Post #41: A Tribute to my Grade Tens, and Being Weird

We just got back from watching the newest X-Men movie in the best theatre ever.  We are talking full out reclining chairs (Lazy Boy style), more leg room than my 6'2" tall husband could ever need, and inexpensive to boot.  I would almost say this theatre is the best-kept secret of our downtown core!

And the movie was pretty spectacular too.  Mind you, I'm partial to the X-Men franchise.  When the original trilogy started I was hooked (and angered by the end of it).  I watched the cartoons, researched the multiple universes and characters, and dream about the day when I can own the comics.

I guess I love the idea that the strange things about you that people don't understand can often be used to help others.

Last Saturday I got the opportunity to do something that, for me, was pretty spectacular.  When I was teaching in BC I taught English to this incredible group of grade tens.  And I'm not using the word "incredible" lightly.  I have never had a group rise to challenges the way they did.  The wrote me poetry, short stories, essays, and acted out a play in a manner I have never seen any other group of students do.  By the end of the semester, students who struggled to hand in assignments on time (or at all), were handing in their essays ahead of schedule, asking me for feedback on how they could make their work better.  I had one student write a poem and analyze it, and then hand it to me and say, "Ms. S, read my poem, then my analysis, and then my poem again.  It will blow your mind."

It did.

But that isn't what sticks with me the most about these kids.

If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm weird.  I have always known this about myself, and to be honest it is something I have always been insecure about.  I love classic literature and the BBC adaptations of them (I walk around with a cloth bag that has Pride and Prejudice written on it.  Friends have made me coasters and mugs with my favourite BBC gents on them).  I love epic stories, like Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, and Harry Potter.  I get so excited when a new Marvel movie is set to come to theatres (in the last few weeks we bought the first two X-Men movies to prepare for this one... I even own a Captain America bobble head).  I grew up with brothers who video gamed, and as a result all of my siblings do.  I love the look on a student's face when they find out I play World of Warcraft or that RPGs are my preference in games.  When I get stressed out, I need to run.  When I'm upset or unsure or needing to mull something over (or else escape), I run.  I also dance.

Some people get this.  A lot of people don't.  And every time someone looks at me like I'm crazy or makes a comment about something I love that is belittling, I feel a part of me crush.  I think of all the times growing up that I felt like people just humored me because I was different.  That my oddities and peculiarities were something to be tolerated, but I could still feel the internal eye rolls.

These students got me.  Not all of them shared interests with me.  But each of them had their own interests.  And they embraced them.  This class embraced each other.  Some of them loved BBC movies (I lent out some of my Jane Austen ones to some of them).  Some of them loved their epic movies.  Some just liked longboarding to their teacher's house to rearrange her snowmen figurines. Some loved fantasy.  Some were quiet.  Some where bubbly.

Each of them was unique and different.

And they were okay with that.

Because they were okay with that, they could accept it from each other.

And they could accept it from me.

I was able to infuse my lessons with my quirks, and what I found was that my students weren't just more interested in the lessons, they were able to understand and learn because of it.

These students taught me that it is okay to be a little different.  God created me unique and there is nothing wrong with embracing that.

So last Saturday, with the help of some staff, I was able to Skype into the grade ceremony of these students and read them some words I had written.  I could tell them how much they meant to me, how much I learned from them, and could encourage them to embrace who God created them to be.

Talk about being on a high starting this week off.

Then this week happened.

It has been a bit of a hard week.  I don't really want to get into details, but some of the stuff involves not feeling well, waiting on a job, and the fact that one year ago today my Oma died.

I woke up this morning and just wanted to cry.  I felt really low.  And to be honest I just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep through church.

But I didn't.  I went.  One of the songs we sang was "In Christ Alone."  This is one of my favourite songs.  We sang it at our wedding, and I have it memorized on the piano, so no matter where I find a piano, I can sit down and play this song.  And today it reminded me that it is in Christ alone that I have hope.

The lesson I always seem to have to come back to is resting in that knowledge.  Remembering that God made me who I am.  That my identity is in Him.  That when others don't get me or roll their eyes at me, He made me unique.  That when nothing quite seems to be going right, and I feel really down, He is my hope.  When things don't go the way I want them to (which is typically how things go), God always works them out in a manner that is for my best.  In a way that makes me better.  And in a way that brings Him the glory.

My grade tens, without realizing, showed me that aspect of God.  They did not reject me, but challenged me to use my talents and quirks.  To grow.

And so for now, despite still wanting to cry, I rest in the knowledge that Jesus is Immanuel... God with us.  My Lord sees and knows.  He grows and challenges.  And He loves.

It also means that tomorrow's run is going to be muchly needed and quite therapeutic as my feet pound the pavement and my heart cries out to God.

So thank you, my grade tens (who are no longer in grade ten), for showing me Christ's love.  Thank you for leaving with me a reminder that no matter what is going on or how I feel, God still sees me.  God knows.  And it is in Him and Him alone that I must rest.

This class had asked me to reserve a spot for them at our wedding.  So we did.

Post #40: Jumping into my Mullings

Shortly after the new semester started I had an interesting happening with some of my students.  It was one of those situations that you decide to file in your brain because you know that at some point it is going to become useful.  I feel like today it's time to pull that conversation out.

At my school, if you taught first period you were also responsible for opening with devotions and prayer.  Doing devotions with a class is something I have always struggled with.  I have a hard time just reading a one page story-scripture-prayer.  I find that most of my students have grown up in the church and have heard a lot of what those kinds of devotionals deal with.  And in many cases, a lot of the stories don't fully apply to them.

So I decided that I would share with them things that had really spoken to me.  Which meant I was reading them a lot of CS Lewis, Tim Keller, and even some George Macdonald.  I had one student remark that I should just get the devotional 100 Days with CS Lewis.  It was a pretty tempting idea.

What I also noticed is that a lot of what I was sharing, and a lot of what my favourite writers deal with, is the idea of pain, suffering, and sorrow.  At one point I had some students ask if I could maybe find some happier topics to share with them.

So I spent some time trying to scour the internet for "happy" devotionals.  But in doing so I discovered something.  The "happy" devotionals were either happy because they were shallow and didn't seem to deal with reality, or they were happy because they focused on how through pain and difficulty God had made Himself known.

I went back to my students and shared this with them.  And none of them seemed all that surprised.

I sometimes feel bad because I know that I do focus on, as Lewis called it, "the problem of pain," a lot.  But I am beginning to realize that I think that is because everything that happens to us that truly matters, is somehow tied to a level of pain.

I got out and ran five days this week.  I haven't run that much in a long time.  Four of those runs were 7.5km.  Part way through yesterday's run my legs felt like they wanted to give out.  They were hurting.  My lungs were screaming for air.  I was in a measure of pain.  But today I feel great because that pain meant I was stretching myself.  It meant I was growing and developing as a runner.  When I start to feel no exhaustion and pain, it will mean I am no longer challenging myself.

To some of you, that might seem like a pretty lame example of pain.  But at the same time that I am going through that, I am also dealing with the fact that my teaching contract ended three weeks ago and I have spent the last three weeks supply teaching.  I went from working full time to working part time.  I am trying to deal not just with the sense of loss because I no longer get to see my kids every day, but am also dealing with issues of my own self-worth because I am not working full-time.  Every time I go out for a run in the mornings, I am reminded that I am only running because I am not working.  And in a way, I battle feeling lazy because I am not working.

Again, that still might not seem like much to some people.  But I remember talking with a friend when I worked in Williams Lake, and she said that everyone's pain is different.  That doesn't make it a better or worse pain.  But we are all at different places in our lives, and when we feel pain, it is still painful.

I know people who deal with chronic physical pain.  People who love being active but because of things going on in their bodies, they are in a constant battle and are in regular pain.

I know people who are dealing with a court case that has to do with the murder of their son three years ago.

I know people who are trying to deal with the stress and pain of being a single parent while a spouse is away for work.

I know people dealing with infertility.

I know people who are trying to finish off high school strong.  Who feel the pressure of having to be involved in extra curricular activities, church activities, and volunteer activities, while also trying to get the grades they need for university and working a job to pay for that education.

I know people feeling the pain and loneliness of rejection and of being single.

Each of us, in some way, shape, or form, is dealing with some element of pain.

In church, our pastor has been dealing with this topic fairly regularly as well, particularly because of the Tim Bosma murder trial that is going on.  Tim grew up in our church and his murder struck it hard.  A few Sundays ago, our pastor reference Lewis on pain.  She shared the following quotation:

We can ignore even pleasure. But pain insists upon being attended to.  God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is his megaphone to rouse a deaf world.

I had a discussion with a friend about this quotation after church.  My friend has always struggled with these words of Lewis' because she feels like it points to the idea that our pain is our own fault.  That we are in pain because we haven't paid enough attention to God or haven't done something right. I tried to share that that isn't what Lewis is saying in his book. The fact is we live in a fallen world and there is pain and suffering.  Typically speaking, when things are going well our hearts are not as driven to God as they are when we are hurting.

Yesterday I sat down and was reading Keller's book Walking with God through Pain and Suffering.  I had put the book down for a while because I was feeling like I was focusing so much on this topic.  But what I read yesterday tied in a lot with what my thoughts on this subject have been lately.  Keller references Pope Gregory the Great and what he has to say on the idea of suffering.  Lewis says that Gregory "rejected the idea that suffering was an illusion or result of capricious fate--suffering always had a purpose.  Rather than being helpless victims of inexorable fate, people were in the hands of a wise God, and... we should not rail against cruel blind fate, but bear our suffering patiently" (47).

As I finished reading this paragraph, I could feel all of the "but..." responses building up in me.  So I continued reading.  Keller goes on to say that Gregory "also rejected... the belief that the proportion of our suffering is due to the proportion of our sins.  [He] taught that while suffering in general is caused by human sin, that does not mean particular forms of suffering are always the result of specific sins.  He warned against making too direct a connection between sin and suffering" (47).  Gregory talks about how there is are many different kinds of suffering in the world, and that serve different purpose.  Some suffering is given as a form of correction, and some is given to prevent future wrongs.

But some suffering, and I sometimes think this is what we struggle with, has no other purpose than to cause us to love God more for who He is, and to discover ultimate peace in Him.

A little later in the book Keller references Martin Luther's take on suffering.  What he says seems to sum up this whole idea really well.  He says that "we must not try to use patience to earn our peace with Christ--we need the peace with Christ already if we are going to be patient.  We must rest in the sufficiency of Christ's sufferings for us before we can even begin to suffer like him.  If we know he loves us unconditionally, despite our flaws, then we know he is present with us and working in our lives in times of pain and sorrow.  And we can know that he is not merely close to us, but he is indwelling, and that since we are members of his body, he senses our sufferings as his own" (52-53).

That last part was what really hit home for me.  When I am struggling and in pain, Christ is not just near me in my suffering.  Rather, he senses my suffering as his own.

That night a week ago where I cried myself to sleep because I felt lonely (moving somewhere and trying to make friends is really not easy, and it only gets harder when you're no longer in school)?  He wasn't just near me but felt that loneliness as His own.

Those times where I feel wholly inadequate because I am not teaching full-time?  Where I feel like I don't measure up to the expectations I have for myself?  He isn't just near me, but feels my pain as well.

So why do I focus so much on pain?  Because pain is something all of us experience and understand.  And it is perhaps the thing that we feel most deeply.

There is nothing quite like suffering through something and then discovering a person who has gone through that same thing.  There is a connection that you feel with that person because they "get" you.  They don't just understand what you're feeling--they have felt what you are feeling.

Why is pain God's megaphone to us?  Because that is when He shows Himself to be that friend.  He is not just standing beside you, patting your back and saying "There, there."  But because we are members of His body, He senses our sufferings as His own.  He doesn't just understand our pain.  He feels it too.

Pain tends to be what draws people together.  I think it makes sense that it is what draws us closer to our God as well.

Post #39: It is Well

You have to love Facebook “Memories.”  Every day I get by notification telling me what was happing in my life (at least according to Facebook). 

Over the weekend I had a memory that brought up a blog post I had written four years ago.  It had to do with the idea of God “seeing” us.  In the post I recounted the story of Naomi.  I began to realize that even in the midst of Naomi’s pain and uncertainty (a widow whose sons were also dead who moved back home and had no livelihood, just a gutsy daughter-in-law), God still saw her.  And while He didn’t give her her husband and sons back, He gave her Ruth, Boaz, and eventually a grandson to fill her arms.  God saw her.

I mentioned the story of Hannah and how the Bible talks about God “seeing” her.

What I found interesting was how four years later this blog post hit home for me.  A couple days before March Break I found out for sure that the teacher I have been filling in for is coming back. 

That next Thursday (the 31^st), will be my last day working full-time.  I then go back to supply teaching.

I’m not going to lie—that was really hard.

I love teaching.  It is exhausting and draining, but it also so rewarding.  I love watching students grasp concepts.  I love helping them learn new skills.  I love watching how it changes their outlook on life when they realize their teacher cares about them.  Even when I just want to fall into bed at night, I feel like I am fulfilling a purpose for my life. As I came back after March Break I felt a sense of dread knowing that that was coming to a close.

Now I will still get to supply teach.  And the principal has told me that I will go to the top of the list for call-ins; so I don’t doubt I will be kept busy!

But it was still hard.

When I read that post, I was reminded of a time in my life where it felt like I was experiencing God both intellectually and emotionally.  Everything seemed like it was in alignment.  As I read or learned more about who He is, I felt myself also experiencing his presence in a more real and tangible way.  It was a challenging time in my life for numerous reasons, but my relationship with God felt so close.

Over the last year or so I have been talking with a friend and have loved hearing how God has been changing her outlook on life.  She has been getting to know and experience Him in different ways.  I can always count on this friend to ask me what God is doing in my life too.

I sometimes struggle with this question because I feel like I’m in a different place.  I can tell her what I’m learning, but my emotions have felt somewhat disconnected and this concerned me.

On Saturday night I had trouble falling asleep because of everything going through my mind (the job, the fact that our tenants gave us their 60 day notice and we love them, that sort of stuff).  No sooner had I started thinking about this than I just stopped and prayed for peace.  I remember saying, “God, I’m really good at asking You to give others peace in their circumstances.  Please give me Your peace right now through all of this.”

And He did.

I’m still nervous and unsure.  But underlying it all is a peace.  God is not going to stop being God.

I realized that I am once again in a different place.  While I was scared that maybe I was just learning stuff and not feeling an emotional connection, I realized that that learning went deeper. That it had begun to change me and to influence my relationships with God—I just hadn’t realized it yet.

And so right now I am resting in the knowledge that God sees.  That He knows me and sees me, and that even if He doesn’t stop the uncertainty, He is still unchanging. 

While taking up the offering at church on Sunday, the pianist was playing “It is Well.”  I feel like the first verse of that song perfectly speaks to where I am at right now.

When peace like a river attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll,

Whatever my lot,

Thou hast taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul

As Easter approaches, it is my hope to remember that this same Saviour who died for me, who loved me, who carried all of my crap on His shoulders, still sees me today.

And it is in that knowledge that I take peace.

Post #38: Uncertainty Leading to March Break

I haven't written in a long time.  Mainly that's just because like has been busy (I was filling in for an extra class, supply teaching, and then asked to finish off the maternity leave that I started last year).

I have wanted to write.

The ideas have been there.

I sat down on two separate occasions to write and both times walked away, deleting those drafts.

But today I feel not that I want to write.  Today I need to write.

Our weather has been funny here this winter.  We will have a week of mild temperatures and then a week of snow (we finally got a snow day last week... which was ridiculous because there was almost no snow).  This week has been warm and feels like spring.  After being couped up I could finally get out.  I leave work, come home, and go for a run.  It has been a nice routine to get back into.

Today's run felt cooler because of the grey skies.  As I look out the window I could definitely believe that we will get the rain they are calling for.

I'm pretty sure I have shared this on my blog before, but if I haven't then know that there is a saying I feel sums up my life fairly well.

The only certainty in my life is uncertainty.

I have been so blessed with job opportunities since coming to Ontario.  The fact is, hours and positions have seemed to just fall into my lap.  And I am so thankful for this.  But it is also hard because I never know what's coming.  The problem with being a supply teacher is the feast-or-famine nature of it.  Just because I have a contract now doesn't mean I will have one when this one ends.

When I was asked to finish off the maternity leave, I was told that they didn't know if the teacher I'm filling in for would be coming back.  So while I'm only hired until the beginning of April, they wanted me to be prepared in case it went longer.

And that was all I heard about the matter.

Which was fine until now.  But now there are only two days left before March break.  And after that only two weeks until April.

Whenever I'm asked how I'm feeling about this position ending I tell people I'm doing fine with it.  God has provided thus far and I have to trust that whether I have a job or not, He is still God.

And that is true.

But I can only fend off uncertainty and fear so long as they battle against what I know to be true.  Sometimes all it takes is one little thing and I feel like I can no longer stand up.

I love the kids I'm teaching this semester.  My Grade 12 Law class is full of students I have taught before who are interested in the topic material.

My Grade 10 Applied English class is full of sweethearts who seem willing to try just about anything I ask them to do.

My Grade 9 Applied English has 16 students, 14 of which are boys.  They are unique and quirky, and they constantly keep me on my toes.  I also have my greatest ups and downs with them.

Sometimes the hard part about working with kids in the applied level classes is that you are dealing with all kinds of behaviors and such.  Which means that, depending on what's going on that day, you could have a content kid who is up for any challenge and is participating in class.  Or you could have a day where they can't control themselves and say or do things that they wouldn't normally do.

Today I had a student ask me how much longer until the other teacher comes back.  As they looked at me pointedly they made sure that I knew that they thought I wasn't a nice teacher (silly me for having boundaries and rules in class), and that they couldn't wait for me to be gone.

I know they said this to get a rise.  I also know that they can't always control what comes out of their mouth.  Which is why I never let it get to me.

But today it did.

Today I came back from my run, sat down, and just started to cry.

Because uncertainty sucks.

Because anyone who knows me knows that I invest so much in my students.  At three o'clock I can't shut my brain off and not think about them until the next day at nine.  I have always been told that what makes me the teacher I am is the rapport that I have with my students.  That is who I am.  I care.
Because no matter how much I try to be tough, I have a heart that very easily turns to mush.  And because nothing hurts me worse that words.

And I know that this too shall pass.

I know that God will continue to be God.  That no matter what my job situation is, He is still in control.  I know that no matter what happens He will continue to make me and mold me to be more like Him.  And that is good.

And I know that the next time I see this student they could very well apologize to me.  That has happened before.

But today my heart feels tender and I just want answers.

But since I probably won't get those in the timing I want, I will continue to press through.  I will remind myself of who God is and of His goodness.

And I will focus on the fact that I leave for the Dominican Republic on Friday morning.

Post #37: A Grieved Heart

I was planning on sitting down this weekend and writing a post.  I wanted to write about some of what the last couple of weeks have held, what with taking on another class among other things.  There have been some neat experiences and growth moments thanks to some podcasts, some reading, and some prayer.

But the yesterday happened.

I was sitting in a hair salon, my hair up in foils while sipping wine (yeah… the owner at my salon apparently keeps wine on hand for the clients).

And then the owner came in and told us there had been attacks in Paris.  He had heard at that point that 30 people were confirmed dead.  I felt sick.

By the time I arrived home more details had been released and my Facebook newsfeed was full or people expressing their sorrow and offering prayers for those in Paris.

I remembered the attacks on September 11 and how it felt like people everywhere were bonded together through the shock and grief and what had happened.

What I experienced today was something different though.  I witnessed a myriad of friends change their profile pictures in support of France.  I saw people reflecting on the sorrow, the hurt, and trying to cope with it all.

And I also saw posts where people compared all refugees and all Muslims to terrorists.  One that claimed that Muslims are animals who want to simply kill us all (or rule us all).

And I have felt sick all day because of it.  I have felt sick because the people I see posting or sharing these posts are people who claim the same faith as me. 

I keep thinking, How do I respond to this?

As a History major I studied 20^th century history, specifically around the middle of the century.  This means I learned about all the nations that shut their doors to Jews trying to flee Nazi Germany.  I learned about the way countries, specifically Canada, treated immigrants.  They were treated as second-class citizens (if they were lucky).  Some were placed in internment camps because people were so scared of them.  In WWII we placed the Japanese in such camps.  We confiscated their property and once they were in the camps we sold it and kept the profits.  Why?  Because Japan was on the opposite side in the war and that meant we viewed all Japanese as a threat. 

We became so scared that all people of a specific race/culture became viewed as the enemy.

And today I saw people doing the same thing.

Because of what a few terrorists did, people are willing to blame an entire people group.

And it grieves me.

On the other hand, I saw people quoting Matthew 25:35-36.  I thought I would share the whole section in the chapter that that verse comes from.

³¹ “When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. ³² All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. ³³ He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

³⁴ “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. ³⁵ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’

⁴¹ “Then he will say to those on his left, ‘Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. ⁴² For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, ⁴³ I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.’

⁴⁴ “They also will answer, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?’

⁴⁵ “He will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.’

⁴⁶ “Then they will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

Jesus wasn’t telling us to turn away those who are hurting because we are scared for our own lives.  He tells us to feed those who are hungry.  To clothe those who are naked and cold.  To invite in the strangers with nowhere to go.  To look after those who are sick.

I have said in multiples posts that the purpose of our lives is to become more like Christ.  That the “good” in Romans that God promises to work all things out for, is His purpose of us becoming more like Him.

And you know what He did?

He healed those from all walks of life (Luke 8:42-48; John 9:1-9). 

He prayed for those who hurt, persecuted, and then ultimately killed Him (Luke 23:34).

He took time to talk with those who were viewed as enemies of Him and His people (John 4:1-42; Luke 19:1-10).

Father, make me more like You.  Help me to feed, clothe, welcome, and take care of those who are in need.  For You have not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, love and a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7).

Post 36: Thankfulness

I have been want to write a post since Thanksgiving, but work really started to pick up (I have been working almost full-time hours with the extra supply teaching and tutoring on top of my one regular course that I teach), not to mention throwing parent-teacher interviews into the mix.  I have had two weekends off in a row, but on the first one I found I could not bring myself to do anything other than relax (and mark a few literary paragraphs), and on the second both Husband and I weren't feeling 100%.

Today I have a bit of time to sit down and put into writing the flurry of thoughts that have been on my mind the last few weeks.

The week leading up to Thanksgiving I found myself challenged to be thankful.  Maybe that seems cliche or silly, but I began to notice that I had a knack for dwelling on negative things.  For taking hurt where it wasn't intended. For failing to notice the beauty and the good in what was going on around me.  As Jordan and I would pray for meals or before bed, I would try to remember to thank God (and mean it), for the things He had blessed us with, and for the lives that we have.

As I look back on these few weeks, I find myself thanking God for everything that He has allowed to happen to me, because it is those things that have shaped me.  They have stretched me and molded me.  So many of them have hurt, but God has taken that which is painful to make me at least a little bit more like Him.

It has been about six years now since I allowed myself to take a break from being involved in church ministries.  I was burnt out and was hurting, and needed some time to heal.  Then, with going back to school and working, and only ever being in a place a year at a time, I allowed myself to continue not getting involved.

Over the Thanksgiving weekend I began to see how God has allowed me to settle in a community.  To begin to put down roots.  He also drew my attention to the fact that being a part of a community means just that: being a part.

I don't know if anything scares me more than getting involved in churches (okay, Parent-Teacher interviews probably scare me more if I'm going to be honest).  But at the "prodding" of a friend (she mentioned my name and then "encouraged" me to see how I would fit), I have signed up to help out with Gems.  This is a girls' club our church does for girls in grades 4-8.  I get to work with the grade 8 girls.  And while I have not been able to make all of the meetings yet because of commitments with work, it really has felt good to get involved.  Last Sunday we slid into our pew and one of my girls was sitting behind us.  It felt strangely "homelike" to be able to tease her and talk to her.

On Tuesday I then received an email asking me if I would be willing to play piano occasionally for the early morning services our church is going to be starting at the end of November.  I have played on worship teams before, but I'm not a particularly talented pianist.  I chord.  What I play comes from my heart and is my own offering of worship to God, but I don't play melodies, and definitely don't play like the pianists in our church.  I explained this.  Explained that it might be more difficult for people to follow me because of this (we don't always have someone who actually leads the singing).  What I got in response was a "Great!  I will make sure that myself and some other singers are always signed up to sing with you!"

In many ways, God has had to twist my arm to get me involved.  After spending every free moment involved in church ministries, I have been very guarded of my time.  I am scared of running into that extreme again.

But God has also been gracious.  My time is not overloaded.  One night a week, and the occasional Sunday morning is really not that much to give up.

I'm scared.  I'm insecure.  And with every fiber of my being I want to run and hide.

But I also feel like I am starting to belong.  Like this city and this church, this community that I belong to, is my home.

And for this I'm thankful.

On Tuesday afternoon my principal sent me an email asking me if we could meet Wednesday morning.  As I popped in yesterday, he asked me if I would be willing to take over teaching our school's Families class while its teacher takes six weeks off for surgery.  I said yes.

I start teaching it Monday (which means that while all the other teachers are at their conference today and tomorrow, I get to stay home, drink cocoa, and plan how to talk to my students about gender roles in marriage).

If I had my way I would be teaching full-time, and would know that my position was secure.

I don't have that.

But that's okay.

On Thanksgiving Monday we sang "10,000 Reasons" by Matt Redman.  I can remember singing that song a lot in the months leading up to my move from BC to Ontario.  The one portion that sticks out to me says:

Whatever may pass
And whatever lies before me
Let me be singing
When the evening comes

No matter what has happened or what will happen, God is still God.  He is still on throne.  And I want to be able to spend my days praising Him for who He is and what He has done.

I want to be thankful in EVERYTHING, not just the things that go my way.

Post 35: Beautiful Things

Here we are, heading into the second week of school.

First off, let me say that I love my job :)  There is something about having my own class that I get to spend a whole semester with that really changes things.  And it is fun because I have been at this school for a year now, so the students know me.  Monday on my way back from the photocopier I stopped by one grade 12 girl who was at a computer.  She goes to our church, so I just asked her what she was up to.  This very quiet and shy young woman just started talking to me about her thoughts and plans for the future.

It was exciting.

And it was a reminder for me of why I got into this whole teaching gig.

I want children and youth to know that someone cares about them.  I love getting to teach and use pop culture to help explain things like plot, conflict, and characterization (or stories about my death to show point of view).  But I really love getting to be a part of my kids' lives.  To show them Jesus as best as I can.  And to let them know that they are valued and cared for.  (And typically when they feel this way, they tend to work a bit harder on their assignments... go figure).

So even though I'm only two days into the second week, it has been two days of feeling like I'm truly walking in my calling.

And that is a good place to be in.

I had a conversation with one of my close friends last night, and right now I find myself mulling over a question she asked me.

She said, "What's been on your mind lately?"

First off, I always get scared when I feel like people are asking me "deep" questions.  I have always been convinced that my answers will fall short of their needed "depth."  But I answered her honestly.

Lately I have been thinking that I feel like I am starting to belong.  That this is becoming home for me.  Both Jordan and I have talked a few times that the last year has been an interesting one.  It many ways it has felt like both of us have had to start all over again.  And in the last month or so it has felt like we have been making connections.  We had friends over for dinner and games a couple of weeks ago.  We got invited to their place.  I had some friends over for wine and croquettes last week.  Jordan has become a deacon at church, and there is talk of seeing if I will replace one of our friends who is moving away on the church's Fellowship Committee.

My job is only part time, but I definitely feel as if I am connecting more with the staff this year.  I was sent home sick from our Grade 9 Day on Friday (and spent most of the weekend in bed sleeping and watching Downton Abbey), and on Monday and Tuesday I had so many of my co-workers ask me how I was feeling and checking in on me.

With being in school I have spent the last seven or so years in transition.  It feels really good to set down roots and now to begin to see something springing  up from those roots.

Which makes me think of a song we sang at one of our PD Days at the beginning of September.  It was the song "Beautiful Things."  I want to share it with you.

All this pain
I wonder if I'll ever find my way?
I wonder if my life could really change at all?
All this earth
Could all that is lost ever be found?
Could a garden come up from this ground at all?

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

All around
Hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

Oh, you make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of the dust
You make beautiful things
You make beautiful things out of us

You make me new, You are making me new
You make me new, You are making me new
Making me new

Now I look at this song and I think of the journey I have been on.  And I look at how through all of the pain, the joy, the insecurity, the uncertainty, and the laughter, God has been making something beautiful.  Something good.  Something that is (albeit slowly) trying to become more like Him.

And then I thought about the two women on either side of me who were singing with me.  To my right was a woman who had just announced to the staff that she was pregnant with her first child. This teacher was one of those who has always tried to make me feel welcome, and it was infectious to watch her joy.

On my left was a woman who is infertile.  After trying a vast assortment of treatments for several years, her and her husband had to make the decision to stop.  This woman has gone out of her way to talk to me.  To befriend me.  She has been somebody who has vented to me and who will let me vent to her. She has offered advice when I needed it on a variety of those topics.

And both women were beautiful.  Each has had their own journeys.  Their own hurts, triumphs, defeats, and joys.  And despite their different journeys, God has used them both to impact others.  Despite what they have gone through, they have allowed God to make them into something beautiful.  Something good.  Something more like Him.

I feel like I could just go on.  I have been reading some Tim Keller and listening to some Matt Chandler and at this moment in time I feel like I could burst with all the thoughts that are going on inside of me. But I'm going to leave it at that.

Sometimes the ugly and unthinkable happen.  But I believe that my God does make good things out of that.  That through the ugly and unthinkable, He makes us greater image bearers of Himself.  That He makes us more like Him.

That He makes us beautiful.