This I Believe

The past two weeks I had my students write “This I Believe” essays. It was a good and powerful writing assignment. For some, they really dug deep and revealed a depth rarely seen in 7th graders.

I wrote one, too. It was an exercise that was necessary for me. In a moment of desperation today, I read this to some of my students. I needed them to know my heart just a little more. So, I want to share it here.

This I Believe

I believe we all have a story to tell. Sometimes that story is short lived. Sometimes it has twists and turns that no one expects. Sometimes the story seems pretty straight forward, but then a long, dark tunnel consumes it. There are times when you think you have the story all figured out, but then, oops. Plot twist. I believe that our stories matter. I believe that there is someone, somewhere who needs to hear your story. My story.

My story begins with a happy family. I was the youngest of three, and I knew that I mattered. I was loved. I only ever remember my parents arguing one time. Seriously? Who does that anymore? I didn’t need to search for validation from anywhere else because my family gave me everything I ever needed.

Somewhere in the first half of my very predictable story, the road started twisting and turning, and life got hard. There were things that happened to me that no one should ever have to go through. My story turned a corner and I found myself smack in the middle of a pitch black tunnel.

I believe that the love that was poured into my life then, became the beacon light I needed to find the exit from the tunnel into a brand new chapter of my story.

From there, and for years later, my story was one of love, laughter, family, and friends. I married, started having kids. The blindsides started all over again. Surgeries for my babies so they could live normal lives. Hard, breath-taking moments.

Then I became a teacher. I started learning stories that belonged to my students. And my heart expanded and I became school mom to many. Because, you see, I let them into my story and they let me in to theirs.

Because of my students…all of them, I will never be the same. I will still teach, still open my heart, share my story so they might learn something from me. In return, I hope that they share a piece of their stories with me so that I can learn from them. Because I believe we all have a story to tell.

Every student, every story matters.

This I believe.

Year 2

Tomorrow marks the 2nd anniversary of my dad’s death. When I began this journey of grief, people kept telling me that all the firsts were the hardest – that once I made it through those, it would get easier. For me, the second year has been the hardest. It has been a difficult journey for me.

Just a couple months ago, I realized that I have spent the better part of the year + on my couch. Yes, I went to work, I went to church, I did all the things. But when I realized this, I finally was able to put a name on it. I have been depressed. Most people wouldn’t know. It wasn’t a debilitating depression. I was still laughing, smiling, singing. I was having a good time planning my daughter’s wedding – and it really was a joyous time. But things were missing in those moments (people were missing), and I knew I was about to go through another loss – that of my daughter moving across the country. I didn’t know if I could handle another loss in my life. But it wasn’t that she was getting married and moving away. It was me. I was the one who was lost. I was lost on the inside. I keep saying was…I still am, but I am working out of it now with God’s help.

So here are some things I have learned or been reminded of:

1. When people say they are fine or okay – maybe they are, maybe they aren’t. I have been “fine”, but really I have been dying inside. Now, most days, I really am fine. But if I ask you how you are, and I push a little, it is because I really do care and I don’t want you to feel alone.
2. Hugs are a salve to a hurting heart. One of the things that has kept me from drowning is the hugs I get on a weekly basis at church. My sweet friends who wrap their arms around me and check in on me – they have been a lifeline for me.
3. Vulnerability can be the beginning of healing. When I finally started talking and acknowledging where I was in my heart, I had a friend who started me making lists of things that hurt in my life. It was painful…but it set me on the path to healing.
4. We can’t do this life alone. True, we need friendships. We need those people in our lives that we can trust, talk to, lean on. But more than that, we need the one true companion – Jesus. He alone can give us the peace that passes all understanding. He is the Comforter, the Life-giver. So, I need to be persistent in my relationship with Jesus. I need to read His love-letter to me over and over, and I need to share my heart with Him and let Him share His heart with me.
5. Staying involved in things, at least for me, has helped. I didn’t have a choice but to go to work. But I found myself doing just enough. I had assurance, while still singing at church, that I believe the words I sing and say in the depths of my soul.
6. Grief isn’t a “one size fits all” deal. My journey will never look like someone else’s journey. So, allow people their journey…but don’t let them bury themselves in it for long. Stay persistent with them.

I am doing okay these days. I am coming out of the dark night and I am thankful that God has sustained me. I will close with the lyrics of one of my favorite songs:

“I Then Shall Live” by the Gaither Vocal Band

I then shall live as one who’s been forgiven.
I’ll walk with joy to know my debts are paid.
I know my name is clear before my Father;
I am His child and I am not afraid.
So, greatly pardoned, I’ll forgive my brother;
The law of love I gladly will obey.

I then shall live as one who’s learned compassion.
I’ve been so loved, that I’ll risk loving too.
I know how fear builds walls instead of bridges;
I’ll dare to see another’s point of view.
And when relationships demand commitment,
Then I’ll be there to care and follow through.

Your Kingdom come around and through and in me;
Your power and glory, let them shine through me.
Your Hallowed Name, O may I bear with honor,
And may Your living Kingdom come in me.
The Bread of Life, O may I share with honor,
And may You feed a hungry world through me.

Amen, Amen, Amen

**By the way, I still have my dad’s number on speed dial – and I call it on occasion. Maybe one day someone will answer. If they do, I will tell them about the man who’s number they now possess – that he was a lover of Jesus. I will tell them that I have prayed for the person who gets my dad’s number one day, and that I hope their life goes well. Then, I will tell them that I am taking their number off speed dial so they don’t think I am a completely crazy person.

 

 

 

The Call, The Fear, The Angel

On Black Friday, my youngest, Mark, called. It was 5:33pm. He was on a date, and they were going to see the lights at Opryland Hotel. I figured he was lost and needed help with directions. Instead, I heard, “Uh Mom, we just had an accident.” The words every parent fears hearing. I asked if they were okay and where they were. After assurance that they were okay, Paul and I headed to the scene of the accident.

We hugged the kids and handled things as best we could with the police and the car – it had already been towed, so we hadn’t seen it. The kids continued their date, now with her dad as the chauffeur – not was Mark had envisioned, but at least they were able to still spend time together. Paul and I went on a search for where the car had been towed. When we finally saw the car, the enormity of what they had gone through started to come to life. It was scary to think of what “should” have happened and relief for what didn’t happen.

Then, when we picked Mark up after his date, the story began to unfold. Traffic was terrible. When the accident occurred, the car spun 180 degrees, and they came to a stop facing oncoming traffic. Almost immediately upon the car coming to a stop, there was a man at Mark’s door. Mark remembers passing him on the road. And now he was there at the door. He checked on all the people involved, but he stood by Mark and Meril and helped Mark find insurance and registration cards. He told him, “Until your parents get here, I will be the closest thing you have to a dad. Just take a deep breath and know that no one got hurt.” He was gone not long after that.

As Mark relayed this story, I had the overwhelming sense that this man was an angel. He was there immediately to help Mark and Meril. The accident could have been so much worse – but it wasn’t. Psalm 91:11-12 says, “For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways; they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.”

Maybe I have taken that verse out of context, but I don’t think so. I believe that God sends angels to us in our times of need. I believe that there was an unnamed angel at that accident on Black Friday. And I am grateful. The call we fear getting, the fear that envelops all involved, it can be crippling. But an angel, whose name I may never know, was there when I couldn’t be. Just like Jesus to provide for needs we don’t even know we have. And I am grateful.

More than Enough

I teach reading and writing for a living. Words matter to me. The combinations of words that make some of my favorite novels have the ability to carry me to another world. Words have the ability to make me laugh, cry, cringe, pout, celebrate, and stand in awe – a myriad of emotions. Words can help to build up or they can quickly tear down.

I teach middle school students. The words I hear…the self-talk…it often breaks my heart. The students, they tell themselves they aren’t good enough or that they don’t matter. They tell others that they are “stupid” or “annoying”. They hurt, in part, because of words. There is no need to recount moments like that. But, they also heal a little. The smile I got today from a student because I told him I was proud of his focus today…it was worth the effort for praise. The lift of the shoulders I saw in one student because another offered to help her pick up her books…it was encouraging.

Be sure, though, that it isn’t only students (kids) who are impacted by words. Adults are profoundly impacted by words, as well. We say things to and about one another without measuring the impact. We often use our words without regard for how they will be received.

When I was in 7th grade, my siblings and I sang in church. After the service, I followed them out and heard someone talking about how amazingly talented they were. I reached the person talking, and he said, “You’ll be good one day.” In that moment, I knew that I would never be good enough to sing like my brother and sister. In retrospect, it propelled me into finding other things in which I could excel.

There are other instances where words cut me deep. Most recently, I was told I was “adequate”. I looked up the synonyms for that word – words like: acceptable, fair, satisfactory, tolerable, decent, passable, unexceptional.

One of the things I teach my students is the difference between the denotation of a word (literal meaning) and the connotation of  a word (feelings evoked by). The denotation of the word “adequate” is: as much or as good as necessary for some requirement or purpose. For me, the connotation of the word “adequate” is: not good enough.

The reality is, I am a grown woman. I know how to take those words that cut deep and work to turn them into better words. The reality also is that these words weren’t weighed before they were said…and they cut, because I am at a place where I didn’t need to hear words like these.

So I circle back around to my students. And not just my students. I want to circle this back around to every person. We need to be speaking LIFE to one another. We need to be speaking words of LOVE and ENCOURAGEMENT to each other. I tell my students on a regular basis:

We don’t know what is going on in each other’s heart and mind on a given day. That is why it is so important to BE KIND to one another. We need to work to build one another up.

Because each of us is more than adequate. I am more than enough…and so are you!

 

Silent Tears

I didn’t take any photographs, but the images are etched in my mind. I, quite literally, had no earthly idea what to expect. There we were, with several hundred middle schoolers, sitting on the football field. We were wearing funky glasses that no one wanted to keep on. But, boy was it ever worth it!

I could describe what I saw, heard, and felt. I could describe it, but I wouldn’t do justice to the experience.

I was supposed to be making sure the students kept their glasses on. For just a bit, though, I walked away from the group. As I looked through my solar eclipse glasses, the sun was being shadowed – and tears fell from my eyes. I didn’t expect that.

Then, the whistle blew and we were allowed to remove our glasses for 40-ish seconds. I can say with certainty that I now know the true meaning of the word AWESOME. Dictionary.com defines the word awesome as – causing or inducing awe; inspiring an overwhelming feeling of reverence, admiration, or fear. I don’t believe I have ever had such overwhelming feelings of reverence and awe as I did standing on a middle school football field today.

My tears fell silently. Even with the noise of middle schoolers, I was in my own space. And, in that space, I confirmed these things to be true:

• There is one Creator of all things.
• The Creator, God, orchestrated the awe-inspiring eclipse of 2017…because there is an order to this world…and because He wants us to enjoy all of the splendor of His creation.
• God loves me – perhaps more than I ever realized.

Sometime worship comes in the form of songs and words. Today, worship came in silent tears – because there were no words. But, God knows the words I couldn’t utter. I stand amazed.

 

A New Beginning

I have spent a couple days in my classroom doing some purging and some sprucing up, in preparation for a new school year. I went through one drawer today that had student work samples from my first year of teaching. Right or wrong, I have measured every group of students I have had against that first group of students. It was my first year of teaching. Everything was new and exciting, and I knew it couldn’t ever be better than it was that year. There was the girl who came to school on the first day wearing knee-high Converse, the girls who had a “wedding ceremony” for a broken tape dispenser and an empty roll of blue painter’s tape. Yes, I still have them, and yes, I still display them in my classroom. Some years, no one seems to notice; other years, the curiosity gets the better of them, and they ask. Everything I kept was from that first year.

But this is the beginning of year ten of teaching for me. I now have the third longest tenure at my school, which is really strange to me. As I worked in my room today, I glanced through my class rosters. There will be approximately 150 students in and out of my classroom this year. None of them have been 7th graders before. I wonder about the stories that will be carried behind the eyes of each of these students. What will I find that colors their world view and their ability to learn? Do they know they are capable? Do they know they are valuable? Do they know that learning isn’t just a moment in time, but that it is a lifelong journey?

This is a new year and a new beginning for them. A new year and a new beginning for me. When I get tired and irritated, when things aren’t going as smoothly as I would like, I want to remember this:

Learning is a journey. Every journey is unique. How I respond to someone else’s journey could have a lasting impact on him or her. I don’t want their time with me to be a pothole in the road. I want their time to be remembered with fondness.

It’s a new beginning. I have decided that this will be a very good year.

 

One Month??

I saw a tweet yesterday. It was alerting folks in my county that we have one month until school starts. For us teachers, the start date is August 2nd. So, it got me thinking.

This year begins my tenth year of teaching. Of those ten years, I have taught 6th grade for seven years. This year will be my third year teaching 7th grade…but only the first year starting “fresh”. See, the last two times I looped up a grade, so I had many of the same students as the year before. This year, I won’t have the advantage of already knowing some names and/or personalities.

There is this thing teachers do – we share with the next group of teachers about the students they are about to receive. Sometimes it is good information, but it often is the negative stuff. It is sort of an attitude of, “I really care about you, so let me warn you about…!” Having looped with students two times now, I can tell you that the summer break makes a huge difference. Middle school aged kids are at so many different stages developmentally. Some have hit puberty, some are a long way off; some have grown out of bringing toys to school, others have more toys than school supplies.

Admittedly, I have participated in this “information-sharing” activity. However, warning our teacher-friends about the next group is, almost always, a disservice to the teacher and the student. Maybe we should purpose to stop it. Every person I have known, kid and adult alike, changes and grows and wants a chance to prove it. True, sometimes the changes are detrimental. Most often, they aren’t. And in middle school, the students can change from day to day or minute by minute!

So, let’s truly give each student a clean slate. Let’s not walk into the first day of school with preconceived ideas about how “Sally” or “Johnny” is going to act. Let’s make our own judgments about them – AFTER we get to know them and learn some of their stories. There is that saying, “The kids who need the most love will ask for it in the most unloving of ways.” So, let’s purpose to love our students this year.

Oh! And perhaps we can ask our students to not believe everything they hear about us teachers – and to get to know us first. Wouldn’t it be great to start the school year with one less uphill battle to fight?

My motto in my classroom is this – “Today there will be grace. And maybe chocolate. Definitely coffee.” Grace and coffee. Who can ask for more? Blessings to all my teacher friends as we near the beginning of the school year!

Don’t Blink

July 5, 2017

This summer is a summer of change and monumental events in my life. There are two words that have been continuously matching the beating of my heart: Don’t blink!

On June 24th, my oldest child, and only daughter (Hannah), got married to her high school sweetheart. How am I old enough for that? How is she old enough for that? But this has been a precious part of our journey in life. I have spent a lot of time reminiscing on the past 21 years as her mom. And all I find myself saying is, “Don’t blink!”

My kids are 21, 19, and 17. This stage of life is so unique. I have heard some young adults call it “baby adulting”. Haha! I wouldn’t trade this stage for anything. But, I find that memories have taken residence in my heart and mind. Every memory is connected to raising my three kids – Hannah, in particular. When school starts in the fall, there will be conversations about how we all spent our summer. My answer will be that I watched one of my babies take flight and not return. It is equally joyous and heart-wrenching. I know she is more than ready. It’s just that I think I blinked.

On the wedding day, I found myself looking at parents of young children, specifically daughters, and reminiscing about all the stages through which my husband and I  have journeyed. As I reminisce, all the emotions that have been attached to memories come back full force. So, I look at these parents whose kids are younger than mine and I have this message:

It may seem like you won’t get through this business of training up your kids. Maybe one is throwing a tantrum while another is throwing up lunch (if you have three, there is always one being the angel in these moments). Don’t blink!

Before you know it, they will be graduating kindergarten, or elementary school, or middle school. They will be driving, going on dates, and graduating high school. Next thing you know, there will be wedding bells ringing, and you will find yourself wondering how you got here. Don’t blink!

I implore you to treasure every stage and purpose not to blink – even through the really difficult times. The journey is so worth it!