Anticipation and Faithfulness

At church last night Pastor Bryan asked us to think about the theme of our lives for 2008. After brief ponderings I came up with anticipation. Anticipation of Herb graduating, anticipation for Herb's bar results, anticipation in getting a house. The waiting is how I initially characterized my year.

But then before communion Bryan prompted us to think about how God worked in our lives in 2008. So I began to scrutinize the details of our year more closely. Here's what I came up with:

Last winter began the long haul for Herb to complete his thesis paper for graduation. Not only was he challenged to find enough research, but in the final weeks he was asked to write a second paper. We questioned and feared that he might not graduate, but he did. The Lord was faithful to walk us through the anxiety and fears of those papers and left us joyfully tearful for huge accomplishments in May.

June began the push for the bar exam. Hours of studying, practice exams full of frustration, wondering if enough time was being invested. No surety in the results of the exam. July came and went, and with prayers and much waiting October arrived with a passing score. God was faithful to walk beside us as we waited on His timing and His results.

August found me heart broken in my classroom. The book was pulled, my teaching methods and ideas were questioned, and my students were torn apart. I lost faith in myself, I wondered if I truly was called to teaching, and I pondered where I belonged. By November I was sitting in Borders Books listening to my students speak so profoundly about the book and other novels, and like a proud mama I basked in how God is faithful to make all things good.

November also brought crumbling dreams of our first bid on a house. The home we initially hoped for fell through the cracks. Heartbreak and questioning ensued again. Couldn't one thing go right? But oh how our Father was faithful to place the perfect home in our laps! How beautiful His blessing and how covered in love this home is, just in time for the holidays!

In the midst of communion last night I realized that the theme for this year may have been anticipation on my human end of things, but God's theme for my year was His faithfulness. I am constantly drawn to this characteristic of God, it's an attribute I love and adore often. Yet the wonder and beauty of His faithfulness is new every morning, every year, especially this year. And I realized that it's more than His faithfulness I see as beautiful. Each of the hardships, though seemingly ugly in the midst, created such beautiful, awe-inspiring moments in my life this year. If I didn't have to live through the brokenness, would I have fully seen the joy? If these blessings had been easily granted to me, would I have seen them as the rich blessings they are? If the journey was a straight path, would I fully see and appreciate my steady, unchanging, faithful God leading me? Probably not. 2008 was full of heart ache and joy, waiting and unveiling, questioning and faith, but it was also always full of a faithful God.

Fatal Mistakes

Yesterday I found out that one of my former students died in a motorcycle accident Friday night. He was speeding and rear ended a car so hard that his helmet flew off. It is interesting to me that in the face of this senseless death, I searched and searched for more information, more details. Why do we do that? Will it somehow bring us more peace to understand more completely, to visualize more fully? Perhaps I believed I could understand the why better if I searched just a bit harder.

I know that I won't know the answer to the why. In general I find that I am okay with that, that I can trust that the Lord has a bigger plan. But trusting the Lord's plan is certainly harder when dealing with the death of someone so young. My student was 18 years old; he had just graduated last spring. His plan was to join the coast guard; he was a great swimmer and served as a lifeguard multiple summers in a row. There were plans in place, although there always are; whether the death occurs before birth or in old age, we are always thinking about tomorrow. Perhaps it is more than the plans, it is the idea of the life not lived. I do know that my student tried to live life fully in the best way adolescents know how. The motorcycle was an attempt to embrace life, but adolescents do not know how to walk that fine line between embracing life and being reckless. It is one of the hardest parts of being a high school teacher, and I'm sure a parent of teenagers as well. We give them knowledge, wisdom, and then we have to stand by and watch them make mistakes. Watch as they throw out our wisdom or embrace it. It is trying to observe, but if they don't make their own mistakes how will they learn? It is a constant prayer that their mistakes will be meaningful but not too harmful.

Now I find myself praying more diligently for those students grieving his loss because they are still at the age where they aren't going to learn from his mistake. Those students still have to make their own. What a tiny glimpse of what God must feel as He watches us make the same mistakes we've watched others make. It is painful to love others and not intervene. Free will comes at such a high cost. But He loves us enough to give it in hopes that we will grow into amazing people who will extend love and wisdom to others and to Him.

There's really no conclusion to this post, just a sadness. I am grateful for the blessings bestowed on me; I am cherishing each moment; I am praying for those who are hurting; I am praying for students to come. May we love much and may we never fail to show it when given the opportunity.

Pizza and Sparkling Cider

Last night Herb and I met at our new house, now officially ours, and ate pizza and drank sparkling cider on the floor. The house is mostly unfurnished (except for an amazing entertainment center the previous owners left for us) and we plopped ourselves down in the living room. We spent most of the night walking around the house trying to plot out what would go where and imagining our new lives together in the home. Herb prayed and blessed this amazing gift God has given us, and we just relished the idea that we have a place, our place, all our own! What a precious time to spend just the two of us on the first night as home owners! Enjoy these pictures that mark this momentous occasion in our lives together!

The picture Herb took!

The picture I took :-)

Herb's house warming gift!

Herb lounging. That's how you know it's home!

Have you seen me?

No? Me neither. This month has resulted in my disappearance. The combination of sickness, Christmas, the end of the semester and moving has caused me to fade away. I feel badly that I am not the same level of available to people that I normally am (which is limited in the first place), but I just can't seem to float to the surface. The only person who has really seen me is Herb, which has actually been a nice opportunity for us. We have shopped together, packed together and been sick together. While that has sometimes resulted in frustration or annoyance it's mostly been a wonderful time of working together.

I have been so blessed and in awe of the way in which Herb has handled the house details. Without prompting he has taken care of details that I didn't even think of. He's called and set up utilities and insurance, arranged meetings with the realtor and the title agency, and he's handled the loan questions. I have really seen his strengths come out, his ability to manage money and understand the processes necessary for success, which has been such an amazing gift. If I had to think of and deal with these details, who knows what would have gone undone! Praise God for my amazing husband!

My hope is that once we have moved into our house, we will have the place and time to open up our lives again to others, to resurface from the craziness. I look forward to that time! Until then...I'm still here, even if I'm hard to find. I'll post pictures of my crazy life after next weekend. Hopefully you'll be able to find me in a painted house!

Homeowners!

Herb and I went house hunting again yesterday. While I was anxious about trying to find a different house, one that would rival the original house, I was excited to hopefully find a place we could call home. We looked at a house right next door to Mark and Rachael and LOVED it! It was three bedroom and very spacious with a fireplace. Herb and I were pretty convinced this was the place, but we decided to keep looking since our Realtor had made appointments in other locations.

After cruising through a few others, we found a beautiful home at Houghton and Valencia. It is four bedroom, similar footage to the one next to Mark and Rachael, and had an adorable family-friendly back yard. This house would include all of the appliances, the security system, and the swing set in the backyard. We were torn because we loved it equally with the first house. We spent lunch and the rest of the afternoon deliberating, went back to the house near Mark and Rachael, and finally decided to put an offer on the Vail house.

This morning we signed the offer papers; it is owned by very stable sellers, no short sale to be told, so we expected to hear by tomorrow afternoon. Two hours ago we received a phone call. They countered for a little more than we offered, but much within our price range, in fact the same we were hoping to pay for our original house! Plus, we don't have to buy the appliances as we would have had to with the original house! So we accepted it! We will soon be homeowners, saving any big problems! We will close December 17th and be "home" in time for Christmas! Or at least painting in time for Christmas! I'm so excited! I love it and the home is beautiful! If you'd like to check out pictures head to:

http://tarmls.com/
Click on Public Search
Listing number: 20836190

There are tons of pictures! Check them out, tell me what you think, and tell me if you have any decorating or paint color ideas! You know I need the help! Thanks for your love and support through this whole process! We'll impose on you just a little longer to help us paint and move in! Can't wait!

One of those songs...

You know how there are those songs that just uplift your spirit, quiet your heart? The words impact you in a powerful way and change your perspective on life, even if just for that moment? My senior year in high school that song was "Move or Move Me" by FFH. The cry out to God just fit my circumstance, my need in that moment. To this day I still get chills upon hearing that song.

I have a new "one of those songs." I've heard it three times in the last two days and it has spoken into my discouragement and centered my heart on the truth of who God is and who I am in Him. Sometimes I can learn new things by listening to these songs that others point out, understand where they are without them ever having to put their emotions into words. I thought maybe I'd offer the same opportunity to you all tonight. So here is my song:

Addison Road - Hope Now
From the album Addison Road

If everything comes down to love
Then just what am I afraid of?
When I call out your name
Something inside awakes in my soul
How quickly I forget I'm yours

I'm not my own
I've been carried by you
All my life

Chorus:
Everything rides on hope now
Everything rides on faith somehow
When the world has broken me down
Your love sets me free

When my life is like a storm
Rising waters, all I want is the shore
You say I'll be ok
And make it through the rain
You are my shelter from the storm

I'm not my own
I've been carried by you
All my life

Chorus:

You've become my heart's desire
And I will sing your praises higher
Cause your love sets me free
Your love sets me free
Your love sets me free

Grace and Mercy

Remember that old Newsboys song: "When you get what you don't deserve, it's a real good thing, a real good thing. When you don't get what you deserve, it's a real good thing, a real good thing"?

Last week was a practice in the art of grace and mercy for me. God was gracious and merciful to me, but even more than that I learned something about being "deserving." I like the American philosophy, it jives very well with my personality. If you work hard, you will reap the benefits. If you are patient and do the right thing, you will be rewarded. I think I've said before that I'm very driven by rewards. If I do something ahead of time, I'm rewarded with time off later. If I invest time in my relationships, I'm rewarded with strong friendships. For the most part I like my cause and effect statements, but I had a hard lesson in realizing that this isn't always how God works. The thing is when it comes to God, there's no entitlement. We don't "deserve" anything but the consequences of our sins. And by His grace, we don't get what we "deserve." My spirit is learning all of this the hard way these days. Let me explain with some examples from last week:

When we get what we don't deserve...that's how I feel about Obama being elected. I'm not sure that he deserves the title of President. I believe it is by the grace of the American people that he is where he is. I thought that my prayers for this election would be enough for me to "deserve" McCain as President. I thought that Aunt Kelly "deserved" a win for her "team" in honor of her memory. But that's not how it happened...hopefully the American public won't get what it "deserves" by electing Obama. God is sovereign after all.

When we get what we don't deserve...I was blessed with an amazing experience at Borders last Wednesday, one I didn't "deserve". Some of my students, current and former, along with staff, family and friends came to Borders to hear a brilliant man speak about the book Another Country. Not only did the speaker reveal the glorious history of this book (it was challenged by the President and reviewed by the FBI in 1962 when it was a national best seller--they deemed it of literary merit!), but he engaged the audience in a discussion of the novel. My students spoke with such confidence and poise about their thoughts on the characters, setting, plot, and symbolism; I have never been filled with such joy and so humbled by the students God graciously allows me to teach. I'm not sure I "deserved" that moment, but I was grateful for it nonetheless.

When we don't get what we deserve...we found out Thursday that we didn't get the house. After seven weeks of waiting and dreaming about our life in that house, we were told that the lender counter-offered with $35,000 more than the listing price that we placed as an offer. I am not sure what the logic was or how they thought we would pay that much more than we had originally planned, but I know that it left me brokenhearted. I feel defeated, disheartened and lost. As I was arguing with God last night (He is amazing because He lets me do just that), I told Him that I'd put Herb through law school, I'd waited to start my family, I'd worked in a job that was very demanding, I'd loved on the people around me, I'd served at church, I'd sought to grow as a believer, didn't I deserve this little piece of happiness? To which He calmly answered, No. This doesn't mean that He doesn't want good for me or that the plans He has for me aren't amazing, BUT those things won't come because I "deserve" them. I can't earn them. I can't stake claim to them because God gives and takes away according to His good plan, not because of the things I've done to earn them. That's a hard pill to swallow because it is so counter to my affinity for the American philosophy, but then again, I'm very thankful that he doesn't give me what I "deserve." Because the wages of sin is death and I'm pretty jazzed that I didn't get what I earned there. I can't have it both ways. I either get what I "deserve", what I've earned, or I don't. I don't "deserve" a house, but I believe that God will give me what I don't "deserve" in His own good time. I believe that's called hope.

Finally, when we get what we don't deserve...my momma loves me and gave me a little spending money to enjoy while in Disneyland this weekend. I'm not good at spending money on myself, it's an art I'm glad I haven't mastered. But I did well this weekend, I took the gift given to me and enjoyed it. Not only did we find joy at the happiest place on earth, but I left with some fun Christmas souvenirs. I bought myself , or rather Mom bought me, some Christmas serving platters for my Christmas goodies and a Christmas throw blanket for me to snuggle under during these next few cold months. These were blessings to me, things I didn't "deserve," but I was thankful for them nonetheless.

I've learned these past weeks that grace and mercy aren't cut and dry. They aren't as straightforward as the Newsboys touted. But that is the nature of God. He is complex and mysterious, gracious and merciful, beyond my human comprehension. I will not pretend to understand fully now, but I will consider myself blessed when He offers me what I don't "deserve."

What do you do with a Juicy suit?

If you're a Scottsdale girl, a Juicy suit is the thing for you. You can trounce around town in a $150 work out suit and still feel that you are adhering to the fashionable, couture thing. If you are me and shop and Kohl's and Target for your clothes, the purposing of such a thing becomes a little harder to come by.

First of all, any article of clothing that requires me to go without underwear becomes very low on my list of attire to don. Secondly, I have a hard time wearing something that draws attention to my rear end; it sticks out enough thank you! So when my mom so lovingly gave me a Juicy suit last Christmas because she wanted me to feel included with my sister, and I think more importantly, because she found it on clearance (my kind of mom!), I was left with one question: What do I do with a Juicy suit?

Luckily I purposed this attire on Friday night. Halloween arrived and with it the need for a costume. I had given no thought to this whatsoever, and thus was wondering if we could even attend a party that night. At work I mentioned that Herb could be a football player, and I could be a baseball player, when one of my co-workers interrupted. "One year my boyfriend and I didn't know what to be, so he threw on one of his football jersey and I teased my hair, put on a ton of make-up and wore a huge fake diamond ring. I went as his trophy wife!" Brilliant! I loved the idea! And what attire is more fitting a trophy wife than a Juicy suit! So Herb went as Jake Plummer and I went as his trophy wife. I embraced the trashy: chewing gum obnoxiously, making stupid jokes, donning my blue tooth around the house, and flaunting my ring and my thing! It was quite an enjoyable costume if you ask me.

I thought you all might relish some pictures of my Juicy suit's debut in Katie's world! Try not to laugh too hard.

A New Discovery

I've heard over and over again about the Love Languages and how understanding your Love Language is key to successful relationships. I couldn't agree more that it is so important to know how to love the people around you, rather to know how they experience love. My problem is that I have always felt like all of them applied to me but none of them fit exactly right. I do feel loved when someone does something nice for me, but it doesn't overflow me with emotion. I love getting an encouraging email from a friend, but it's not a "wow, in this moment I feel loved!" response. Gifts are great and I LOVE when they are thoughtful, but again, not quite it. I do love a good hug, but still just not right. The same goes for spending time with people, although I think this is probably the closest one I can find that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy. So you see, I have for some time been in a bit of a quandary about how exactly it is that I experience love. That is until last night when I had a new discovery:

Information is my love language. Let me explain because I know it sounds REALLY weird, but hopefully it will make sense when I'm done.

Last night we attended a party where the hosts announced that they are pregnant (yay Cara and Jon), but almost instantly after I found out, I felt the need to call my good friend who wasn't there because we'd been discussing our theories about this in earlier weeks. It sounds gossipy, but it really wasn't. If she'd have been there, she would've found out that same way. As I called her and we gushed about our excitement, she thanked me for calling. And my response was "No problem, if you had been there I would've wanted someone to let me know." This response started me thinking:

*Although it's in the past, a friend told me she was pregnant along with the group instead of individually, which at the time was so sad for me. I didn't feel individually included in her exciting information.

*Earlier in the day I had a conversation with Melinda about her appointment with the midwife. I said "Give me all the information. I want to know everything!"

*I got off of the phone Thursday night and recounted my conversation to Herb. I asked him if he cared about my ramblings, to which he replied no, but he listens anyway because he knows I want to share it. He knows I need to tell my stories.

*I show my love for others by telling stories about myself, including details and making sure they are in the know in my life.

*I feel SO loved when people remember details about me that I've said in the past or when the check up on concerns I've expressed before.

*I had a situation at work yesterday where I was so angry and hurt because I was left out of an important information loop.

*Throughout the whole book nonsense, I was hurt because I didn't know what my administrators' were thinking and doing.

*I long to talk to people for hours, to hear stories about their lives. Their words, no matter how trivial, make me feel loved.

*Books have the ability to make me feel warm and fuzzy, especially when I feel the author has shared a piece of himself with me.

Information is my love language. Hopefully you don't take this to think I'm a gossip because I hope not to be. I don't want to know what you know about others, I want to know what you know about yourself. Tell me your thoughts on the world and what you've learned through your experiences and I will feel so incredibly loved. Let me tell my stories and I feel at ease in your presence. It's not about "knowledge making arrogant", it is about you letting me into your world. It makes me feel wanted to know that you desire me to be a part of your experiences. Perhaps it's that it makes me feel included. I haven't quite dissected all of the implications of this new discovery, but I'm quite confident that I have hit the nail on the head here.

So if I'm rambling on and on, try to listen--I'll feel SO loved. If I ask you annoying questions that are seemingly endless, know that it's not because I'm being nosy, I'm trying to love you, the Katie way.

Book Talk

For all of those interested in hearing a book talk on the book from this year's classroom drama, Borders books at Broadway and Wilmot (in Park Place Mall) will be hosting a PhD to speak on James Baldwin and Another Country. This book talk will take place next Wednesday evening, November 5th, at 7 pm. While there is no connection to my situation, I am excited to hear the thoughts of a literary scholar on this novel. I'll be there and hopefully those who are interested about hearing the literary merits of this novel will join me. It should be a nerdy good time. :-)

10 Things...

...you may not know about me:

1) I like to do things right the first time so I don't have to do them again.

2) I only brush my teeth once a day because my husband says we can become immune to toothpaste.

3) I cried when we traded some of my favorite players away from the Diamondbacks.

4) I can sleep for long periods of time at night, but naps are really out of the question.

5) I like to clean as I cook. I hate leaving a bigger mess for me to clean up at the end of the meal.

6) My greatest fear is that I will be abandoned.

7) I detest running errands alone--I would much prefer to drag someone with me through my misery.

8) I freak out anytime I'm a passenger in the car with someone who waits until the last minute to put on the brakes.

9) I have to clean and organize my classroom and desk everyday before I leave. It gives me a sense of sanity.

10) I am physically incapable of "speed reading". I have to take in all of the words and nuances of a book--there's no other way for me to appreciate it.

Smarts?

I've been feeling lately like I have very little to offer my students. I feel very much like they don't respect me because they think they're smarter than me and have no need for my knowledge. I have never worked with honors kids before and have not really faced this kind of problem. And it is a problem. If my students believe they don't need me or that I'm not teaching them anything than how will they grow? They won't. And how do they learn in class? They don't.

I have a friend who says she spends the first quarter of Freshman Honors English breaking kids' egos down, and I didn't quite understand what she meant until now. I have no idea how to do this. It's generally not how I teach. The whole situation has left me confused and discouraged. Until this morning...

I woke up to find an email from my mom speaking my language, movie quotes. She found the conversation between Robin Williams and Matt Damon in Good Will Hunting and sent it to me. The conversation deals with some of the very same struggles I'm having and just really encouraged me. I'm by no means as experienced as Robin Williams, a man of 50 years, but I have lived more life than my students. There is a reason they've hired me and trust me with these kids in my classroom. Not to mention that I hope what I have to offer these kids is more than knowledge. More than the ability to "analyze literature." I hope I offer these kids love and grace and an opportunity to know more about themselves and others. I could keep trying to explain the logic, but I'd rather the quotes just speak for themselves. So here goes (warning: there is explicit language below):

Sean: I thought about what you said to me the other day, about my painting. I stayed up half the night thinking about it. Something occurred to me. I fell into a deep peaceful sleep. I haven't thought about you since. Do you know what occurred to me? You're just a kid. You don't have the faintest idea what you're talking about.

Sean: So, if I asked you about art you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michaelangelo, you know allot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the Pope, sexual orientation, the whole works, right? But I bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there, and looked at that beautiful ceiling.

Sean: If I ask you about women. You would probably give me a syllabus of your personal favorites. You may have even been laid a few times. But you can't tell me what it feels like to wake up next to a woman and feel truly happy. You're a tough kid. If I was to ask you about war you'd probably throw Shakespeare at me, right? Once more into the breech dear friends. But you've never been near one. You've never held your best friend's head in your lap, and watch him gasp his last breath looking to you for help.

Sean: Personally, I don't give shit about all that. Because you know what? I can't learn anything from you I can't read in some fucking book. Unless you want to talk about you. Who you are. Then I'm fascinated. I'm in. But you don't want to do that, do you sport? You're terrified of what you might say. Your move chief.

Failure

"He who has never failed somewhere, that man cannot be great. Failure is the test of greatness." ~Herman Melville

How profound! Without failure, how can we know success? How can we learn? How can we be encouraged by others? by God? One of my greatest frustrations with students is their paralyzing fear of failure. They will not raise their hands, venture an answer, try something new, for fear of failure. Somewhere along the way our school system, or their parents, or both have taught them that school is about getting the A. Learning is a secondary result, and getting the A definitely doesn't involve failure. I resorted to not calling it failure because that's what F stands for, right? I call it any other euphemism I can think of--attempted success, risk, courage, stumble, areas of growth--but nothing can shake the stigma they feel with trying and finding themselves unsuccessful.

I've tried to model this in the classroom. Own up to ideas that I thought would work and fell flat on their face. Or making a mistake, owning up to it with the promise to do it better next time. But what I've realized is that I'm not that much better. In general I'm not afraid to take risks in the classroom, but I think it's because I believe I'll still be loved and cared for if I fall flat on my face. I hope I create that same environment for kids, but I'm not sure that's enough to untrain them. This year, however, I do not feel like my failures are met with laughter and gentleness. The AP and honors kids are a much harsher crowd with higher expectations. This isn't true of all of them, but the general feeling I get from these kids is that failure is not an option. It is a mantra they live by, and thus it is a standard they hold me to as well.

I realized this weekend that I have been walking on eggshells, living in that fear of failure and shame in front of these kids. In the times I've tried to own mistakes I feel glared down or not smart enough to offer them education. In fairness, I've allowed them to have that power over me. I've given them the chance to glare at my failures and imperfections instead of creating a space where failure is growth. I've decided that this ends right now. I will continue to own my failures and imperfections, it's part of who I am. I can't live in hiding, and I can't teach in hiding. If I'm going to learn as a teacher, and if they are going to grow as students, then we are all going to embrace the falling, the scraping of our knees and the wiping ourselves off and getting back up again. We're going to do it together, and I'm going to drag them kicking and screaming. We are going to accept our failures and move forward. That's how greatness happens, for all of us.

Say 8 or rather Say Chest Pain

"Say 8" is one of the many jokes from Brian Regan's bit about going to the emergency room that kept me company in my own journey to the emergency room yesterday. Yes, you read that right. I spent 5.5 hours in the emergency room yesterday because I started having chest pain. Don't freak out! Apparently these are the magic words that strike fear into the hearts of loved ones, and these are the words that rush you right through the waiting room at the ER. I wish I had known this all along; I've spent countless hours in the waiting room of the ER wishing for a Fast Pass, but those are other stories.

I woke up yesterday with the lingering chest pain from the night before. I worked out because yes, I am that crazy, and then decided to look on WebMD for ideas as to what might be causing the problem. Every single thing associated with chest pain urged me to see a health care professional immediately. This thoroughly annoyed me. I didn't want my day to be inconvenienced because of some stupid chest pain (indeed this is the statement of my mother's daughter!) Initially I thought I'd try to get in to my GP or go to urgent care so I could make it to 2nd or 3rd hour to teach. I called my principal and he encouraged me not to come. Good thing because my GP said "we send all chest pain to the ER" and 6 hours later I was leaving the ER. So no school for Katie yesterday.

Driving to the ER was a "pleasant drive" and when I got to the hospital I saw that they had valet parking. Brian would be so proud! If there's ever a place that needs valet parking, this is it! But there was no attendant standing outside! So I tried to find the ER to park and enter. I circled the hospital for 10 minutes trying to find the ER! I really think they need better sign-age for a place like that. A big blinking red sign would be amazing, with a bunch of little signs pointing from every direction to the ER seems quite logical. Luckily I found it without "imploding."

So I walked into the ER and I was a bit relieved they didn't ask me "what seems to be the problem?" or I may have started laughing right then and there. After taking my vitals and hearing the words chest pain, they sent me right to triage. While in triage a 70 year-old man came in with chest pain, and the nurse who was training a new nurse explained that you don't triage a 70 year-old man with chest pain, you just send him right in, but if it were a 20 year-old they'd check him out first. Then she picked up my chart and said "Classic example!" She asked me some questions, one of which was "How would you rate your pain?" With a straight face, which was really hard thanks to Brian, I said 5. I couldn't say 8 because I was willing to work out with the pain, so I figured that wasn't an 8. They sent me right to a bed, put me in one of those awful gowns, and I waited for Herb to arrive. While I wasn't dying, I apparently scarred Herb our first year of marriage with my Kidney infection when he wasn't able to be at the hospital, so he felt compelled to be there now. And I was glad...who else could make me laugh about such events?

So I waited, a good hour at least, for the doctor to come in and check me out. They had hooked me up to all of these monitors, and of course I had to pee (because I'm me) when there was no nurse to be found. So I unhooked myself, found the restroom, and hooked me back up. This happened twice in my day, which I thought was pretty good for my bladder. When the doctor finally came in, he listened to my lungs and heart, asked me what I ate for dinner last night, and then said he thought it might be acid reflux or my gallbladder. They'd have to do an ultra sound to be sure. This seemingly quelled any concerns I might have had.

Before the ultra sound, my nurse came in a gave me a "shooter", as she called it, of Lidocaine and Mylanta. I was burping pain killer the rest of the day, not a good time! Not to mention that it didn't really work, in fact it kind of increased my pain (although still not an 8!) I was then wheeled off for my ultra sound where the tech was super nice and comforting. She gave me a blanket because of course I was cold, and chatted with me about life. I was quickly wheeled back to the room where I stayed with no action whatsoever for the next 2.5 hours.

Finally I sucked it up and hit the nurse call button (I hate inconveniencing people for minor reasons) and asked if Herb could go get us some food. She went to ask the doctor if I could eat and in he came with my results. (I should've asked for food sooner!) He said I have gallstones and that they treat it the same right now as acid reflux because my gallstones are making it difficult for me to process the acid caused by fatty foods. He said he'd give me a list of foods that cause acid reflux to avoid. This was another point where I had to work hard not to laugh--good ol' Brian would have said "I know this already! It's like if I have a cannonball wound and the doctor says: here's a list of ways to avoid getting a cannonball wound--don't stand directly in front of a cannon. How true that is!" Now I really did need that list because I don't eat a lot of fatty foods in the first place. They didn't manage to give me a list, but they said in general to avoid foods high in fat and added "like peanut butter." It's as if he said to me "and no more happiness!" My little lactose intolerant self eats peanut butter as a go to food every day for lunch. I'm still pondering what will be my replacement food while mourning the loss of my peanut butter.

Before I was discharged my nurse came in and told me that there were three women in their twenties who had come in today with chest pain, all three of them had gallstones, but the other two were whisked to surgery while I was given a discharge slip. What a blessing to not have to have surgery! They said I can live with gallstones for a very long time with no real effect, as long as I eat healthy, and I was thinking that it's a great thing that I have changed my diet so much. If this had happened 5 years ago I may have been the one sent to surgery, but I changed my diet to be more healthy and while it didn't completely spare me, it made a difference.

So now I'm trying to deal with the realities of this. I'm taking acid blockers, but I draw the line at the Percocet prescribed to me. If I'm a five I don't need big pain killers! But really I have to consider the foods that might trigger a worsening of my gallstones. I'll see an internist in a few weeks and he'll help me out I hope. I feel like my diet is so limited already that this just makes me more sad. I will say that lists I found online of foods that tend to bother gallstones are foods that have bothered me for a while now. Foods like eggs, pork and red onion are on the list, so I'm not completely crazy that those bother me AND I've already cut them out of my diet. I guess it's just being mindful, or even more mindful, when I make food decisions outside of my house. I try to be, but I'll be even more diligent in that area.

I am thankful that the least of my worries is diet change rather than surgery I suppose, but ala Brian Regan the doctor is the only time I feel like a little kid again. "You didn't listen to me last time, did you? 'No, no I didn't.' What are you going to do next time? 'Listen when you tell me stuff.' And when are you going to start? 'Right now, right now I'm going to start.'" So I'll try to listen to the stuff my doctor told me, and hopefully next time I won't land myself in the ER. Or if I have to eventually find myself there, may it be bad enough that I have to "say 8!"

Check out Brian Regan's bits on the ER right here:
ER Part I
ER Part II
Doctor's Office

Long Distance

Last night I talked to my Uncle Dave on the phone because my sister was hanging out and he called her to chat. It was so nice to catch up with someone I love, to hear his voice and be assured that he's hanging in there. I love to reconnect with people who live far away, but I'm HORRIBLE at it! I really am no good at sending emails, especially the variety where I am supposed to go on and on about my life. I love getting those emails from others, the updates that fill me in on their happenings, but writing them myself is difficult. I'm so terrible at picking up the phone when I'm thinking about someone and just dialing their number. I get concerned about what time it is there or how I will be inconveniencing them or I just plain want some down time. I feel selfish for being such a poor communicator, especially with family who live far away.

My sister is so good at long distance. Whether it's texting or calling, she keeps up with so many long distance relationships. I wish I were more like her, better at touching base. I wonder why this is an area of weakness for me. It's not a case of "out of sight, out of mind" but I'm afraid it appears that way. I don't want others to believe that I don't love them or don't care, but I can't seem to find a way to be successful at the long distance relationship thing.

I have no conclusion, just the problem. So I welcome any and all feedback. How are you successful at keeping long distance relationships alive? How do you keep in touch with people far away? These questions come with no promises that I'll be any better, but at least they come with a willingness to try. That's all I've got, the ability to try.

Planning Period

I so enjoyed blogging on Monday that I decided that it wouldn't be horribly inconvenient to attempt blogging during my planning period during the week. It may not be consistent, but it at least will give me something to aim for. I may not fall off the face of the earth after all.

I should be planning during my "planning" period, but I'm having a mental block. It's not just at work either. I forgot three birthdays last week, which if you know me it's not Katie-like at all. So much of my life is in limbo right now. No news on the house, no concrete job for Herb yet, no vision at school and no concrete emotion. I can't really describe or name where I am, which apparently stops me in my tracks. According to Melinda I make her "name" things, a process that I do myself. I name how I'm feeling. I name the situations I am living through. I name the people in my life. Not so much name calling as calling it like it is. Observing and identifying how things work and why they matter. This brain block of mine has kept me from "naming" happenings in my life and I don't know what to do with myself when I'm in that place. Suffice it to say, I'm in a limbo.

I suppose this is what some would call waiting on the Lord. Normally when I think of that phrase I envision waiting for something specific or guidance in a particular area. I've never had the experience of waiting on the Lord for some undefined purpose or idea. Waiting on the Lord for a sign of where I'm going. But that's okay. It's something new; a new experience in my walk with Jesus. So I guess I'm not really in a "planning period" right now; I'm in a waiting period. May the Lord give me a wide soul as I await His leading.

A Good Man

There is a short story by Flannery O'Conner called "A Good Man is Hard to Find" and it is a tale of one broken girl's ability to find the worst man possible. It's an awful story tearing at the very dignity of men. While I would say that a good man is a good find, I can't go so far as to say he's hard to find. Or maybe I'm just blessed. I know many a good man, and I am often uplifted by the good young men I see in my classroom. But mostly I'm inspired by my good man.

Last night our pastor spoke about Ephesians 5 and the mystery of a strong Christ centered marriage. I have often heard me referred to as a marriage advocate, as the voice for the positives of marriage. I am serious about my belief in marriage, about my belief that there is no greater relationship that bears witness to God's love for us. Much of that is grounded in my foundation with the Lord, but much of that stems from my spouse. It truly takes two to make a marriage work, and I strongly believe that my husband is a wonderful leader in strengthening our marriage.

In just the past week, I have seen so much of Herb as a good man. Everyday he meets me at the door and lifts my backpack off of my shoulders and gives me a hug. Herb helps bear my physical burdens. When I need to cry he holds me and allows me to grieve. Herb helps tend to my emotional burdens. After he passed the Bar exam and went out to celebrate, he brought home flowers to thank me for my part in his success. Herb recognizes my value in his life. Following church last week he stopped to ask a women who sat at his table the previous week about a point of challenge they'd created as a table. Herb wanted to check up on her spiritual growth. He made us late, but he also tended to the soul of another. He entered into a difficult yet loving conversation with me about how he finds patience with others that I don't have. Herb lovingly challenged me to assume the best in people. He slept with me in an uncomfortable bed just because I'd asked him to spend time with my family. Herb loves me just that much.

I'm not sure if a good man is hard to find, but I know I am extremely blessed to have one in my life. Herb is a good man and he reminds me to see the good in others. He is a man I respect and willingly submit to because I trust him. I trust who he is and who God is creating him to be. Marriage may be hard, but it is worth it to know, to intimately know, a good man.

Published?

You all know that someday I hope to be published, to be a writer in my own right. Not so much for the fame but to allow my voice to be heard. Without realizing it or initiating it, part of my voice was heard today through an article published in the Tucson Weekly. I haven't written much about the heart wrenching drama that has been my work situation in the last weeks for fear of saying the wrong thing, unintentionally allowing my emotions to slander any involved party. And I don't want to necessarily go into details about it here and now. But I thought for those of you who were curious or knew the article was coming, I'd make it accessible to inquiring minds. I wouldn't call it completely accurate, although I didn't have a say so part of that is my own fault. But for the most part the views expressed pretty accurately represent most of the parties involved. Feel free to post comments or ask questions and I'll answer them to the best of my ability while still seeking to be honoring and respectful. I'm not sure yet how I feel about the article, but it's out there now and can't be ignored. So we'll see how it goes.

Anyway, sorry if that's super vague. Hopefully the article can give some details and I can fill in the rest on a question by question basis. So without further ramblings from this English teacher here's the link:
Censored!

Putting in a bid...

SO I've been a slacker blogger. I haven't written, I haven't read, I haven't been immersed in blog world at all. To my faithful readers, I'm sending out another apology. Thanks for checking in at all! And to my faithful readers, you will be the first to see the pictures of our possible new house! Herb and I went house hunting this weekend and found an ideal match for us! Herb was almost beside himself with excitement, and while I had to think things through a bit, one return to the house Monday and I was as sold as he was.

I talked to my mom Sunday and she asked about the house, specs and that sort of thing. But she ended with, "Does it feel like home?"

My response was "I can picture Christmas in the living room."

To which she teared up and explained, "That's what grandpa used to ask us about when we looked at houses. Could we picture Christmas there?"

And thus, unknowingly God blessed me with a sign that this was meant to be! We put in a bid today and now begins the long, confusing journey of house buying. Pray for us that we might make wise decisions and follow God's prompting through this process. And pray that if it's not His timing or will that we will trust that as well.

Here's the house. I am posed in funny positions...I was trying to make the house feel "lived in"! :-)

Clothed in Him

In my devotional this morning, the author challenged us to write down what we hoped God would do in our lives. I thought this was a really cool exercise and I am embraced the challenge. I journaled it, but I thought I would receive more accountability on my hopes for transformation if I posted my thoughts. So here are my ambitions for being clothed in God:

I want to be clothed in love, a love for others that compels people to draw near to God. A love that looks past flaws and sees beauty. A love that endures even when it's not easy to. A love that looks beyond myself and sees the hearts of others.

I long to be clothed in patience, with a heart that waits on Your timing. I long to be content with what I have, hopeful for what's to come and thankful for the process that will get me there. I want to embrace the journey, not looking to arrive but appreciating each step.

I hope to have great hope, hope found only in knowing Christ. Hope that He wants more for me, hope that He will do anything to give me more and hope that He won't leave me on the way. I want hope that inspires me to pray, hope that brings me to the foot of the cross and relinquishes all cares and worries then and there. Hope that walks away knowing the Lord has it all in His hands.

I wish for a mouth of purity. Words that encourage and do not tear down. Words that inspire and do not discourage. Words of truth, even when they're hard to say (and right motives in my heart as I do speak the truth). I long for words of kindness and hope, words that reflect a heart for God. Words that sing praise even when a song can't be found.

I long to learn from who I was, to be daily transformed into who I hope to be, beyond what I hope to be and instead to what God sees I can be. I hope to change, to be changed and allow God to change me. May I never be who I am now, but may I constantly be growing into an image of who He wants me to be.

May I be strengthened by faith to do beyond all I can ask or think with Your guidance. I long for faith that can move mountains and move me. May I have faith that challenges me to be a risk taker; may I not stay stagnant where I'm comfortable. I want to step out in faith to do great things for You.

And finally may I be a woman of humility and grace. May I offer forgiveness to those who hurt me and may I constantly reflect the forgiveness I received that fateful day on the cross. May I realize my flaws before seeking to point out the flaws in others. And may that humble me to know I don't deserve the grace I've been given. May God's grace and forgiveness inspire me to always forgive, no matter the cost to myself. After all the highest cost was paid for my forgiveness.

Lord, help me to be clothed in you more every day of my life. You are beauty and I long to be beautiful.

Bush Bashing

Yes, I'm about to go political on you for a moment. If you are opposed, feel free to ignore the post altogether. But I can't help posting about this topic. I reached a point of frustration and then found a moment of enlightenment, which I'd like to share with you if you are interested.

I try diligently to ignore the media in regards to politics in general, but specifically in regards to President Bush. I have been a Bush fan for a long time, which many of you know about me. The biggest point in his favor in my book is that he is a believer and is not afraid to admit it. He asks for prayer and prays himself. He is humble in recognizing that he can't tackle the job he has without the help of a greater power. I appreciate all of these things about him especially because he does these things while being strongly hated by a majority of the nation.

The nation makes no apologies for their hatred of Bush. They slam him in all directions, and even when it is not his fault. This week I saw an article about the Chinese government chastising Bush for speaking up about their questionable human rights policies. Next to the article was a picture of President Bush! I couldn't believe the blatant stab at President Bush for something he didn't do. Shouldn't there be a picture of the Chinese President? The man who made the heretical comments towards America? But no, they post a picture of our President in hopes that readers will see the picture, assume Bush bashing, and read with a hopeful eye for more criticism fodder. Needless to say this put me on guard.

I was talking this over with my friend Shiloh last night, and I came upon a fascinating idea. While I was in my fits of rage about this topic, I said that it frustrated me that we live in a nation so willing to openly hate its leader. And then, Aha! Luke 21:17 "You will be hated by all on account of my name." If President Bush is so hated by the people of this world, he must be pursuing God in a powerful way. I am by no means saying the he is perfect, that he does no wrong, but I do think that perhaps he is doing what God has called him to. If that's the case, no wonder the world hates him. The world hates what it does not understand. Although this doesn't completely pacify me about the Bush bashing, it does reassure me that the Lord is in control. He is bigger than the powers that be and bigger than the naysayers of the world. He is capable of doing far beyond all we can ask or think, politically and in all realms of life.

So next time you hear someone bashing Bush, and if you believe that he is walking with the Lord, take a deep breath and realize they aren't hating the man but the Christ within him. It reassures me a bit, hopefully it will to you as well.

The Bar Exam

I think I've already hit up most of my readers for prayer, but I'll write one last all call. Today Herb takes the Bar exam. The culmination of two months (or if you look at it this way-3 years and two months) of work. While there were certainly some doubts and anxiety yesterday, this morning he seemed more confident, anxious to get it over with but stronger in faith. What an answer to prayer already! We prayed and cried (ok, I cried) together this morning and off he went. I am so very proud of his hard work, no matter the outcome of the exam. I pray that he feels that way as well.

So one last request for prayer for my hubby on this day. I'm sorry if you feel nagged; I just have a nagging on my heart to lift him up. May you, just as I prayed for Herb, be assured in your identity in Christ, no matter the outcome of your actions. We are precious because He has made us so. You are precious to me as well. Thank you for being my faithful friends!

Pride and Faith

Hello faithful readers! If you're still reading this, thank you for holding true when I haven't held up my end of the bargain. My mom said that my readers were disappointed with my lack of writing in the free time of my summer. It is true I hoped to blog more, but my summer seemed to be filled with living life rather than commenting on it. Not a bad thing by any stretch of the imagination, but still I am sorry to be absent from the writing scene for so very long.

I return the day before school starts in much the same place as I was last year. Not completely, I feel this year God has grown me immensely, but I find I still sing some of the same tunes. For instance, I have been worrying much about the work load of this year, just like last year. With 4 AP classes, classes full of students who actually turn in assignments, I have been grading plenty already this summer. I fear this will be the trend for this year. Grading is my least favorite task as a teacher and one I do not relish in the least. So the prospect of my life being consumed with this odious task is heart breaking to me.

I keep trying to talk myself out of it. "I'm sticking to my guns. I'm working until 5:30 everyday, but not a minute more. I'm not working on the weekends. It will still get done." But no amount of self-talk seems to dig me out of my despair. But our God is mighty to save, and He spoke to my heart in just the nick of time.

I was reading Having a Mary Spirit this afternoon and the chapter was about pride. I thought, "Oh great, conviction time. Can't we just have a lighter subject? One that will minister more to my state of being right now?" God's bigger than my nay saying as usual and spoke mightily to my heart.

She started out by confounding my definition of pride. My whole life I've believed that pride is puffing oneself up, believing we are greater than we actually are, which is true of the word. But also true is the idea that insecurity and negative self talk is another version of pride. I wasn't completely sure she was right on this topic, but after further exploration I believe she is. Pride is when we focus on ourselves, make ourselves the center of the universe rather than lifting up others. When we focus on our failures, on our imperfections, on our insecurities, we are still focusing on us!

Okay, I get where you're going, but still, what does this have to do with me, with my life at this moment? Then there it was, my story. The author was relaying her struggles in writing this book, in believing she didn't have the knowledge, ability or time in which to write. Why would God choose her with all of her failures and lack of time? Here's what God answered me, I mean her:

Let me get this straight...although I spoke the universe into existence and hung the stars in space...even though I promised to help you when you said yes to My call...and even though you've cleared your life and made time to write this book...you still keep saying you can't do it...What you're really telling Me...is that you're the omnipotent one around here. Because no matter how much I help you, no matter how willing I am to give you the words and the ability to write...you just know you'll find some way to mess it all up!

Yep, that's about it. But it sounds so awful when you put it like that! It is pride, but really it is unbelief. And that's what it boils down to. Do I have faith enough to trust God will take care of me? Do I have faith enough to know that God will grant me time when I need it? Do I have faith enough to believe that He's called these kids to my classroom for a purpose and that He'll provide everything I need? It's about faith.

I used to think that pride was the root of all sin, and in a lot of ways the two are intricately connected. But I'm starting to realize that sin is also intertwined with unbelief. Because if we believe God is big enough to take care of things, we won't: avoid risk because of fear, speak up when faced with an opportunity to gossip, worry and strive about things outside of our control, try to take control in difficult situations. If we believe, we remove ourselves from all of these opportunities to sin.

Last week our pastor asked us if we truly trust God, if we truly trust His desire to work things together for the good. And while we initially want to respond with a resounding yes, the answer is, at least for me, not all the time. I don't act out of trust in Him, in fact many of my actions are done out of fear. I'm just being honest. So now I understand the man's prayer to Jesus in Matthew, "Lord I believe, help me in my unbelief."

Thus, with the start of a new school year I seek to believe and trust God more. He will provide. He does seek to work for my good. I need to stop protecting myself or striving about what I can't protect and just trust. I want to be a 1 Peter woman whose beauty lies in a quiet and gentle spirit, a heart without fear. May my life be humble and full of faith, not just this week, not just this year, but may this be the beginning of a lifelong journey full of trust in my Lord.

My risk

I know this is the long awaited posted. You each have been waiting with bated breath to see what risk I will take. What new adventure will God call me to? I fear many of you will be disappointed with this post, or with me, but this is what I've got so far.

I am currently sitting in a dorm room in San Diego, CA. I've just dropped Herb at the airport and I'm settling in to my room. I am here for an AP conference, alone. This is risky for me. As I have been known to say, "I don't do alone well." And it's true. I cease to be brave once I've lost my amigos. There is something comforting to me in the presence of another human being I know well. I can brave the LA freeways, if Melinda's sitting in the passenger seat. I can navigate a new campus and a new system, if my mom is there or a phone call away. I can try new adventures, experience new places, if Herb is by my side. But ask me to navigate a major freeway alone, explore a campus I'm unfamiliar with (and make it places on time), and experience new places by myself and I am at a loss. I don't really like big freeways or daunting driving anyway, but going it alone is just fearful for me.

I've been thinking about this all weekend. Wondering why I can't be brave. Why do I fear major city driving? Why am I afraid to navigate in new places by myself? Why, at 25 years of age, do I feel at a loss when traveling solo? Honestly, it makes me feel like a coward. It makes me wonder how I can ever be a mom. If I take my kids somewhere and I'm in charge of driving and navigating, I'd better not freak out. If they are yelling in the backseat, I'd better stay level headed enough to keep it together. Yet I don't feel like I'm there. I feel like a big chicken. And I began to feel the anxiety of being alone four hours before Herb even left me. I began worrying about how I'd make it back from the airport and figure out my situation. What a scaredy-cat!

Which is why I am writing you now. As I left Herb at the airport, tears trickling down my cheeks, I made a decision. This is my risk. I am going to take it one risk at a time. I got in my car and drove myself safely back to the dorm, merging and changing lanes on a major CA highway! I got to my room and I set up my things, preparing myself for the day tomorrow. I spoke to the front desk and negotiated my computer into accessing the internet. Small victories, small risks, but mine none the less. I did these things by myself. I didn't call my mom and consult how to solve the problem. I didn't have Herb talk to me the whole way back to the dorm via cell phone. I did it. Unaccompanied. And tomorrow, I'll set my alarm clock, get ready, find the dining hall and my class on time. I can do this. I can. This is my risk, to trust myself to be alone.

And I can do this because I am not alone. I invited God into the passenger seat of the car with me. He'll sleep in the bed next to me tonight. He'll sit on the couch with me while I read my book. I am not alone, and I need to learn that. I need to learn that facing fears means embracing trust. And I know only one person who I can place complete trust in. It is going to be okay because I am not alone!

And now, I have to make a confession, not only am I not alone right now, but I am not going to be alone in 24 hours either. Melinda will be joining me tomorrow. You're laughing right now, aren't you? Be honest, I can hear it in my head. "You're kidding me, right Katie? All this talk about taking risks and being alone, and it's only for 24 measly hours?! You can't be serious! Buck it up and take it!" You're right, it is ridiculous that a girl of 25 has to pep talk herself into being alone. But as I've said, I don't do alone well. So this is my chance, be it small, to practice being alone. There is no loss is small victories, and this will be one of mine. I will practice and I will try and I will risk. Not without fear, but I am going to do it. Not just today, and not just tomorrow, but I am going to practice being alone, doing things by myself. Pray for me because for me it is a risk, and it can only be entered into with great love and compassion from others and from God. Here I go...I'll keep you posted.

2 AM Wake Up Call

As some of you know, I've been fighting something all week long.  Sore throat, snot, stomach ache, overall ache.  In general I don't do the laying low well, but I have attempted to the last two days.  I tried to nap, read a good book (nothing good at all was on TV), I didn't even work out or clean my house (huge moral victory!)  But that didn't stop my body from attacking me!

2 AM I am wide awake.  Apparently I had draped my arm across my neck and my glands were so swollen that it hurt to touch.  So I got up and attempted to rid myself of snot and climbed back in bed.  No good.  My throat was throbbing and the pain kept my eyes wide open. I got up a few more times, used a flashlight to check my throat--looked white a spotty to me. Arg...I laid there trying to surrender my aching body to the Lord, trying to trust Him.  But these thoughts kept flowing through my head:

Why can't we call the doctor in the  middle of the night? 8 AM feels so far away!

Why isn't there a take home strep test that I can just pick up at Walgreens?

Why did I throw away all of the expired drugs in the de-cluttering process?

I remember all the times the doctor asked me if my sore throat was keeping me up.  I responded of course not, and he reassured me that he would prescribe me some pain meds if it became a problem.  I'd take those now!

But come 2:45 when I just couldn't take it any more, I fell on Mom's home remedy.  I gargled with warm salt water for so long a DUI officer might have mistaken me for being drunk on the ocean.  Although it's not fun choking on saline, it was enough to ease my aching throat and allow me to find sleep again.  Praise God!

In the throes of last night, I set the alarm for 8 AM so I could call the doctor.  When I heard that precious beeping this morning I awoke to an almost, key word almost, painless throat. Yay, I think.  Why is it that when you've finally set your mind on going to the doctor, your symptoms seems to subside?  So I'm waiting it out.  I gargled again, been drinking hot liquids and I definitely haven't returned to the 2 AM level of pain.  Hopefully this doesn't kick me in the butt.  Hopefully come tomorrow I will have no pain or snot, and I'll be able to enjoy my birthday festivities in peace.  And hopefully 2 AM won't be a time of the night I see for a while. We all know I don't do well without my beauty sleep. 

Clutter

To my great annoyance our apartment complex asked Herb and I to empty out all of our cabinets, drawers and closet floors for exterminators to come spray the place.  They gave us the notice Thursday and it had to be done by Monday.  Short notice, frustrating, but at least it didn't give me too much time to dwell on the ridiculousness of the task!

Come Sunday morning, Herb and I rose and began the odious job of emptying out all of our storage spaces.  I was determined to attempt to use the time to "spring clean", give away unneeded things and wipe down all of our cabinets.  Three garbage bags and four give away bags later our house was a complete disaster area!  Our kitchen contents alone occupied the whole of our dining room table, coffee table and pink chairs!  I reminded Herb that this is why the biggest room in our eventual home needs to be the kitchen.  He said he never doubted that fact for a moment.  Our emptied closets consumed the floor of the office entirely!  Our bathroom lived in two laundry baskets.  We have so much stuff, and yet I struggled to know what to get rid of.  Much of it is useful and much of it is sentimental, yet all of it felt like clutter. Perhaps that's just because it was spread all over my house!  Herb and I both had quite the aversion to the clutter generated, and he declared that as soon as we were showered we weren't returning to the house until bedtime.  So we left.

We went to lunch, to the movies, to the mall, to church, to some friends' house and fully escaped our home for the day.  Although I was happy to be away from the clutter, I so disliked not seeing the inside of my home all day long.  Especially on a Sunday, my supposed day of rest. Even though all of the activities we did seem unlike work, it still wasn't the same type of rest generated by sitting on my couch watching a good baseball game.  Nevertheless we escaped our home for day one.

Day two arrived and the exterminators ousted us again in a different way.  They were scheduled to arrive between 9 and 10 and we weren't allowed near our apartment for four hours after they finished. Oy!  So Herb and I left again to try and fill our days with non-home locations.  Herb went to school, as did I.  Not only was I ousted, but I really wasn't feeling well.  I just wanted to be home in my bed, but alas, that was not to be.  So off I trudged to be productive at school.  I did find some reprieve in lunch and a movie with a good friend in the afternoon.  But I knew that once I arrived home, I still had to face the clutter!  Arg!

When we returned come evening, we began the tedious task of putting everything back.  Two more garbage bags full, and one more give away bag later, we had returned items to their rightful location.  We do have a bit more space and a bit less clutter, but the days left me impatient in our house buying process.  I don't want to feel like we're sufficiently wedged in every nook and cranny of this space we've rented.  I don't want to feel like there is no more room for anything else.  But that's how I feel.  And I question this emotion.  Shouldn't I just get rid of more things?  Live more simplistically? Embrace the small space?  After all, this is the reality for so many people around the US and the world.  I should be content. Get rid of clutter. But should be and is are sometimes distant destinations.

The truth is Herb and I will be fine in this apartment.  God will provide for us, protect us, and make room for us here.  But I will still dream of more, and someday more will become a reality.  Until then, I will do my very best to hold the clutter at bay.  At least I've gotten good at hiding it away. Just ask my living room floor how much was really in my cabinets and drawers!

My Story

I finished reading C.S.  Lewis' The Horse and His Boy yesterday.  I do love the Chronicles of Narnia for all the truth hidden in the allegories.  It is impossible to miss the meanings imbedded in these children's stories, truths that are so invaluable.  Several times in this particular book Aslan tells the characters, "I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own."  These sentences have great power, but difficult truth beneath their surfaces.

I think it is important to realize that God is about revealing our story to us.  In His own time, in His own manner.  But I think it is extremely difficult for us to embrace the truth that we don't need to know the stories of others.  Or at least, it is extremely difficult for me to embrace. I enjoy being a part of others stories, I love inviting others into my story.  Yet God doesn't have to reveal their stories to me.  It's not my place to know the stories of others.  If they choose to share it with me, I should consider myself blessed, but I don't have to know it all.

Sometimes in our quest for knowledge, this insatiable thirst that is essential to growing and changing, we seek to know things that are not for us to understand.  It's almost the same idea as gossip; we want to know claiming that knowledge isn't a bad thing.  But sometimes the knowing can be hurtful or isn't any of our business.  Where I struggle is in the balance of things.  How do we determine knowledge that is for our refinement and edification?  How do we know where to stop, the line we should not cross?  How do we know the times when we should ask the hard questions of a friend and when we should back off?  How do we know?

Maybe the lesson is that it's not about our knowing but rather about our discerning.  It is less about the facts we can spew and more about the guiding voice we hear.  I'm finding more and more that the answer lies in intimacy with God, in hearing the shepherd's voice.  I need to rely on Him to tell me, just as He told Shasta "I am telling you your story, not hers."  And may God help me to be content with what I know of my story.  Lord knows my story is complicated enough as it is.  I do not want to lose my thirst for knowledge, but rather I want to refine it, so that the knowledge I seek is for my edification, for advancing the plot of my own story.  

May I also remember that "Knowledge makes arrogant, but love edifies" (1 Cornithians 8:1).  It is not in knowing the stories of others, but in loving them that the greatest changes will occur. Let the theme of my story always be love.

The Great Risk-"May it be as you have said"

I've written before about how God orchestrates details and conversations in our lives to reveal a greater theme.  Sometimes it is more obvious than others, but once you catch on to the meaning you can't help but see it everywhere.  Well, I've caught on, and it's everywhere!

It started last Thursday driving home from Disneyland with Melinda.  We were talking about this and that trying to catch up on weeks of missed conversations.  I landed on Herb's graduation and our impending future.  I said, "Herb took a huge risk in going to law school, and now he is encountering a whole new risk in applying for jobs."  And Melinda, being the thought-provoking, calling me on stuff kind of friend that she is asked me, "So what risks are you going to take this year?"  Woah!  What a question! I dunno...I'll have to think about it.  Teaching new classes, trying new ideas, but risks in the classroom are pretty much standard for me.  It's funny but I'm very willing to step out on new ideas in my classroom, something I'm not readily willing to do in life.  So classroom risks, okay, but what about risks in other areas of my life?  Hmmm...

Arrive at Sunday, heading to church for our study on the book of Daniel.  Glen is preaching on Chapter 2 and how Daniel boldly tells King Nebby-K that he can recount and divine his dream before even consulting God.  After boldly declaring what could happen, Daniel goes to fervently ask the Lord to make this act possible.  Daniel stepped out in faith and prayed later, an act which Glen called true faith.  Glen challenged us to take "risks" (there's that word again) without analyzing, thinking it through, making sure it's just the right thing for us to do.  In other words He called us to step out in faith without weighing what the consequences would be to ourselves.  Again, I felt a stirring, a conviction.  I am often so concerned about how God's calling will affect me, affect my plan for my life.  Maybe I should take a risk...

Then here we are on Monday morning, reading my chapter in Having a Mary Spirit.  The chapter is entitled A Willing Spirit and addresses Mary, the mother of God, and her willingness to respond to God's calling with a resounding "May it be as you have said."  Mary laid "down her own hopes and dreams so that His plans and purposes could come to pass."  What a risk it was to knowingly accept unwed pregnancy in a time when she could be stoned for that act! What a risk it was to lay her engagement on the line!  What a risk it was ponder those things in her heart instead of "justifying" herself to the city!  What a risk to allow her Son to live a ministry away from her side!  What a risk to stay with him as He was crucified!  Mary said "yes" to the challenges God offered to her.  She was willing, even when it was hard, when it seemed unbearable.  She did not weigh how others would look at her or what the implications of her "yes" would be.  She said "yes" and trusted.  What faith!  What unimaginable but right in front of us sort of faith!

Both Thursday, last night and this morning similar questions were posed to me: What is God calling you to do? How is He asking you to step out in faith? What risk are you going to take? The answer is: I don't know yet.  I haven't felt His leading yet.  I'm not sure what is being asked of me.  In a sense, I stand here frightened because this has been quite the build-up.  Is God preparing me to say "yes" to something huge and scary?  When the time comes, will I listen? Will I respond to the calling?  I hope so.  I'm not a big risk-taker by nature; I am super-analytical weighing each and every element.  So this is counter to my comfort, but heck, I'm learning that that's really what following God is all about.  We truly are living in a counter-culture of counter-comfort.  I think we truly have a choice to embrace it or not.

In the Mary Spirit book she juxtaposes the story of Mary's trusting response to Zechariah's unbelief.  I've never really looked at the two together before.  Both characters were visited by the angel Gabriel and given news that would alter their course, but their responses were vastly different.  Mary responded with a resounding "yes" and turned around to praise God for His magnificence.  Zechariah responded by questioning, doubting and God silenced him for the next nine months.  The author points out that in both situations the Lord's will was done, but where Mary got to sing, Zechariah missed out on the worship.  God's will is going to be done.  The question is: will we be singing, glorifying Him with our lives, or will we be silent?  Hopefully we choose to sing, responding with the words: "May it be as you have said." 

Oh the Joy!

Your long lost writer has returned.  I feel like I've been living in a hole for the last...9 weeks, no maybe 9 months...of my life.  I realized today that I hadn't read most of my friend's blogs in over a month.  I am sorry for being remiss, for really not being a very good friend these past weeks.  It inevitably happens each year at this time, but this year I attribute it to my focus on being a good daughter, a good wife and a good teacher.  (To be fair, most years I attribute it to being a good teacher, but this year I faced new challenges in preparing kids for the AP exam and sending seniors off into the world.  I digress, but I'm choosing to so I don't think it's bad form...I must say that sending seniors off into the world may be one of the coolest parts of my job.  I had such mixed emotions as I smiled and cried through their graduation.  It must be somewhat akin to what parents feel at this time.  It is such a privilege to have loved them and taught them for a time, and now I get to share each one of their gifts and talents with the world.  I find joy in realizing how much they have to offer this world and that enables me to let them go.  I must admit it was a bit reluctantly, but the love I had the privilege of showering on them for a time and the love they returned as we hugged after their ceremony made the letting go worthwhile. I really do have one of the coolest jobs in the whole entire world!)  You see, I've bunny trailed, but this has been my trail the last month or so and I thought I'd let you in for a while.

Ok, on to my other roles these past months.  I focused on being a loving daughter.  I'm sure lots of you know that I helped coordinate my mom's 50th birthday bash.  It was great fun, and such an amazing joy to watch her smiles, laughter and tears as she shared her special day with friends, family and her favorite locale, the beach.  I just happened to choose a beach that was filled with sand dollars, one of my mom's favorite creations.  I would say that wasn't happen stance, that was God's orchestration through and through.  It also provided me with a precious parting gift for my seniors.  It was such a life-blessing weekend for all of us, something much worth pouring my time and love into.

I think my most important role these past months has been as Herb's wife.  We've struggled and endured much in these last months of law school.  I could belabor the details of late nights and tired frustrations, but those seem unimportant in light of last weekend.  There are no words for what either of us felt or experienced as Herb put on his doctoral cap, gown and hood and walked across that stage at U of A's Centennial Hall.  What pure joy erupted from such trials!  How worthwhile the heartache and pain!  How blessed we each were to share it with those we love and who have loved us along the way!  There were many tears, but each joyous one shed equaled and echoed those cried in the past.  Our God is good.  He would still be good had Herb not walked across that stage by His faithfulness in carrying Herb and I through, no matter the outcome.  But He did complete a good work in Herb, and what a gift!

It is amazing to me how I can walk out of such wearying and trying circumstances and proclaim "Oh the Joy!" but perhaps that is the amazing work of the Lord.  This is what He means when He challenges us to "consider it pure joy."  I have found Jesus to be more profoundly real to me in these last months than maybe in my whole life thus far.  The deeper, more troubling my circumstances the more He challenged me to draw near to Him, to become more like Him. And while I am desperately longing for a reprieve, part of me still seeks that intimacy that comes from heartache and suffering.  Am I asking for those right at this moment?  Not particularly. Will I shrink away from them if presented?  I don't think I can, not after knowing how beautiful it is to dwell in the presence of God daily.  Do we need trials to dwell in His presence?  No, definitely not.  But He uses our circumstances to more firmly shape our visions and understandings of His character, both good and bad.  And He will continue to shape my vision through every circumstance.  I want to, I need to remember that when the next trial comes along, because it will shape my vision.  I need to remember that He is calling me to this prayer:

Be Thou my vision, O Lord of my heart

Naught be all else to me, save that Thou art.

Thou my best thought, by day or by night

Waking or sleeping Thy presence my light.

Be Thou my Wisdom, and Thou my true Word;

I ever with Thee and Thy with me Lord;

Thou my Great Father, and I Thy true son

Thou in me dwelling and I with Thee one.

Riches I heed not, nor man's empty praise

Thou mine inheritance, now and always

Thou and Thou only first in my heart

High King of Heaven, my Treasure Thou art.

High King of Heaven, my victory won

May I reach Heaven's joy, O bright Heaven's Son,

Heart of my own heart whatever befall

Still be my vision O Ruler of all!