA, and I like where I work. This new position hasn't changed some things, but somethings will change: new curriculum (which I will be creating from scratch), new students, at differing grade levels. New planning period (one that I'll actually be able to use), new timings (I'm going from 90-minute blocks to 45). Twice the number of students, and then some. New classroom management techniques. (Drill seargent, anyone? Don't smile 'till...?) More students, less individual attention. New creative opportunities, new ways to incorporate things I care about: music, art, language, food, and cultures. It's always a trade-off.

One of my sisters thinks this just may be the best thing to ever happen to me. Right now, I can see it as either the best or the worst, depending on my frame of mind. But I also see it as a way for me to grow, a new way for me to surrender to the Lord.

But for now? Spring break is here. I'm planning on visiting my sisters, doing some sewing, reorganizing my closet and working on a project for class. I'm planning on relaxing and spending some time in the sun. I'm planning on living. Some things are bigger than a paycheck.

I've seen hard times and I've been told
There must be a reason for it all

Happiness Is...

...the promise of spring.

MY.REDEEMER.LIVETH_ JEFF.IN V-26 N-15 SUNDAY_ 55-0410S
⁵⁹ As sure as that warm sun bathes across the fields when it's blistered from the winter's cold, there's got to be... That sun is put here for something. Down beneath there, somewhere, unseen to the human eye, is vegetation and life, that'll spring forth again, because that the sun was sent for that very same purpose.
And just as sure as the sunlight of God bathes into the human heart, there's a little hidden something there that men can't explain. It's calling out. There's got to be somewhere. I think of that, and my heart quivers for joy to know that we have the supreme evidence today that Christ raised from the dead. --WMB

A Wordle

Isn't it funny that tomatoes is so big? :)

The February Post

With the beginning of February I've been even more busy than normal. I'm now hosting an international teaching fellow in my room. I hope to make her experience the best it can be, yet because I've never hosted another teacher in my room, it's been a learning curve for me as well. Overall, I really like what I'm gaining from the experience--mostly in the way of keeping more organized, because I have to. I love organization, but I sometimes have to remind myself of its merits.

I'm also taking a Children's Lit and Technology class-- I'm still in the Master's program, and still not sure why-- :)--but this class is particularly fun, and not hard at all. It's also practical-- I'm making projects I can use in the classroom without any modification. I've also managed to get my computer fixed. This is the first entry in a long time from ye old laptop.

I'm also ready for Spring. We've now had at least one snow, one ice storm, and plenty of cold weather to do me in. I'm actually okay with the weather-- what I'm not okay with are the clothes. I'm ready for color--if not outside, then at least on me. Maybe this will lead to sewing? 'Cause I certainly haven't been.

I have been knitting though-- first, I finished a hat for my nephew, then I made myself a hat. Finally, I made one for my brother-in-law. And now I'm working on a raw-silk cabled scarf--in which I can't keep up with how many rows I'm supposed to make into a cable. I need to pull out my nifty row counter so that I'll stop making mistakes that make me rip back. I'm looking towards a sweater-- I've got some lovely rust-colored yarn to make up--but I'm not sure I'll get to it before my knitting fervor runs out--it does, invariably, in the first warm days of spring.

I've also been baking-- mostly brownies. I've made the same recipe so many times--a slightly modified version of Dorie Greenspan's Classic Brownies--that I've memorized the recipe. Today I also (finally) made something different from this cookbook-- a "Swedish Neighbor Cake"--and it was just about as amazing as the brownies. We've been eating Sunday dinner at home more recently, usually because Mama and I have cooked too much more than anything, so I've been trying to keep something sweet around on the weekend. This time, I made the batter while everything else was warming in the oven and put it in when we pulled everything else out. It was wonderful, warm, lemony and fragrant. (Thanks, Aunt Debbie, for this cookbook! I love it.)

What I haven't been doing is writing. It's been my goal to post at least once a week on here, and, well... that hasn't happened. I think it's the mid-winter slump--and hopefully it will end sooner than later.

Classic Brownies
slightly modified from Dorie Greenspan's Baking: From My Home to Yours

5 T. butter, cut into five pieces
4 oz. bittersweet chocolate (I use Ghirardelli chips)
2 oz. unsweetened chocolate, chopped
3/4 c. sugar
2 eggs
1 t. vanilla extract
1/2 t. espresso powder
1/4-1/2 t. salt (I use a rounded 1/4 teaspoon)
1/2 c. flour (The original recipe called for 1/3--but I made this "mistake"
the first time I made the brownies and I like the extra chewiness)
3/4 c. walnuts, chopped coarsely

Preheat oven to 325. Grease a 8" square brownie pan.

Combine chocolates and butter into a saucepan and melt together, using the very lowest setting on stove. When chocolate is mostly melted but still contains lumps, take off heat and stir to melt the rest of the chocolate*. Using a wooden spoon or a whisk, mix in sugar (it will be grainy). Mix in eggs one at a time, then add in vanilla (it should be smoother now). Mix in salt and espresso powder.

Using a rubber spatula, fold in flour (you should still be able to see streaks--just like muffins). Fold in walnuts. Pour into pan; smooth out the top of the brownies so that batter is evenly distributed over bottom of pan. Bake for 30-33 minutes, or until top is dry and a knife inserted into middle comes (almost) clean. Let cool on a wire rack, and cut into squares.

*This always works with our gas cooktop-- it's just about how I always melt chocolate. If you don't feel comfortable with this, Dorie G. recommends the double boiler method.

Thankful List

• good music
• playing music (Even better with other musicians, preferably ones better than myself. That's not hard to come by, and I learn more that way)
• cooking and baking, simmering and stewing
• knitting
• reading Elizabeth Zimmerman and Julia Child
• re-reading books I read as a teenager, and realizing how my perceptions have changed with experiences
• marking things off to-do lists :)
• listening to Bro. Branham
• the word sword is mostly word
• quick, fun sewing projects
• a working sewing machine :)
• writing
• sisters
• old friends
• my oldest nephew's mental connections
• my oldest niece's zest for life
• my middle nephew's smile
• my youngest nephew's hugs
• my youngest neice's sweet baby chatter

Not I, But Christ

I remember the quality of light that day, as well a the Message playing across the house. The sunlight streamed into the kitchen window as I mopped the old yellow linoleum. I was listening to How Do I Overcome, and as I listened, I realized that this Christian walk was all about surrender. I remember praying, Lord, I can't. I don't know how to do that.

Four years before, I'd given my heart to Christ. I knew it was my day and time--the message that morning called me, and I knew it was my time to go God's way. After I'd walked up to the altar, surrendering my life, Daddy baptised me in muddy-blue lake waters. That afternoon, as he sat down at the piano to play, I asked him the one question that still bothered me: what do I do about the desires I know are against the Lord, but are still in my heart? He took me to Romans seven--Now it is no more I that doeth it, but sin that dwelleth in me. For I know that in me (that is in my flesh), dwelleth no good thing: for to will is present with me; but how to perform that which is good I find not. I tried to understand, but I didn't. I still fought against the desires that lived within me. I didn't know how to get rid of them. Four years later, I still didn't have the answer--but I knew I needed the Holy Ghost.

That's where life found me on that June afternoon. My pastor was preaching on How Do I Overcome, and we were just about to have our first annual tent meetings. I remember getting up during the mornings and, sitting on my bed and praying, trying to surrender myself to a higher power, but ending up more emotional than anything else. Where was the power? I wondered. Where was the strength? What do I do to get there?

During those first meetings, so many were blessed. The Holy Spirit came down, and I watched my sister be reborn. But I couldn't seem to break through. I watched around me as people received their need: chains broken and peace restored. But after the meeting was over, I wasn't different. I needed more. I still needed the Holy Ghost.

Despite my need, the Lord was still working on my life. I'd just graduated from high school, and struggled with going to college. I knew my place, and I knew what the Lord had spoken to my heart two years before. Just when I had decided to "give it all up" and stay at home, the Lord laid in my lap a scholarship I didn't deserve, based on an essay I'd written at the last moment on a rehashed topic. I didn't know what to do, so I asked both the university and the scholarship committee if school could be pushed into the future six months. By God's grace I got my break.

I spent the summer helping some good friends and neighbors renovate their house. I watched as the Twin Towers fell on my mother's birthday. And then, two weeks after the Towers fell, my parents and I boarded a plane for Arizona. We were going to camp meetings. I could go because I wasn't yet in school.

I had fun for the first couple of days. I joined the camp choir. I played some volleyball, met some wonderful brothers and sisters, and was having a great time. But the desire still rang: Lord, I need the Holy Ghost.

It was still ringing that Friday night as I walked up to the platform with the choir. We began to sing, and the Holy Ghost began to fall. As I watched the audience, I felt that desire well up again. I didn't ask Him how. I didn't ask Him what I had to do. Lord, I wish you would come down to me, I prayed. I walked down from the platform back to my seat, and with my parents beside me, He answered my prayer. In the moments following, I learned full surrender. I met Jesus Christ, face to face, and He answered my need.

Not I but Christ. Since then, I've fallen flat on my face. I've been rebellious at times, but I've been forgiven, and I've been refilled. I've had to learn, over and over, that it's His work; it's not mine. And His Grace grows sweeter daily. His Work isn't finished; I'm still clay in His hands. And when my desires are contrary to His, the only answer is a surrendered heart. He taught me how.

For through the law I am dead to the law, that I might live unto God.

I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me:
and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by the faith of the Son of God,
who loved me and gave Himself for me.

--Galatians 2:19-20

What to Write About

I'm here to write. I've not figured out what about yet-- I've just got the urge to be here, and to to write about life. (Does this only happen to me, or does it happen to others? )

I could write about my exciting, exhausting Holiday from school, where I took two successive trips and sandwiched in Christmas at home--barely. About what an awesome and wonderful time I had hanging out with my good friend, Alyssa from Australia, and making two cheesecakes for/with those great folks from Indiana, learning I wasn't a hopeless ice skater, visiting the Creation Museum where I found the perfect gift for Noelle, and playing Message Trivia with good friends. (Alyssa ransacked us all.)

I could talk of the journey home-- the gorgeous icy drive through the mountains, stopping by the Walmart on a snowy afternoon and the successive snowball "fight"--The trip to downtown Greenville for great Thai food, my talkative and hilarious sister, Rebecca who made Alyssa and me laugh. I could mention running back up to Asheville the next day to visit Heather, then spending the evening at home making the best pizza I've ever put in my mouth. (I need to make it again.)

I could talk of Rebecca's birthday breakfast--the slow and relaxing day at home, in which we only went out to see the (flooded) church, and came home to tea and more relaxing and knitting--and not-so-relaxed packing.

I could talk of getting up the next morning at 4AM, driving to fly, flying to drive, and arriving at a camp where I knew but one other person. I could write of meeting others, meeting the Lord Jesus Christ, playing and playing and playing the piano, loving the interchange between instruments, chatting music, and playing--all for the glory of God. I could talk of how doctrinal differences don't ruin the Holy Spirit's flow--as long as I don't get in the way.

I could write about coming home--how, for the first time, a commercial plane felt slightly more like my grandad's--how my heart was glad to see the mountains--how the feeling of homeward-bound-ness and going to church that night was euphoric. I could talk of the next couple of days, where I was a couch potato, and then discovered school was looming right around the corner.

And now? I could talk of the goodness of the Lord. The strength for the days the Lord has given me, both in sickness and health, stress or not. How it's good to see my students again--even the ones that drive me a little crazy. How I admire my family, and think they're just about the best people around. How I'm thankful for the new ideas, the beautiful thoughts and the crafty stuff that collected on my Google Reader while I was absent.

Perhaps that's what I should write about.

I didn't realize just how close to home I was when I snapped this outside my plane window.

Puzzle Piece

My life is made up of pieces that should be a cohesive whole--but they're not. The pieces feel like a puzzle thrown in a box all which-a-way.

As a teacher, I nurture others, pulling my students into stories and writing, cajoling them to learning. This life requires more of my time than the others. It's where I earn my daily bread--working to form lives and minds. But there's a tug-of-war between work and life.

As a friend, I talk and love and sometimes come out to play, though not as often as I used to. Most of my girlfriends are concerned with their families and new-found lives, so our conversations have more to do with where I'm headed than where I am now. The exceptions are my sisters. Both understand the balance that is easy to loose when you're a teacher.

As an artist, I'm barely there. The creative drive is still exists: projects fester in my mind, but rarely leave, stifled by the demands of paperwork and students' needs. I look in awe at others who work full-time, yet still have the time and energy to create every day.

As a daughter, an aunt and a sister I'm connected to those who have lived my life with me. Our relationships haven't changed much over the years--I'm still the aunt who buys candy at Cracker Barrel, the sister with the crazy, flighty ideas. What changes is the deepening of experiences, stretching through time.

As a child of my God, my life is the closest to complete. It's where I find the mistakes I've made and the changes I need to make. It's where I dedicate my life daily to the Cross. It's real-life, real-time, real-close, though that's not always apparent on the surface. It's also the one I struggle to put first. This is where I see the patterns echoing between the pieces, even as their shapes constantly change. I want a stronger vision. I want the puzzle of my life complete, strong and resilient.

This has been percolating for a week...

I meant to post while it was still summer, but time got away from me. Despite being in school all summer long, I had a wonderful summer. A trip to visit a great friend and a visit from two other great friends climaxed the summer. I really, really need to post some pictures here!


But now that school has begun for the next school year, a new idea has been percolating: the idea of being content with your situation.


I'm an idealist--and I don't like things unless they match up with my ideas of how things should be. And--well, teaching was never part of my plan for life (despite me getting my bachelor's in Elementary Ed.) I thought I'd be on to greater stuff for now. I thought I'd be living the typical Message girl's dream life. For the past four years, I've not been happy to simply do my job, and content to let the Lord lead me onto a higher calling.

My current contentment started with a comment by another teacher. It was simple enough advice: "Be Excited." Be excited to be there for your students and to teach them. (And stop worrying if life isn't exactly the way you thought it would be.) That one small phrase has made the hard job of teaching sixth graders a pleasure--and it's freed me to be more of the teacher I want to be.

I still don't plan on doing this the rest of my life. But I do plan on enjoying the ride, as long as it lasts, until it's time to change.

Summer 2009