Ch-ch-ch-changes...

Just a heads-up: for the next two (or three) years, I will be incommunicado. Why, you ask so naïvely? Because I got accepted to grad school, that's why, my friend. And it's going to be nuts.

About four years ago, I sent a text message to two of my friends: "I want to teach deaf kids." Granted, this is not the most eloquent of all text messages, and looking back on it, I wish it would have been more beautifully worded. But this is what I got. It was the spring of 2009, and it was the beginning of a great passion.

In the fall of 2009, I started teaching myself sign language through youtube videos (praise God for youtube) and started inquiring about the Deaf/Hard of Hearing (DHH) program at the U. Since then I have taken ASL classes, I have observed an Early Childhood Special Education (ECSE) DHH classroom and a middle school DHH classroom, and I have been accepted to grad school.

Nearly four years of passion has been channeled to this moment. I could explode with happiness. I'm a happy crier (just ask my sister-in-law), and I will cry with happiness soon I'm sure. Yes, I do love my job, and no, I don't want to stop teaching English. But this is what God made me for. I feel a distinct calling to this position, this job.

I don't know what it will look like honestly. I don't know where I will end up teaching. I don't know how long it will take me to get through the program (though I have a projection). I don't know if God will say go to Ireland or India or China (with Hope Station??). I don't know a lot of things, but I know that I am excited and passionate and overwhelmed.

So for the next few years, as I go to school and teach English full-time, I probably won't be doing much blogging or texting or facebooking or tweeting. Maybe it won't change, but it probably will.

I don't like changes, but this is a change that I'm so excited about I can't breathe.

Magical Balls of Fluff and the End of Another Year

I sat in front of my screen door this morning, looking out into the front yard. The cottonwood trees have been a constant pleasure for me in years past, and today was the first day they seemed to free their small seedlings. As I watched them gather on the road, floating downward with soft motion, the wind picked up some. Now, it's not like they were just blown down the road. No, these little miracles formed a body of cotton, swirling in the perpetual dance of life. With the wind as a propellent, these magical balls of fluff give life to the desires of my soul. Today is my first official day of summer, and the seedlings of the cottonwood trees depict a slow dance, the peace that I want for my summer. I'm not sure I can put into words the feeling I get while watching them, but I think it's truly something akin to peace.

This week marks the end of my first year of teaching, my 20th year in the educational system. I can honestly say that this year was the most stressful of them all. I think I can also say that it was also the most rewarding of them all. Many things did not go the way I wanted, but many things turned out better than I could have ever imagined. And most of these things were not lessons or activities (though I had some success there too). No, these successes were mostly in the amazing relationships I have with my students, some of now who are friends.

The end of this year brings happiness, but also some tears. Not only does this week end my first year of teaching, but it also brings the end of some amazingly impactful careers. Two of my most influential teachers retired this week, and though I know I will see them again, it will be weird for them not to be at Anoka anymore. One is my former Humanities teacher, who taught me about life and shared with me wisdom that, in my high school career, I had never gotten before. The other is my former College in Schools (CIS) teacher, who taught me so much I don't even know where to begin. Both were influential in my formative years, and they have been indispensable colleagues.

One story, then I'm done. In January, I posted about an unfortunate event that happened in my classroom. Now that it's been five months or so, I think I can share a little bit more about that.

I had a fight in my classroom. It was not a yelling and screaming fight. It was a boxing match. No words were exchanged; they just began fighting. I can sincerely claim it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that I would never wish on anyone. That day, I got by in a daze. A little later in my day, my former CIS teacher showed up at my door. I had gotten a lot of sympathy that day, but he just hugged me. I'm sure he asked me if I was okay, but I don't remember what I said, I just remember that hug. It was the first time I felt safe all day. Again, I can't truly describe how that felt, but those who have been through something like this will know, feeling safe again is a rarity. Now he is retired, and though I know I am safe in my building, his presence will be missed in my little world.

Okay, I have now ranted about seedlings and retirements and fights. They all seem interconnected to me in some way. This year I have learned more about myself and about the human condition than all of my years combined. I have also learned that God is essential in all of my wanderings, even though I am horrible at remembering to include him most of the time. I have been blessed by students, colleagues, my bosses, my friends (new and old), my parents, my cats, my siblings, my nephew. The list could go on and on, and I would never be able to share them all.

A few weeks ago I discovered this song, and I think it spells out the end of my year perfectly.



So in conclusion, I have had a fantastic year that has taught me a lot, and I'm sure it will continue to teach me as summer rolls on. As some of my girls would say to me,"You go girl."

All for his glory and fame.

Looking East

In the silence of a Saturday morning, I'm reflecting on the week behind me. Actually, I don't imagine the past stretching out behind me, as if it were an ever growing timeline of moments and words that extends out behind me in some physical capacity. And since I don't feel this, I shouldn't say it that way. I tend to think of the past as perpetually extending east. It's not "back a few years ago" in my head or even "back in high school," but east. Therefore, since I am facing east in my morning chair, I guess I am facing the past, facing what God has taught me or will teach me in further reflection.

Sometimes I feel like I live for the weekend, always looking west (to the future) to when I will be able to sleep in or grade or read in peace. Rest. However, the weekends roll around, and they tend to be filled with about the same amount of stress as the weeks. Mostly because me, being over-ambitious, declare I am going to get a significant amount of grading done, and I complete half of it. Or none of it. Rarely do my weekends actually turn out the way I want them to.

But how can I complain? I still get weekends and don't have to hold a second job that fills my time on the weekends as well. Or have one job that I work 7 days a week. I am thankful.

But back to looking east, I realize that my week was successful in some ways, and in other ways, it fell flat. Conversations with students lacking patience might be what some of them needed to hear. Conversations filled with too much patience for students might do more hurt that good. Conversations with students containing too much caring for students well-being might color my view of students. Sometimes I feel like my classroom is a fish-bowl, and the student I see is all that matters. But other people have opinions of students and know more about their lives. I need to learn how to be more well-rounded with my students. But I will never agree that all students deserve the same treatment. What is fair is not always equal.

So looking west, I hope that my heart can be in the right place, that my love for my students can be Christ's love. And I can help them in my classroom, whether it be a fish-bowl or not.

Coming Home

After a year, almost to the day, I have reentered the blogosphere with a curious calling on my heart. I don't know what it really means, but I know that I'm supposed to write, to share. I'm sorry for those of you who are faithful readers who have lost interest because of my absence, but I'm back now, with a different outlook on life.

Much has happened in a year. I have survived student teaching and graduated from college. I have learned I am going to be an aunt (literally within the next few days as yesterday baby was due). I have travelled to another country where part of my heart will always reside. I have read many books that have overwhelmed my soul. I have lost cats and gained others. I have been blessed with a part-time job which transitioned into a full-time job. I have students whom I adore and constantly challenge me.

But the biggest challenge and blessing came in this past week. I can't share details, nor do I really want to, but let's just say that I experienced something that will (Lord willing) only happen once in my teaching career. I know that's frustratingly vague, but to protect my students, I'm gonna keep it that way.

Because of this moment, this outpouring of emotion, my eyes have been opened to the pain of some of my students. And my heart aches. Instead of wanting to run away, I feel so much more anchored to the floor of my classroom. I have come home.

Some of you chuckle because I literally did come home. I am working at the school that I graduated from. But this is different. Because of this moment of utter pain and unguarded emotion, I don't think there is anywhere I would rather teach.

Yes, I probably will teach at another school at some point. Most teachers don't stay at the school they begin at. And especially with the Masters I plan on getting, my chances of staying at my school are little to none.

And yet. And yet I am overwhelmed. I feel a certain togetherness in my classroom that can only come from God. Instead of a splintering of souls, I feel like there is a coming together, a support system in a room of four cinder-block walls and posters.

Perhaps a little dumbly, I am going into this next week with high hopes. I know my students will not always be fantastic. I know that I will fail to teach them or be patient with them or plan something for them to learn. I know that the togetherness may not last, and maybe it's just an illusion that my soul wants to cling to, but I want to keep it.

I have hope. "'And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?'"(Esther 4:14).

What Truly Matters: The Gospel

As I am sitting here, my last free day before I begin student teaching, I am hit with the overwhelming urge to share with you the only reason my life matters:

Jesus Christ.

I know many of you know that I believe in Him already, but do you really understand, I wonder?

As I have grown up, I have realized that I am absolutely hopeless. Everything I do is wrong. I am never able to do what is right or good. I just am an icky person without much direction in my life. I fall short of people's expectations and of my own. I struggle with anxiety. I am afraid of everything. Even my own shadow.

But even for me, a fearful coward, there is hope. As I started realizing my grossness, I also began to realize that I need someone to save me from my hopelessness. What is the point of life if there is no hope?

Jesus stepped in to save me. He became my hope. I don't know how to really describe it, but Jesus filled my dark places with light. And where there was light, there was joy and hope and life. I have never felt more alive than when I am reading His words.

Now, I know it sounds like it's all about me, but it's not. It's all about Him. Seriously. Without Him, I am in a desert of anxiety and humiliation and shame and lust and greed and a million other sinful things. With Him, I drown in the water of life. I can't breathe for the sheer joy of it. Those sinful things that envelop my soul without Him are covered by His blood and are completely removed.

In Jesus, there is true satisfaction that no other relationship or grade or drug can give. He fills the places of pain and balms them with His love. He loves you. The God of the universe, the whole universe, loves you. He comes to you and wants know you. He wants to become your steadfast.

This love is not brought by being a good person. As humans, there is nothing we can do to increase the love of God. His love is a gift. His grace is a gift. There is nothing we can do to add our salvation. We cannot earn it. I mean, honestly, how could we? We are creatures that only live for a hundred or so years. Every day we are sinning. There is no way we could earn the love of God who is perfect and has no sin.

That is why Jesus came to die for us. I know most people have heard this one: Jesus died for you. But think about it this way. If someone truly loved you, he would willingly throw himself in front of a bus to save you from certain death. He would jump into a sea entirely infested with sharks to pull you from their jaws. He would sacrifice his life for yours so that you would not have to endure torture and death. This is what Jesus did. He died so you would not have to be judged on the basis of your sin. That is a death that you could never come back from. In His death, Jesus took the sins of the world. I mean, He was so sinful in that moment that even God could not look upon Him, God's only Son. But it was necessary so that we, the slimy human beings who actually committed the sins that Jesus died for, could receive the grace of God the Father.

"For there is no distinction: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God's righteousness, because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins" (Romans 3:23-25).

"When you were slaves to sin, you were free in regard to righteousness. But what fruit were you getting at that time from the things of which you are now ashamed? The end of those things is death. But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Romans 6:20-23).

"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him" (John 3:16-17).

Jesus came to give us forgiveness from our crimes. Because of His death, we can stand before the ultimate judge, God, and be pardoned of the sins we commit. If our sins were stains on a white shirt, the blood of Jesus worked like bleach and removed everything. Not even that mustard stain in the corner will remain. Whatever that represents will be forgiven. Our death for that sin is cancelled.

"And by that will we have been sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all" (Hebrews 10:10).

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9).

If you believe that Jesus died for you and ask Him, He will forgive every blot and blemish of sin on your life. He will love you and hold you. He will fill the unsatisfied places that feel infinitely empty. He wants you to know him and to see his glory.

"And the Word [Jesus] became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.... And from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace" (John 1:14 and 16).

If you have questions about what I'm talking about, shoot me an email or a message on Facebook. I'd love to talk more about this.

Pliable

God is teaching me, once again, to be pliable.

"Pliable" by Brooke Fraser

Providing Love in Public Schools: A Christ-Centered Goal

On the first day I have spent any time on Facebook in three or four days, I stumbled upon an amazing article about Christians becoming involved in public schools.

Here is my heart:

I want to love children throughout their education. I want to be a loving presence in a broken life. I want to be encouragement where there is none. I want to make a difference in their lives whether they be 18 or 8 or 8 months, whether they be deaf or hearing or stubbornly ignoring the world. I want to be there for them when crises arise. I want to save them from their broken and neglecting homes. I want to create a safe haven from them. I want the love of Christ to be obvious to them in how I treat them, respect them, teach them.

I did go to a private school for a while, both in elementary school and in college. But my heart is truly in the public school system. And this can only be because of Christ. We are not to isolate ourselves.

Do all things without grumbling or questioning, that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked and twisted generation, among whom you shine as lights in the world.... (Philippians 2:14-15)

I know that the public school system has its flaws and that Christians might not be able to reform every school, but being there, present in the midst of all the darkness, might bring Christ's light to someone who might not have known it otherwise.

This article has a lot of really good points. I would encourage you to read it, whether you agree or not. Gaining knowledge helps you form more Godly opinions. Read the article and read your Bible. But disregard the article if you have little time. Dig into the Word and pray about where God is leading you, public schools or not.