7th Grade Wisdom

"Most people love Christmas, and it's a lot of people's favorite holiday because of the presents. Christmas is my favorite because it was the day the Lord was born. That's why we all celebrate it. We just forget it because of all the presents and business with family. That's what Christmas is all about, and that's why I love it."

"Some people might love Christmas because they get presents. I like Christmas because it is all about God. I think that everybody forgets about God and just thinks about what they are getting for Christmas."

So much of what I am learning about teaching is about just trying to understand how and what students are thinking. This is especially difficult with middle school students who, as my friend Brandon decided, may not even be human. I did these things so long ago I'm constantly trying to remember what it was like, what is is like now. Anyway...

We're going over how to write a well-structured paragraph as preparation for a literary analysis. (I know what you're thinking...One paragraph? Psshh... piece of cake! But asking a 7th grader to do it is like asking them to run a marathon.) To practice the specific writing structure for their paragraphs we just went over, I asked them to write about their favorite holiday. I know that there's really nothing about the words above that is new knowledge to me (or to hardly anyone). It's not rocket science. Still, when I read 40 essays about how kids love Christmas because they don't have school and get presents, anything different sticks out. Watching someone piece together the difference between celebrating Christ and celebrating themselves makes me feel like I'm learning that lesson for the first time too.

I recently told Zoe that I find myself getting choked up really easily now that I work with students all the time. I've morphed into some super-sensitive weirdo. Here's a prime example of me getting all sentimental and moved by a couple paragraphs. If God is this sensitive, it must have really really sucked to send his son for us.

A Life Less Ordinary

There's nothing all that important or neat going on, currently, but I felt I should post something just to make that clear. Actually, let's face it, there are always neat and important things going on all the time. So I suppose I wanted to make clear my magnificently poor recognition/awareness of these things as of late. My self-reflection seems to be in a valley.

Other than middle schoolers and all things middle school related, David occupies my mind. Such an interesting person with an interesting life... But he didn't start off as anything special. When I read 1 and 2 Samuel I am always surprised God would choose someone so ordinary to make so great, famous, and successful. (I'm not saying David didn't have amazing qualities, because he did. I'm just saying, of all the people in the world, why him?) I've always enjoyed his story, but now I am fairly certain it is not because of David, necessarily, but because his story really shows the faithfulness and necessity of God's presence in our lives. David was just a normal guy made extraordinary by an extraordinary God. The times we see David fall short of our unusually high expectations are the times when David has become lackadaisical in his faith... The most poignant example being his affair with Bathsheba. He should have been off at war with the others. He should have been close with God. But while the Ark of the Covenant and soldiers are out of town on the battle field, David is getting busy with the girl next door. Typical... I, too, am someone ordinary who serves an extraordinary God. When I realize I have forgotten to keep close to the King, I remember how small I really am on my own.

Classical Cats

I've been cat-shopping (browsing cats and all things cat-related). Today I pretended to peruse the chuck taylors at Import House while I in fact was sneaking a visit to my current cat interests... Simon and Charlie... These two super cool orange tabby cats from the humane society. I'm also hoping to hang out with another cool looking cat named Clive.

I call them Cat dates. It only makes sense since I think I am becoming a cat lady, and the only dates cat ladies go on are to the grocery store and the litter box.

I also have been trying to have some discipline in my life and realize I need to clear out some clutter in my brain. I did this once in high school and fasted from music. Music is a huge part of my life and it was basically impossible since if I wasn't directly listening to something I was thinking about something music related or absentmindedly humming. These aren't bad things, just something that's always on my mind. Anyway, in an effort to simplify, this week I have limited myself to a type of music I have neglected the past couple years: Classical.

If you have never listened to Chopin's Nocturnes you haven't lived. They'll make you feel sad and peaceful and filled up with something important you can't describe. Nocturne Op. 9 No. 2 is probably the most popular, but if you're really feeling reflective... There are 21 and they are all amazing. You might cry a little thinking how something so pretty exists in the world. Then again, maybe that's just me.

In my solitude

Wake up, check email, go to school. Go home, eat, check email. Grade papers, enter grades, check email. Read, write, research (Repeat X 1 million+ dinner somewhere). Walk/run, read, sleep.

This is my life. My life during the week anyway. On the weekend I usually have some kind of fit and decide I'm going to go out and do something exciting and different, but then I just sit around and watch TV or read.... Boring.... And still I realized today that even though I have all this time alone (and I am well-aware of just how alone I am) I haven't known solitude in a long time. Today, during my walk, I stopped walking and just sat outside in this park for an hour and tried for 5 minutes of that hour just to quit thinking so much about all the company I have crowding my mind. I tried to really be alone for 5 minutes; I might've got 35 seconds of solitude. Still, I know that is the longest I have been alone in over 4 years... Because I am never alone anymore, not really. I keep my mind and eyes and ears so busy all the time my head is crammed with stimuli. My mind is going a million miles an hour all the time, even when I'm trying desperately to listen to someone else. And I know God has placed me here in Athens living by myself for a reason. It's taken me almost 5 months to understand why, and I'm still not completely sure, but I'm getting there. I'm learning how to wait.

I read last night about when Samuel anoints Saul king over the people. He tells Saul he is going to have this enormous job of leading God's people as King, and then he tells him to go back to life as usual and wait for instructions before doing anything else. I wonder if Saul got impatient or was tempted to pretend he had received those instructions. I feel like instead of waiting for instructions I've just been going full tilt through the job. It's easier to feel like you have a purpose when you are moving at full speed. But I got this odd feeling today that there's such a thing as purposeful waiting.

long distance relationships

When I was a sophomore in high school my older sister moved to Southern Mississippi to get her master's degree. I'd call her up and ask her how things were going, tell her I missed her, all that jazz. We started doing this strange thing where we'd pretend that she wasn't across the country from me. I'd say something like, "so what are you doing tonight?" and she'd lie and say, "eh, nothing really." (I know now that she was lying because I, too, am getting my master's degree.) Then I'd say, "Well I was thinking of watching this movie... Wanna come over?" and she'd say, "sure, see you in a few minutes." And then we'd hang up the phone like she was really going to come over to watch a movie. There was never a movie and she never came, obviously, but we both liked to pretend for a while that it was possible. She lives in Wisconsin now and every once in a while, usually when one of us is having a bad day, we still pretend we're close enough to pop over to hang out.

Today I talked to a good friend and, even though she's also far away, she actually gets to pop over for a visit tomorrow. I'm so excited. Real visits are way better than pretend ones.

Some Perspective

His powerful legs work in time, quickly and powerfully charging up the hill. Everyone is depending on him to win, to fight, to try. Others may come, but right now he alone makes his way to the top of the hill to defend, to protect, to make a stand. Raising his front legs, he thrashes at the air, roars into the sky, and dares to be challenged.

The boy chuckles at the tiny ant dancing on the small mound of dirt. Squatting on his haunches and then lying down in the grass to get closer, the boy pulls out a magnifying glass from the back pocket of his dirty shorts; he watches the sun blaze through the glass.

The man smiles, watching the little boy patiently investigating some minuscule mystery in the grass with his little body lying still on the ground and his head raised, poised. He looked like a soldier ready to crawl under barbed wire or a rattlesnake ready to strike. The morning sun glints off of the man's belt buckle as he idly observes through the kitchen window. Sighing as he checks the time, he remembers when he was a boy and smiles again. Then the porcelain mug moves mechanically from his hand to meet his lips, and he is gulping down the black, bitter coffee.

On becoming an adult

1)Teaching middle school "part time" means teaching a full day for half the respect.

2)Middle school students are CRAZY. I love it.

3)Adults can be real jerk-holes. I hate it.

4)Going to the movies by yourself is strange. I kind of liked it.

4.5)Something stinks like death in my apartment. I'm a clean person. Regardless of things already being clean, I cleaned EVERYTHING and there's still death somewhere.... Why's this happening to me??

Things have been stressful and, overall, pretty miserable. I nearly cried 3 times just this week. Pathetic. Some of the reasons reminded me of the lyrics in a song by Brucie... "Pondering the difference between cynicism and bitching." Excuse the language, but seriously... I've been thinking about that all week! That and, "Lord beer me strength"

Emails, veggies, and dogs

First, a complaint. Checking my email has become one of my least favorite activities. I have to check my email pretty frequently now because it is the school's main way of communicating with me. I sign into my account begrudgingly at least twice a day and hold my breath praying there are no new emails. When I was little I used to get excited about checking the mailbox for letters and I'd get jealous that my mom and dad got sooo many letters.... People must really love them a lot, I thought. My mom explained several times that they weren't "fun" letters, just boring adult things and that I'd understand when I was older.

I'm older.

In a random grab-bag of assorted Betsy-related news.....

• I used skype for the first time and simultaneously watched a movie with Brandon. That was exciting and made me less sad about living by myself.
• Bernie is moving to Florida and she is making a stop at my place to visit and I'm really glad she puts that kind of importance in our friendship. It's weird, but I'll be the last person from Ohio she sees before she is gone. Makes me feel like I should bake a cake or something for the occasion.
• A couple years ago I developed an extreme delight in the taste of broccoli. Never liked many vegetables as a kid, but now broccoli is one of my favorite snacks. A couple weeks ago the formerly indifferent orange veggie (the carrot) became yet another surprisingly delicious snack. I can't seem to stop eating them!
• I went camping recently and befriended a guy of roughly the same age. He has a really nice and cute dog he takes with him everywhere. The dog's name is Zoe. He calls her "Zoloft". Interesting. I asked him if he calls her that because she makes him happy or because she is inherently sad.... He said it depends on the day.
• My quiet times have been much better recently. I'm grateful that God continues to work in me, regardless of how many times I fail miserably. At church on Sunday, I was reading after communion and the passage I read was an obvious encouragement about an ongoing prayer I have had for over 2 years (almost exactly). It's happened a few times this summer and I had forgotten how good it feels to be reassured like that.
  

Sad to say........

Why are goodbyes so difficult? I never do goodbyes. But right now my heart feels droopy with the goodbye.... withering at the mere thought of the words I won't say. As a rule, I think goodbyes between Christians are silly. We have forever together... what's a few days, months, or years? But the goodbye has unexpectedly come knocking and took the wind out of my Captain Confident sails. Perhaps what is most disappointing of all is the realization this goodbye has taught me; I still cannot seem to trust God with my life.

"Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens"--Psalm 69:19

"From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I"-- Psalm 61:2

The Proximity Tango

Have you ever known someone you can't seem to avoid? Maybe it's someone you know well and maybe it's someone you don't know at all... but through a series of seemingly random happenstances you feel like you either:
(A)Should get to know that person
or, if you already do know them, you should
(B)Get to know them better. It's the standard matter of proximity.

It's a somewhat amusing, confusing, and curious dance we do that makes us question and compare the meaning of words like "purpose" and "coincidence". We might give these people nicknames and talk to our close friends and roommates about them. It becomes a game. We have to run home to tell someone that, once again ("What are the ODDS??") we saw, "That bearded-guy from Big Mamma's" or "Wolf man from physics" or "nail-biter from Coms 205" etc... We laugh and recite what we observed this person doing or what awkward conversation occurred and marvel at the chance run-in with whomever it is. It's a game some people love. I hate it. Athens is like a weirdo hybrid designed for crap like that. Not small enough to know everyone but not big enough to get lost in the crowd. After you've lived here long enough, you find yourself doing the proximity dance more and more often.

I have been doing the proximity dance with one person in particular for three years now... By far the longest running dance yet... I've decided to give him a pseudonym for the sake of privacy and refer to him as Voldemort, in case I need to tell you about the next unbelievable run-in. Anyway, I had another one today. It makes me incredibly paranoid. Every time it happens I feel like I'm having a minor panic attack. Why won't Voldemort just leave Harry Potter be?

Chaos Theory

I decided a couple weeks ago that now is a good time to start over. I'm going through a number of firsts in my life... The main two being living by myself and going to grad school... and the adjustment has been, well, not very "adjusty". There's no adjustment at all, really. It's just complete chaos and me standing in the middle, slack-jawed and wide-eyed. My first week of grad school has been terrible. My day begins at about 7am and I have 12 hours of class... literally. I feel like I casually stepped onto a treadmill already zinging along at high speeds. I've considered my options:

1.) Kill my professor (who is pretty mean and looks exactly like Agatha Trunchbull from Matilda... You know? The lady who swings kids out the window by their pigtails and eats chocolates that don't belong to her but were some dead guy's and probably should've been thrown out ages ago.)
2.) Drop out of school
3.) Go jump off a cliff and get it over with

Last night I decided the best option was just to do all three in movie-like splendor. It'd be like a sweet package deal, you know?

It's all amusing to me because I have decided to start over... Or "rekindle" would be a better way of putting it. (I'm talking about my currently haphazard relationship with God, here, in case you're wondering.) The fact that my world has become a giant mess has only made me more determined to spend the time with God he deserves and I need, and made me more certain that someone out there desperately wishes I'd just give up already.

I am waiting for the day when I will have money to buy a cheap camera/microphone so I can skype with the very same encouraging, interesting, lovely person(s) who read this blog. (The "s" in parenthesis was a joke, in case you were wondering Zoe... You're still the only person I know who reads these ramblings)

Tour de North

A lot of things have happened. I don't think I'll go into too much detail, though I tend to tell stories in detail. It's just that there are so many things with such a diverse range of emotions, locations, tones... There's just no way to do it without taking forever or being a complete cluster-cuss. In the past couple weeks I have graduated from college, moved, watched many people I love leave, traveled around Boston and NYC, and too many other things (and some I can't even bring myself to mention). I've been assured of some things along the way:

Hearing good news of how God is taking care of my friends and family is often just as exciting, if not more, as if it were happening to me.
I'm nervous about the future and continually tend to be too self-centered to allow God to take care of me.
There is a God who loves his kids, and He is faithful.
God's power and omnipotence are not diminished by my limited understanding, and even if I cannot fully comprehend how or why something happens He is still at work.

Etymological Insomnia

I spend (or waste, depending on how you look at it) an extraordinary chunk of time thinking about words and phrases. It's annoying, but if I can't sleep it's usually because I'm tossing and turning over some pointless internal debate about words. For example last night I just kept mulling over the phrase, "By the skin of my teeth". Hours are wasted (or spent) just staring in the dark in vexed frustration about phrases just like that. Seriously...

By the skin of one's teeth?
By the skin of my teeth.
By the skin of your teeth.
By the skins of your tooth.
By the skins of our teeth.

Who came up with that phrase and why do we use it? TEETH DON'T HAVE SKIN. Unless "skin" is some kind of reference to something else......... And then I spend more time considering all the options of what "skin" could be referencing. In case you are wondering about the etymology of this particular phrase, I found it. "By the skin of one's teeth" is a biblical phrase from Job 19:18-20. It's debut can be found in the Geneva Bible from 1560, translated from the original Hebrew

"Yea, young children despised me; I arose, and they spake against me. All my inward friends abhorred me: and they whom I loved are turned against me. My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, and I am escaped with the skin of my teeth."

So this tells us where it is from, but not really what it means. That part is still completely ambiguous. Maybe the "skin" are his lips or gums. Maybe Job is saying after everything (sickness, death, destruction) he has barely escaped Satan's attacks with his teeth still in his head. This gives me a little teeny bit of satisfaction, but not nearly enough to secure my future sleeping habits.

Emo post for Zoe

I read a few days ago that the Japanese "Origami" originally meant something close to "guaranteed" or "certified". In the 1300s the Japanese would take their important documents and certificates and fold them in such unique ways that it would prevent anyone from making unauthorized duplicates. I imagined what my parents would say if I folded up my diploma. It'd be the most expensive origami stegosaurus I've ever made.

On another note, we had crazy club at the Finney's tonight and I said goodbye to my kids. I know they're not "my" kids. Also, they're not "kids". But I love them. The past couple weeks have been really sucky. It's so stupid to cry because I'm no longer a Young Life leader for Federal Hocking, but I can't seem to stop myself. I know I will still try to hang out with some kids and I've already made plans with one in particular, so why do I feel so sad? I've always tried to cut to the heart of things with people... Tell people the way things are and not leave anything unsaid (whenever tact allows it, and sometimes even when it doesn't) but I have this gnawing sadness that so many things weren't said and so many kids weren't reached. It breaks your heart to see so many kids come and go and never choose to take God's hand. I also started crying recently while looking at people I saw at Central, people who have clearly chosen to seek God, because I was so overwhelmed by how glad our father must be when his kids choose a life with him. I'm just one big crying mess. It seems I cry no matter what. Even at open mic, I cried... And that's my HAPPY place! Bruce played a song to Bernie, Brianna, and I by Bob Dylan called "You're gonna make me lonesome when you go". It's pretty self explanatory and I don't want to talk about these sad things anymore. There's no sense in wallowing in them. So, there's your emo post, Zoe-friend....

Also, I need to figure out Skype!

Jalopies

Yesterday my friend Sam called and asked me to bring my jumper cables... She needed her car jumped and apparently I'm gaining a reputation in that expertise. That is at least the fourth car I have jump started in the past 6 months. Is it just me, or is that an insane number of people who need jumper cables?

Then this morning, as I was driving out to school, the car next to me is making this terrible roaring noise. Sounded like a plane taking off. It was so loud, I actually sped up to get past them for fear of aerial artillery possibly projectile firing and exploding my jeep. Unfortunately, as I sped up to avoid the car next to me, I realized the incredible noise was actually coming from MY car. The muffler seemed to have either fallen off or was in the process of completing its short fall to the crusty earth and I could not have been more displeased. It was 7 o'clock in the morning. Who would pick me up, give me a ride, or help me figure this out? Ridiculous.

It reminded me of a chapter in John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath. Car salesmen were exploiting the migration of those suffering from the Dust Bowl and looking to move West. They sold junky cars for 3 or 4 times what they were worth, knowing they'd break down in 100 miles or less. I feel like I've got a jalopy. Apparently mufflers and tailpipes cost $290.... On the upside, the people at Monroe Muffler, Brake, and services are incredibly kind.

A Proposal

Who is able? Who is willing? If the groom comes and says, "Choose me! Choose me!" but she says, "Oh... Not today..." will he come back? How many times will he return and ask her, beg her, to choose him? And how many times will she, a silly girl with nothing, turn away the one who is everything? Will his love for her waiver? what stops her from dropping whatever reservations she has to choose him, not just once, but everyday, forever? Does she not understand enough about who he is to honor his request for her? She figures. This thing I'm holding is too valuable to be dropped. She frets. She fears. These things I'm holding are too dangerous to be dropped and if they were, they will make a mess. The groom says, "I've done everything for you. Choose me." She listens. She believes; yet, she clings. She walks to the door and presses a weary forehead against the solid frame and listens again to the voice outside...

"Choose me!"
"Not today... Today's not good..."

How many times will she refuse? How many times will he return?

The Panda Says NO!

Bright and early Saturday morning brings a lovely smattering of high stakes bubble sheet questions and flustered essay answers. Can't wait for THAT. Until that heavenly Praxis Examination day, you can find me huddled in my room cramming my 3 and a 1/2 years of college into my head like a chipmunk shoving food in its cheeks.

I'm not ashamed to say syntax has never been my forte. I have several "Go-to" books on my shelf I constantly need to reference. There's one in particular that I grabbed this morning to brush up on my semi-colon usage for the Praxis called Eats, Shoots & Leaves. It is the funniest book I've ever read. Period. If you can't tell from the title, it's about punctuation and grammar... Which I am the first to admit wouldn't be the key to any person's funny bone. I've read this book more than once and today, as I hunkered down ready to get serious about my studies, I found myself lacking the restraint to put it down. I don't understand how someone can make me laugh out loud, and not just chuckle a little bit but really laugh hard... About something like an appostrophe or question mark, no less. The lady is a comedic genius and the subject matter just happens to pertain to my career choice. Lucky ducky.

Even if you are not a punctuation stickler, the book is hysterical. Once again, I'm genuinely amazed.