Thankful

Play practice was torture tonight. Of course, kids did not have their lines memorized, every mistake (and there were many) warranted much laughter, imitation jokes, and side conversations among the kids, and all I wanted to do was come home. I finally get home, change into jeans, boil some pasta, and turn on CNN; I then watch a report of firefighters, exhausted, emotionally weary, and worried about their own homes and families, fighting a fire (one of many) in New Orleans. The fire hydrants don't work, so they have to find ways to pump the water flooding the streets. Their own homes are destroyed; I wonder where the relief workers do go at the end of the day. I wonder where their families are and when they will see them again. I'm still tired. I'm still glad to be home. But, wow, today was a faraway dream in the minds of too many people today, everyday.

something large

"I'm so tired of little gods while standing on the edge of something large..." - David Crowder

My friend serves a big God. She's taking advantage of an opportunity right now to serve the homeless, actually talk to them, serve them, and see them and treat them as Christ would. The person who opened up this opportunity to her serves a big God too. I don't know through what circumstances he has developed such a passion, but he is using his vacation time to walk the streets of cities just to understand that way of life so many of us would rather just pretend doesn't exist.

I remember a prayer I prayed a little over three years ago. I prayed that my dreams would not be limited to my own desires, but that they would take on the expanse of God's own heart. I prayed that in the context of a relationship I was in at the time, but, today with no relationship in sight, I pray that still. I want to walk away from my comfort zone, feel the tightening of my chest as I watch the safe and familiar grow smaller and smaller to the vanishing point. I want to be more mindful of lack of faith and I am of failure. I want my mind to be on the eternal and not on the temporary.

I have to admit that as I was talking to my friend tonight I felt a little bit jealous. Her life just seems so exciting right now while mine seems, well, kind of like making it from day to day. But, it's time to take inventory and re-evaluate my life that I somehow think is so...well, ordinary.

1. I moved here all alone two years ago. I didn't know a single person here except my landlord.
2. I have managed to teach, the first year of which is notoriously the worst year of any teacher's life (and, in my case, it was) while living here alone.
3. I have students who love me and are really glad I was their teacher.
4. I have had to find a church on my own, and I have.
5. I somehow managed to direct a contest play all by myself last year, and I even drove moving truck to competition.
6. I was there for a friend when her marriage was falling apart.
7. I was there for my family when my grandpa had died.
8. I fought through illness and still have perservered with a sense of humor about it.

I guess this is just kind of a pep-talk for myself. And, looking back at that list, I know it was only by faith that I was able to do any of those things. And, where my faith was lacking, grace was plentiful, and I survived, even grew, and am growing still. I don't know if I am living more on my desires or on God's heart these days, but I pray I'm making progress. Sometimes I feel like I'm just treading water, but when I think about it, I marvel that I've been able keep my head above water for this long. On my own strength, I would have sunk long ago. So, it could be that the great acts of faith involve me getting up tomorrow morning, trusting that God has me in these kids' lives for a reason, and give all I have to them as to the Lord. I want to be faithful to act in the big things though. Just in case. If God ever wants me to walk on water, I don't want miss the opportunity. If anyone ever calls me up to hang out with the homeless, I don't want to shrink away. So God, drag me out of my comfort zone, and please pry my fingers off of my treasured familiar if I put up a fight. But, in Your will and Your timing. And may I see Your power in the everyday.

Heroes

To the two ladies who came down to my classroom in the drama "cave" the other day for the sole purpose of giving me a hug, I just want to say thank you. I can't express how much that meant to me, and though I know I was too surprised and awkward to even show it, I am so, so grateful for the two of you.

Respite

My classroom is weighing pretty heavily on my heart right now. I want it to be a safe place for the kids, a place where they feel valued and treasured, a place where they know they have worth and deserve respect. I want that so much for my kids, and I know I have failed to make that reality for kids in the past. 14-year-olds - they sometimes laugh at inappropriate things and occasionally don't consider feelings as much as they should. Or at least it seems like it at times. I don't always notice when someone gets hurt in the process, and therefore I don't hold those responsible for the hurting accountable. I want my classroom to be a safe place; it is my prayer that it would be. It is my prayer that in that room, if only in that room, those kids would know that they have so much value, so much worth, so much to be protected and fought for. I want that so much for these kids. Father God, I pray that would happen.

Today

"But as for me, it is good to be near God..."

"doing all things..."

I cried all of the way home from church today. The tears started coming right as I was getting onto 270 and had escalated into sobs by the time I passed Lemay Ferry. I’m not sure from where these emotions are coming. Whether it is the start of school tomorrow and the knowledge that it is going to be a long time before I will get to travel to see anyone again or just the continuing of the frustration over feeling at home in a church, I don’t know. It’s probably a little bit of everything.

I put up quite a front, pretending like everything is alright, reciting all the words I know as the proper and godly things to say. But, let’s face it – I’m lonely. I’m extremely confused about the Church, Christ’s bride, God’s delight. I’ve been faithful and steady in one small group throughout the past year and a half, but I’ve switched churches in that time and am now again considering going back to where I started. I feel a certain guilt for my lack commitment to the church I currently attend, and I fear becoming known as a church-hopper. I know it should not be a matter of what the church can do for me but what I can do for the church, but, honestly, I was able to serve much for effectively in my previous fellowship. I made a mistake in leaving that church in the first place. I left because of loneliness, and, a year later, I find that I am still lonely. But now what am I to do? Now that I’m a member of the other church, do I go back to my original family, or do I plow through the distance and the obstacles of serving where I am now?

School starts tomorrow, for which I am glad, for it is why I am living down here, but my stomach collapses at the thought of not seeing anyone from my pre-MetroEast life for awhile. Summer has been grand this year. Full of laughter and tears, catching up with old friends and making new friends, people dear to me making vows of commitment to the men of their dreams, renewing ties with family and becoming more thankful for those ever-strong ties. It’s been a grand summer. But I think it just hit me that it’s going to be a long time before I see any of those people again. All I wanted this morning was to see Melissa or Melissa or Kristen or Kristin or Kristi or Liz and run up and tackle them with a hug. It’s just one of those little things that aren’t appreciated until they’re gone. I’ve never really considered myself one of the “touchy-feely” types, but, oh my goodness, when not a single person even touches you on the shoulder for one or two months at a time, it grows lonely inside.

But I am okay. And I’m not just saying that to put up my “Of course I’m doing wonderful because I have Jesus” front. I’m saying that because I know that although my emotions are having my way with me right now and that it is certain that things are not ideal, I expect God to provide like He has provided in the past. It hurts like crazy today, and I won’t pretend that it doesn’t, but God will provide the way through it. My first year of teaching God provided Anna, a foreign language teacher just across the hallway from me, whose extreme extroversion and social nature were exactly what my introverted heart needed at that time. There was Linsay and Rebekah one rainy October night, who still don’t know the impact their encouraging words had on me that evening. There has been Ananda and the girls, wonderful Jane, and the faithfulness of friends across distance. God has been faithful in my own life, and, if I run out of stories there, the stories of friends and friends of friends could encourage me throughout the dark hours of the night. And, of course, there are the stories of David and Moses and Elijah and the man born blind and Paul and Peter and so many others, who could testify with tears and joy of the indescribable faithfulness of God. So, I guess there is where my heart finds rest. I can stop striving so much, worrying so much, engaging in futile analyzing so much. God is here, with me, fully aware of my needs, more so than I can comprehend. God, I long for a community growing on your spirit – I long for the deepest kind of friends. I pray you will lead me and provide me in your wisdom and time.

I kept the dress

I had a dream last night that I was getting married (sorry, you curious people, once I woke up I had no idea who the groom was). That day that I had feared would never come had in its slow manner swiftly arrived, I had the dress on, the make up was set, and the big moment was only a little more than an hour away. As I was looking in the mirror at my primped and polished self, though, images of the future filled the space in front of me. Dreams and desire, heartful prayer and resulting passions took ahold of me as I thought about the man who was in a few hours to be my husband. He wasn't a bad guy, but I knew my life wouldn't be what it could be if I married him. I had a sense that ruthless trust, reckless love, and radical faith would fade under the intense rays of the need to play it safe and plan according to our own, not God's, potential. I feared this man would encourage me to seek out safe, cozy corners instead of the deep waters only faith can overcome. The trembling of my hands combined with nauseating vertigo has more than once resulted in me clinging to the edge, refusing to let go of what I know to be safe. It's my deepest desire yet most agonizing fear to follow Christ with abandon, throwing myself into situations that I know that I cannot possibly handle with my own strength. If I am to share my life with someone, that must be his deepest desire as well. I couldn't marry that man.

I didn't do it. Though the dress was so beautiful, guests were already starting to arrive, and so much money had been poured into that day - not to mention the the poor jilted groom, I didn't do it. I changed into wind pants and a sweatshirt, walked downstairs, and my dad looked at me and knew. There still was a party, although I didn't feel too much like taking part. I cleaned and organized something while the nextdoor boys I grew up with kept me company.

This is my favorite part of the dream, though. I kept the dress. I put it on a hanger, zipped up the protective jacket, and put it in my closet, confident that I would take it out again someday. Just because this groom and I weren't right for each other didn't mean no one would be right. Getting married doesn't have to mean an end to an adventure with God. So I chose to wait for the one who would lead me over the edge instead of cower away from it, the one who would focus on God's strength, not his own...and I kept the dress.

Just for Fun

Yes, and you better believe the music was as captivating as I looked.

Broken

Okay, I think I may have hurt someone, but I don't know if I hurt them or not. The thing is, I attacked a position that this person holds, not to their face, but behind their back. I didn't mention their name or any clue to their identity at all, but, they may have found out about it anyway. So, not knowing if they know, I don't know what to do. I can go to them and apologize to them for something that they don't even know about, and therefore end up hurting them by telling them they did something that angered me, not in a personal kind of way, but in a "Jessie knows what's best for society" kind of way. Or, I can just let it go and hope the person confronts me about it. If the person knows and doesn't confront me about it, they either 1.) forgive me and have completely let it go; 2.) forgive me but still are very hurt and in need of an apology from me but are afraid to confront me; 3.) won't ever speak to me again.

I'm not going to say anything, just in case they don't know. I might feel better afterwards, but it would probably hurt them. I pray that if they do know, they will confront me about it. If so, I do owe them a very, very big apology.

I hate it when I hurt people. And it scares me that I might do it all the time without even realizing it. I am in front of 120 kids every single day. How many of them do I end up hurting by the end of the semester? It's so easy to do. I'm having a bad day, I'm under stress, everyone is asking me questions at once, and then one kid who never causes any problems at all just happens to ask the question that is the last straw, and I answer directly but curtly, my tone of voice making it clear that at that moment, I am irritated and annoyed. Some kids shrug it off like it is nothing. Other kids take that message and hold it in their hearts. The arrows spoken of in The Sacred Romance. How many of those arrows have I myself shot? I know what it is to be hypersensitive and easily hurt; how in the world can I string the same arrows that pierced me?

I am just learning to confront friends when I am really hurt and believe that the other person played a role. I hope that those I hurt will confront me as well. I'd rather know than be blissfully ignorant. Okay, you don't have to tell me every single thing I've done wrong. But, really, if I have a giant plank sticking out of my eye, and I manage to knock you to the ground with it when I turn around, let me know. I'd rather preserve the friendship, the working relationship, or the family love than have people walking around with wounds I have caused while I just puncture the hearts of others.

Even if I gain the forgiveness of all who I have hurt, I realize I may have lost forever a special place inside their hearts, which they only reveal to those whom they trust. It's a consequence, and it is a tragedy. Thank God for His mercy and grace.

Stories

Right now I'm watching One Tree Hill, mainly with the idea of understanding my students better by watching one of their favorite shows. From what I can tell, it's a WB teenage soap opera, about as far away from reality as daytime soap operas are from real adult lives. No one on the show is a virgin unless they are either extremely awkward or puritanical. They all look perfect, from clothes to hair to makeup, and I suppose it is no coincidence that they all look twenty-five instead of sixteen/seventeen. Everything is just so, so heavy.

Okay, so this is the only episode I've watched. And I know that all teenage kids have their problems, even those from wealthy families, even those who are popular and blessed with beauty. I'm just wondering what the appeal is for my high school students. Is it the problems they are experiencing? Is it how the show deals with the confusion about love and lust and emotion and commitment? Is it about the hope that everything that is missing in their lives can be found in that one special person and the disappointment that happens when they find that is not true?

It's startling to think that this show might actually be a reflection of the reality of which I am blissfully and naively unaware. However, for the most part, I don't think that is true. I think the kids enjoy the show because it is not reality. Going to high school with beautiful people, not so much to deal with classes, but to experience the glamorous drama of it all is appealing to kids. It's appealing to adults. However, I wish those shows didn't have the ratings that they do; I hope kids don't think they're missing out on something because they don't look twenty-five, aren't wealthy, and haven't had sex. Wanting your life to be like a television show is no way to live; anyone who knows an adult who lives that way would say the same thing.

Maybe this is all a part of a bigger question of the purpose of stories in our lives. For what purpose do we watch television, rent movies, enjoy narrative songs, and read fiction and biographical books? Why do we tell stories from the past? I remember a friend of mine from college would often say he would rather live his life than watch it in a movie. I agree with him, but think entertainment, especially entertainment in the form of stories, has a purpose. The telling of stories is an essential, life-enriching part of all cultures and life-styles. The thing is, I think we would be happier if we sought and told stories as a way to enrich our lives instead of escape from them. If the show or the movie does not enrich my life, but rather takes me away from my life, I probably shouldn't watch it. Maybe that's where the line should be drawn.

Remind me of this in late October

It's time to go back to work. I'm having a great summer, but until I have something to take a break from, these days off just aren't as gratifying as they could be. Now, there are advantages. For instance, I am available and attentive to a full night of Gilmore Girls tonight. But, I've lost the ability to enjoy doing nothing. Today I was sick. I took a short nap on the bathroom floor, crawled into the kitchen for crackers, and sipped chamomile tea and Gatorade all day. I never enjoy getting sick, but sometimes not being able to move is a nice change of pace and enables me to rest and reengergize in ways I would not allow myself otherwise. However, today the nausea and lightheadedness was just a big waste of time. I was not able to anything but nothing, and it was just more of the normal instead of an excuse to relax. I hated it instead of appreciated it. I miss being pushed and in need of a day off.