Mean People Suck

This weekend two very selfish people broke my sister's heart. Her ex-boyfriend Jason betrayed her by having a girlfriend on the side, and Kev's best friend somehow made the situation all about her and shut Kevyn down. After traveling to Phoenix to spend the weekend with a discouraged and disheartened Kevyn, all I could think is that "mean people suck". Kevyn is a very loyal and selfless friend, which are such honorable qualities in a companion, and unfortunately the people around her returned her love with selfishness. I do not want to make this situation about me because it's not, it's about my broken-hearted sister, but I know what Kevyn is going through.

One of the most awful parts about walking this sinful earth is that we are bound to be wounded. The imperfect beings that we are surrounded by are just as selfish as we are. And even when we seek to be honoring and loving to those around us, we each fall short. As I have mentioned before, it is so easy to make things about ourselves because we live in our own head 24/7 and our own emotions and thoughts are so real to us. Often we forget or fail to see what matters most is caring about others, stepping outside of ourselves and taking care of those in need.

Kevyn was deeply wounded by the selfishness of others this weekend. It left her with a sense of hopelessness and weariness. Her pain so shielded her eyes from good that she wondered what joy there would be in returning to everyday tasks. What a toll that takes on her soul and on the souls of those who care for Kevyn.

The amazing gift for those outside of the situation is that we are able to see that God has a plan. In the midst of pain and sorrow, I believe it's sometimes too difficult for anyone in the experience to see, including Kevyn. But I do believe that Jesus is using these mean people to continue to cultivate a faithfulness and loyalty in my sister that will make her an even better friend to those who come along. Kevyn's unique experiences allow her to walk alongside so many others that the rest of us can't even begin to relate to. My sister has a gift and Jesus is just honing that gift.

In this book I've been reading (The Bait of Satan...to name drop one more time), the author says that the sign of true maturity is when we withstand offense and allow it to strengthen us. In the imperfections of others, God wants to cultivate a truer you. It is in the living through, the dealing with and the mending of the offense that God reveals more of Himself in us. "Love forgets wrongs so that there is hope for the future." I pray Kevyn will find this hope because I know she has so much to live for and Jesus has so much in store for her life.

So while "mean people suck", and they truly do, it would be a shame to let the "mean people suck" the life and hope out of us. That gives them too much power; it allows them to win. Thus I hope that as Jesus continues to comfort Kevyn and lift her out of sorrow that she would have eyes to see the hope, the love that can be wrought out of mean people. The hope lies not in those people who have hurt her, but in herself and the gorgeous creation God is making her to be.

Oh I Love a Rainy Night

If any of you have been paying attention to Tucson weather, you know we've had thunderstorms and rain almost every day this week. While others are frustrated and stuck in their cars in a wash somewhere, I fling open the blinds, grab a good book and listen and watch the rain. Every since I was a kid I have loved the rain. My Memere still talks about when I used to visit her house in Illinois and sit outside on the front porch swing to watch the rain. Something about my nature is drawn to this amazing aspect of nature!

Because of this I can't fully blame my students for asking me to go play in the rain on the second day of school! It began to pour and they begged to trounce outside and get all wet and muddy. While I gave them a dirty look and disdained the thought of letting my students run amok, I did understand the intense desire to immerse themselves in the beauty and the glorious smell because I had that desire as well.

The smell of rain is intoxicating to me! If I walk outside and it smells like "dirt" (or creosote for those smarty pants who actually know where the smell originates) I get giddy, like a student on the last day of school! I can't wait to stand outside with my mouth open wide, and I couldn't care if the sun would never shine. This blessed smell and the presence of rain this week has been an awesome reminder of God's blessing.

Many songs and thereby verses in the Bible refer to God's love raining down on us, and to me that is a powerful image. As rain pours from the sky and drenches my skin, so can the Lord's blessings drench my soul if I allow. I'm want to allow Him to cover me, to rain down His love. His physical reminder of this important metaphor has prompted me to remember His covering this week, despite circumstances.

So despite the hole in our roof that caused a leaky ceiling these past days, I hope for more rain! I can't get enough of the amazing beauty of water pouring from the sky and lightening flashing before my eyes. What grace! What splendor! Thus I will continue to fling open my blinds, curl up with a good book and enjoy the rain.

My First Graduate

I promised you all an amazing story, and I do not want to fail you. Thus I will wait to pontificate about Harry Potter 7 (plus this way I won't spoil it for those still in the midst), and instead I will tell you the story that brought my heart back to teaching this week. (For the purpose of anonymity I will change the name of my student to Brad. Some of you may have heard pieces of this story before with the students' real name, but I feel like it's important to protect his story.)

Brad was my student last year in both my Sophomore and Junior classes. He had previously failed Sophomore English and was currently a Junior. In the first weeks, Brad and I had a bit of a battle in trying to gain footing with each other. Brad liked to speak his mind, which I love, but I didn't want it to be at the sacrifice of order or respect in my classroom. We found common ground quickly and developed a safe way for him to share ideas with his classmates.

In the first quarter I give my Sophomores the assignment of writing a narrative about a personal loss. Brad wrote me a nine page paper about how he lost his brother to abuse and then to arrest. Brad's story was very moving and I could hear his voice clearly in his writing, but it lacked in some of the other requirements of the paper. So I marked him down with a long note explaining that I appreciated his transparency. When he received his paper back he was visibly upset. But I sat down and explained to him my reasoning and we worked through the essay so he could revise it for a better grade. It was a major triumph for Brad and me.

One of the unique qualities about Brad is that he hated flies, I mean hated them. He couldn't stand being in their presence. Being out in Vail, we had many flies in our classroom, and Brad couldn't help but swat them down and kill them. He wouldn't just do this if they were in his vicinity, he would do it if they were even on his radar. The first time I was observed and this took place, I tried to "take control" of the situation and yelled for Brad to stop. He was so disheartened that I had yelled at him, he wouldn't speak the rest of class. It was at this point I realized that I had to be the teacher I needed to be no matter how it looked to the outside observer. I apologized to Brad, and we agreed to communicate more clearly our expectations of each other.

The next time I was observed I was specifically praised for how I interacted with Brad. Even though unorthodox my assistant principal saw my interactions with Brad as a great breakthrough for this student. I was so uplifted by the conversation and reassured in believing that I was going to have a hand in helping Brad succeed. Just five hours later, Brad made an extremely poor decision that resulted in his long term suspension from my school. I was broken hearted. I cried and couldn't help but think that I had lost this battle. When I talked with Brad he seemed to believe this was the end of his educational experience, and I made great attempts to find a way for him to continue. My personal attempts failed, and I heard nothing from Brad for the next 7 months.

Tuesday afternoon my assistant principal paged me over the loud speaker. I called him and he intimated that there was a visitor heading my way. As soon as Brad opened the door, face glowing, smile spread across his face, I knew he was proud to share something with me. We hugged and when we pulled apart he slowly opened a black folder that was in his right hand. Inside was a diploma from an alternative school! Not only had Brad finished his high school education but he had finished it a year early! Tears welled in his eyes and mine as he told me that he graduated on June 9th, the first person in his family to walk across a stage and receive a diploma. He grinned as he told me how he danced in his cap and gown as he crossed the stage. His pride beamed from every corner of his being as he sought my reassurance that he had done well. All I could muster was "I'm SO proud of you" and it tumbled out of my mouth about every minute.

He told me of his plans to join the Navy, of his ability to conquer his debilitating addiction in order to enlist. He asked if I'd write him a recommendation, waiting with bated breath for my answer. "Of course!" I exclaimed! There is no greater honor than to write that letter! Then we both teared again as it dawned on me that Brad is my first ever graduate! This year would have been the first for my students to walk across a stage, but Brad got to do it first! He gave me a copy of his diploma, and I now proudly display it on my wall. What a cool distinction for me and for him!

I spent twenty minutes with Brad, but it was a life altering moment. As he left, I told him to remember, even when his drill sergeants are yelling in his face, that I'm proud of him and nothing will ever change that. Nothing will. He rose from difficult circumstances and made something great of his life, and I played a small role in that triumph. For that I am eternally grateful. To bear witness of a young life finding meaning in this world makes my job amazing. I feel privileged to work with kids like Brad, to be a voice reminding them of their worth. What a blessing! I have no more words to describe my emotions right now except to say that I have an awesome job, and God has given me these students to change my life. I am blessed.

First Day of School

Greetings all! I have an amazing story from this week to tell, but it requires more detail than I have time for at the moment. So for now I'll stick to the topic at hand, the first day of school.

Despite my overwhelmedness at the arrival of this week and my severe amounts of stress in regards to this school year, I am really excited today! For the first time in my teaching career I'm excited, instead of nervous, to have the kids show up today. I'm excited to see their smiling faces. I'm excited to begin a new year. I'm excited to delve into new topics and ideas with these kids! I actually slept well last night (only one schoolmare regarding not having rosters printed) and feel ready to face today.

I think all of this is a testament to those of you who prayed for me this week! Thank you to those you petitioned before the throne on my behalf. God has an amazing way of bringing peace and hope when we least expect it and when we need it most. I feel incredibly blessed to enter into this day with overwhelming peace!

So in the words of Tom Hanks, "Don't you love New York in the fall? It makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of newly sharpened pencils if I new your name and address..." I would send you all bouquets of sharpened pencils to share my excitement in the coming of this day! So sniff some tape in honor of me and I'll be back to tell you how it goes! :-) Yay the first day of school! (Does someone want to come take my picture outside my classroom door?!?)

Farewell Freedom

That title seems a bit extreme, but truly what it means is that I am bidding farewell to the ability to choose how to spend my time. No more meandering through novels for a whole afternoon, no more sitting on the couch talking with Melinda for endless hours, no more watching absurd TV just because I have the chance. Honestly, these aren't all gone, they will just be less present in my life than they were the last five weeks. And it's not all bad. When left to my own devices I can often get down bunny trails that aren't healthy.

So here I arrive at the first day back to school. I have a cold, I'm extremely tired, I haven't done anything remotely near the looks of preparation, and yet I drive myself to Empire this morning. As most teachers will tell you, this isn't the end of the world. It'll all somehow fall into place before students shuffle in on Friday morning. Somehow I'll eek out a doable syllabus. Somehow I'll know exactly what my AP students will be reading this year and somehow I'll get my powerpoints together so that I can explain my expectations on the first day. It'll happen, and the kids will be none the wiser that I have crammed it all into these next four days.

Lucky for me, I have a none school related event to look forward to with such anticipation that it just might get me through this week. On Saturday, well to be exact on Friday at midnight, Harry Potter 7 will hit bookstores and grace us with the long awaited finale to Harry's journey through the wizarding world. After rereading book 6 last week, I wait with bated breath to see how Harry will navigate through his past without Dumbledore to find Voldemort's horcruxes. Will Harry die? Will he ultimately defeat the Dark Lord? These questions I look forward to exploring all of next weekend.

So with that object fixed in my mind, I will somehow survive this week. I will somehow accomplish all that is necessary to start another school year. I will somehow find a smile to put on my face as my students walk through the door to room 306 on Friday. Thus if you wonder why I've fallen off the face of this earth for a while, now you know that I'm somehow trying to peacefully bid farewell to freedom and somehow remember my joy in teaching. It's there, I just have to somehow be reminded.

Miss Jane Austen

On the recommendations of one Aaron Mertz I picked up Jane Austen's "Emma" to while away my summer hours and thoroughly amuse myself in the the charming wit of Ms. Austen's writing. Although I disagree with Aaron that "Emma" is the superior Austen work, I can easily see why he enjoys it so.

The marvel of Jane Austen's writing is her ability to craft such lively characters that it is difficult to not expect their arrival on my doorstep at any minute. In "Pride and Prejudice" one cannot help but be annoyed by Elizabeth's mother and appeased by her father. The reader cannot help but be appalled when Mrs. Bennett feels obliged to make a fool of herself by speaking ill of others and in high praise of her unwed daughters at the ball. Jane did not fail me once again in the creation of divine characters in "Emma".

Part of why I consider this the inferior novel (and perhaps why Aaron considers it superior) is because Emma is such a vexing heroine. She thinks far too highly of herself and makes rather harsh judgments of others without much thought. Her primary targets of unfair judgment are Jane Fairfax and Miss Bates, both less well off than Emma, and both with their own peculiarities. Miss Bates' character is written so well that one cannot help but be irritated with her motormouthed character who cannot even stop to take a breath. Her soliloquies, as they can be deemed seeing as no one gets a word in edgewise, are so verbose and full of frivolities that I can't help but feel like I'm sitting on her couch wishing her to shut up in my own head! While Emma has much cause to be annoyed with Miss Bates, her intolerance for characters unlike herself is rather unbecoming.

Perhaps this is why Emma Woodhouse and I aren't as close as Elizabeth Bennett and I are wont to be. Emma may be to close to my character at this particular moment in my life. I have been feeling very often that I've granted unfair intolerance towards those around me. Whereas, Elizabeth is wont to trust the word of individuals that aren't necessarily trustworthy. I find that less of an abhorrent flaw. But both heroines are flawed and I find that I might relate to one more than the other depending on my current state of being in life. No matter, both characters are vividly written and both male counterparts are worthy of falling in love with.

Mr. Darcy of "Pride and Prejudice" is honorable and kind. Although he appears cold at first, he truly is kind hearted. Circumstances have led him to be more reserved, but when Elizabeth breaks his thick shell, there is no more beautiful a moment than when he confesses his love to her in the parsonage! Ah, and then we have the well meaning Mr. Knightly who is so in love with Emma that he is willing to risk his love for her to make sure that she grows into the woman he knows she is capable of. He places her character above his selfish desires and a beautiful love story unfolds. I must admit that I have far more a soft spot for the friendship developed into romance ("Emma") than I am for the unlikely match between fated lovers ("Pride and Prejudice"). Either way, how can one not fall in love with these leading men!?

All there is left to say is, thank you Jane Austen! Thank you for inviting me into a world so vivid I do not even want for imagination. Thank you for using your words to craft characters who reach the core of my being. Thank you for creating books designed to be timeless. You are a gift to readers and especially a gift to me. I look forward to being lost in your worlds many times over! And special thanks to my mother who was the first to invite me into Elizabeth Bennett's world. Without you I might have missed out on one of life's great joys! And finally, thanks to Aaron for reminding me to search farther into the many worlds of Miss Austen. I feel that I have opened a flood gate of enjoyment for years to come!

Remembering Aunt Kelly

Today is Aunt Kelly's birthday. The day before we celebrate our country's freedom, we celebrate her. She loved celebrating our country, she loved anything patriotic. My mom received this email yesterday and I want to quote it here because I feel that it is so well spoken.

"It's her day... the first of many firsts when she is missing, missed. As Edna Millay said, 'The presence of her absence is everywhere.' So even though you are doing your best to pass through this day, distracting yourself with necessary tasks and businesslike conversations, know that I am remembering you...and Kelly. Just think...what a party she must be having today! And somehow, I rather think that she will be thinking of you, aware of your grief, hoping you will find a "Disneyland" moment to lift your heart and focus on a happier time. It is, after all, her day. And she is certainly worth celebrating.

Lord, please pass on our birthday song!"

There are certainly plenty of things to keep me busy today, but there are also plenty of things to remind me of Aunt Kelly. Let me share with you some of the things I've pondered doing or am doing today in her honor.

1) Jumping in the car right after Herb gets off work and driving to Disneyland. It's last minute and it's fun, just like Aunt Kelly!
2) Watching, singing and dancing with Goofy Movie. Some of my favorite memories are driving in her car singing "If we listen to each other's hearts we'll find we're never too far apart..."
3) Wearing an American flag t-shirt. I couldn't help but scan the patriotic garb at church Sunday and think of all the red, white and blue Aunt Kelly so proudly displayed.
4) Watch an episode of Gilmore Girls. She shared that love with Megan, and with many other girls in our family.
5) Eat some good food but avoid cream cheese! You know you are a Myers girl when you plan your day around good food!
6) To follow that up (in case I did have some cream cheese), fart without shame! Herb would argue I do that anyway, but Aunt Kelly had an art for the fart that I hope to rival. :-)
7) Watch some baseball. Aunt Kelly, like Colin, was a Dodgers fan through and through. I guess I could root for the blue just for today, but tomorrow I go back to bleeding purple.
8) Call my sister. Aunt Kelly cared so much about family, especially her sisters, and was willing to give the world for them!
9) Love a child. I've already explained her deep love for kids; I know she'd want me to love on them today and always!
10) Leave laundry piled high. Cleaning house was never a priority to Aunt Kelly, she'd rather be spending time with people. So today, I leave the house work behind.

I can't help but smile and cry as I compile this list, and I think that's how it will always be. I will remember her with great joy and laughter because that's what she brought to my life, but I will also cry because I miss her presence. But I can remember her and honor her in my actions. And my mom's friend Lauren was right, Aunt Kelly would want me to find a Disneyland moment in my day and hold on to it.

So here's to you Aunt Kelly, it isn't the first day I've missed you and it certainly won't be the last. But I celebrate who you are today, just as I would if you were still with me. I celebrate the beauty of you and your life. You are missed and you are remembered in thought and in action, today and always.

See the Beauty

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder." I agree completely with the idea that we can see the beauty in anything we so desire. This year some of my students asked me to sit in on a panel in their art class to discuss ideas about what art is and what is beautiful. As usual my students impressed me with their understanding and interpretation of life around them, and they really truly believe that beauty can be found in anyone or anything. Sometimes I wish they could find beauty in what I'm having them read, but that's a different story.

As I sat in church with Herb and his dad and stepmom yesterday (we had a wonderful visit with them) I was struck by something poignant that Glenn said in his sermon. He was touching on the fact that each pastor on staff reaches a different audience with their manner of teaching and their perspective on life and scripture. Glenn's emphasis was that Jesus is going to use different people's giftings to touch different lives. The lives I might touch might not be the same lives Melinda, or Brandy or Krista might touch in the classroom. We each have unique giftings to reach diverse individuals. This isn't necessarily new information, but it hit me in a new way yesterday, in a humbling way.

If Jesus has designed us uniquely to reach others, then why on earth do we judge or compare ourselves to others? Why don't we appreciate the different giftings around us instead of trying to make others like ourselves? Why don't we value what people bring to the table instead of criticizing the manner in which they offer their skills? Basically, I was humbled and convicted. It is so easy to believe that my perspective or opinion or way of doing things is the best because heck, it's worked for me for quite some time now. I spend a great deal of time trying to figure out why people don't do it my way or trying to figure out why my way isn't appreciated by everyone. (Wow that last sentence truly reveals my sinful nature...if you didn't know it, now you do, I'm a sinner.) I waste my time selfishly desiring people to be like me when what I really need to do is see the beauty in what God has created!

God in His infinite wisdom and love for beauty has created unique creatures, each designed for a specific purpose. He has gifted me to touch the lives of some in my circle of influence, but He's created others to do the same. How beautiful each and every one of us are for vastly different reasons! How precious are we each created to serve unique purposes in this world! I want to focus on the beauty in others, instead of judge their shortcomings because God has a purpose for their beauty despite their flaws. And the same goes for me; God has a plan for me in spite of my inadequacies.

Beauty is often found in brokenness. When we see a Phoenix rise from the ashes, or a tear stained toddler's face smile as he tries to walk again, there is beauty amidst the pain. I believe there is beauty all around us, in each person we encounter, in each image our eye takes in. But I believe God's crowning glory, the height of His beauty is in the heart of man, and man is broken. We are God's masterpiece, and even the dark lines that brush their way through our stories provide more definition and depth to the painting. "In brokenness comes beauty, divine fragility, reminding me of nail scarred hands reaching out to me." Again, the darker parts of our lives, whether they be sin or struggle, yield beautiful depth to God's creation.

In humility I admit that I haven't been seeking out beauty in each person, instead I've focused too much on the brokenness or the differences between their painting and mine. But I want to have eyes to see their glory. It is my desire to see the masterpiece, to understand the intricate lines, be them bright or dark, and to recognize the extreme value of who is in front of me. I leave you with these words from a Jars of Clay song that has been running through my head as I write this. It's from a different perspective, but I think the ideas are the same.

"See the Art in Me"
Broken stained-glass windows, the fragments ramble on
Tales of broken souls, an eternity's been won
As critics scorn the thoughts and works of mortal man
My eyes are drawn to you in awe once again

In your picture book I'm trying hard to see
Turning endless pages of this tragedy
Sculpting every move you compose a symphony
You plead to everyone, "see the art in me"