The Wringer

 The Wringer

I want to share a quote that's been on my mind for the past 24 hours. Normally I'd just put it in my Facebook status and be done with it, but FB isn't really the best venue for the quote. Here's the context: a friend of mine (who shall remain nameless unless she wishes to identify herself) is going through a crazy-intense rough patch in life. Something that she desperately wants seems to be just beyond her reach, and our human eyes cannot see a way to make her wish possible. On her journey through the discovery of her loss and her subsequent grieving, she's been keeping me and one other friend updated via email.

It so happens that all three of us have been through the wringer. Life has not been kind. God has chosen to allow us to be put through the fire rather than spare us the pain. And while we don't always understand why or see the benefit, we trust that He has a plan, and that the plan is good. Always, the plan is good.

Here's the quote that's got my mind working: "I am grateful to both of you and that your lives have not been perfect, because you are real to me. We're kind of like the Velveteen Rabbit. I guess instead of love making us real, suffering makes us real."

In that quote, part of the goodness of the plan was revealed to me. My suffering makes me real. It makes me authentic, approachable, and not just a little worse for wear.

Hopeful stuff. 


***Update: Research Paper of Doom is finished, submitted, and graded. I got an A. This is more of a testament to the professor's idiocy than my ability to design an excellent research proposal. Was is it passable? Yes. Was it good? Maybe. Was it excellent? No way. The writing might have been excellent, but the proposal itself was not. But whatever, I still have a 4.0.

Picture Day

Friday was picture day at school. Insanity was the overarching theme. 

At the middle school level, picture day is a big deal. It’s hilarious to watch, actually. Students agonize for days over what to wear and get up a bit earlier to make sure they have extra time to spend in order to look nice. One of my kids even went shopping the night before just so she’d have a cute shirt to wear. The boys actually shower to make sure their Justin Bieber hair is swooping just right. The girls bring brushes to class and wear their hair down. All of them wear their best name-brand shirts. Like I said, it’s a big freaking deal.

In Transition

Hey ya'll. It's been awhile.

Since I last posted, I've moved. I've started my research proposal. I've been grieving the loss of my surrogate mother. I've been teaching. I've been sorting my belongings into complex categories (stuff I might need at the new place, stuff I want to keep in our storage unit, stuff to get rid of, stuff to ship to Australia...the list goes on). Oh, and this morning, someone smashed my driver's side window. Let's add that to the list, shall we?

All of that to say that I haven't been writing. But I have been thinking about writing. Posts are forthcoming, I just can't say when.

In the meantime, I have a new love I'd like to share with you: Jamie, the Very Worst Missionary. When I read this blog I am challenged to be more authentic, more hopeful, and more...me. Sarcasm, swearing, and all. Read it. You'll love it.

Me vs. Educational Research

I'm working on my Master's degree. It's something that I've needed to do for a while, and my current position as a teacher of gifted students is forcing the issue. In order to teach gifted classes, one needs a special certification. Since I don't have that certification, I have to go back to school to get it. When I took the job, I was actually quite relieved to be forced to go back to school. I knew I needed to get my Master's done, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to study. This job narrowed my choices to one, which was a relief.

Once the decision was made, I put the pedal to the metal. I started working on my courses last July, and just a year later I have 21 hours of credit. While earning those 21 hours, I worked full-time in a brand new job. Back in March I was filling out a form and I was able to check two boxes: one under "full-time student" and the other under "employed full-time". That was the point when I began to question my sanity.

The beginning of every semester is a stressful time for me because it's when the syllabus is distributed. In my eyes, the syllabus is life and death condensed into document form. The ISTJ in me loves having anything resembling a schedule or list, and a syllabus is exactly that: a list of things we will be doing in class, a list of due dates, a list of things I need to complete in order to earn an A. At the same time, the syllabus intimidates me. I see all of the work I'll be completing, and I mentally start to highlight the ways in which I don't measure up. I'm too busy to do this. I'm not a good enough teacher to complete my own work and care for my students. I can't be a good wife and student at the same time.

But mostly, I hear this: I'm not smart enough. I'm not smart enough. I'm not smart enough. This is going to be the class that defeats me; the one in which it is revealed to everyone that I'm actually pretty stupid. I'll get a bad grade, and everyone will know what I've known all along.

This semester I'm taking my research course. By the end of November, I will have designed and submitted a three chapter proposal for a research study. It will be about 30 pages long. Essentially, it's the first half of my dissertation. Right now, I have no idea how I'm going to get this done. I'm intimidated as hell.

This blog post isn't one with a tidy little ending. I'm not to the point where I can say it's all going to be all right. It probably will be, but I don't feel that way yet. Right now I'm living in the doubt. Maybe I'm smart enough. Maybe I'm not.

Maybe I should stop blogging and start doing my homework. Maybe.

UNhappy Feet

The Missouri Department of Elementary and Secondary Education website does not make me happy. It makes me downright angry. I can never find what I want in a timely manner, and when I do find it, the information is incomplete. The Kentucky website is much better. Boy, that's something I never thought I'd say.

(And let's be honest...unless we're talking about bourbon, basketball, southern food or horse races, one should never be able to say that Kentucky does it better!)

My Life: The Soundtrack

Next month, Andy and I will be moving to a different part of the city. We're shacking up with our good friends the Campbells in preparation for our eventual move to Australia. In order to prepare for this, we've spent some time sorting through all of the crap boxes in our basement. On Thursday, we decided to tackle our CD collection. Since Andy is a musician and lover of all things music, I knew this was an undertaking of epic proportions. Still, I had no idea that it would literally take all weekend. When we started, things looked something like this:

Imagine this, but multiply it times a million.

  

After several days of work, this is the new state of our music collection:

This makes me breathe much easier!

No Suitable Title

I received word yesterday that a former student committed suicide over the weekend. She was only 15.

I wonder what happened during her short life that made her want to check out so early. I wonder if she showed warning signs that were somehow missed. I wonder what we all could have done to show her how precious she was, and how the evils that she had experienced were worth fighting against. I wonder what it would have taken to make her want to choose life.

Today I am sad.

Revelation of the Day

There are people in my life who would love to help me feel my way through my sadness. However, that isn't possible at the moment. Not because of others, but because of my inability to allow myself to enter into any sort of feeling that isn't controlled.  

The problem here is me.

This revelation brought to you by the letter H, as in "humility". And "hope".

A Day in the Life

On my agenda for today:
1. Drink lots of coffee (check)
2. Continue reading The Return of the King (check)
3. Enjoy a visit with my friend Kara (check)
4. Watch World Cup final (partial check)
5. Go see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 with Cindi
6. Go eat Ethiopian food at Meskerem on South Grand

On Andy's agenda for today:
1. Drink lots of coffee (check)
2. Listen to music (check)
3. Love wife by dropping off items at Goodwill, so she doesn't have to (check)
4. Watch World Cup final (partial check)
5. Drink lots of water (partial check) in preparation for #6
6. Go see U2. Sweat a lot. Drink beer.

This is how we roll.

The Essentials

My happy feet hanging out by the pool. Ah, summer.

This picture was taken while laying by my parents’ pool on a recent visit to Kentucky. There’s a lot going on here, so I’m going to make a list. Here goes:

The pool - Growing up with a pool in the backyard probably was a huge contributor to my love for swimming. There is no better feeling than taking a dip in the water after sitting in the hot summer sun. Here’s the thing though: I’m not a particularly elegant swimmer. I have lots of stamina in the pool and can tread water for a very long time, but I never took swimming lessons. As a kid, my dad learned to swim when someone tossed him in a pond shouting, "you better learn!" He learned pretty quick, and many years later became my swim instructor. My dad never tossed me into the pool like that, but I never learned the proper techniques for all the different strokes. I also never learned how to dive properly. My siblings and I used to have daily pool contests: smallest splash, biggest splash, best dive, best flip, etc. I often won the biggest splash because my gangly limbs simply went everywhere. The same principle meant that I always had the ugliest dive. Imagine a frog jumping into the water. That’s pretty much how it looks. Swimming with me is undignified, which is what I love about the pool.

At a Loss for Words

Two posts in less than 24 hours. I know, right?

I’ve been thinking about words today. Words...language...communication...expression. All of those things have immeasurable worth to me. I am a teacher by trade, and clear communication is essential. I taught English for four years. When I got my first teaching job, I was told that part of the reason was because I was very articulate. Apart from my profession, I’m an avid reader and a good writer. Words...kind of a big deal.

Recently I’ve been exploring some tough issues with my counselor. It’s been a laborious battle, and one that I would often rather not fight. I feel weak and weary, and a bit lost. It’s changed my perception of my closest relationships and also my perception of who I am. It is both helpful and heartrending, all at the same time. There is no suitable metaphor, except to say that most days I feel as if I walk into her office, sit on the couch, and open a vein. Just when I think I’ve (mercifully) bled out, I find that there’s still much, much more blood that needs to be spilled. It feels never ending. It isn’t never ending, but it feels that way.

Listmania

Payton and I during my visit to Mayfield. She thinks her Uncle Missy is very entertaining. 

Hi. I’ve been busy.

I have some feet pictures to upload, but I’m currently visiting my in-laws in Louisville and I forgot the cord to my camera.

What have I been up to? So glad you asked.

1. Master’s classes - I took about two weeks and did literally nothing but write papers and lesson plans for the two classes I’m taking this summer. I was given all of the assignments for the entire summer, so I decided I would rather get them all done at once and not have it hanging over my head each week. I finished one class already, and have only one paper to go in the other.
2. Hanging out with friends - My friend Hannah moved to Chattanooga last week, so I spent a lot of time with her before they left town. I enjoy the freedom of summer; if a friend wants to get a drink at 10:00pm, I can do it without having to think about how tired I’ll be at school the next day. I’ve been doing a lot of spontaneous lunch/dinner/drink dates. It’s good to catch up with everyone.
3. Cleaning my house - I have two cats. They have fur. You see where this is heading.
4. Visiting family - I was in Mayfield last week to see friends and family, and I’m currently in Louisville. Mayfield was fun; I was able to see just about everyone in only one visit, which doesn’t often happen. The visit included food, drinks by the pool, blueberry picking with my friends, and time with my family.
5. Baking - I recently discovered an excellent cooking blog called "How Sweet It Is". I’ve been baking with some of her recipes. You can check it out here.

Events on the agenda for the rest of the summer:

1. Various medical appointments - I like to get these things out of the way during the summer so I don’t have to worry about them during the school year.
2. Visit to Houston - I gotta see my girl Liz.
3. Solitude retreat - This is just a possibility. I really want to do it, but feel like I’m running out of time. I have quite a bit on my mind and would love some quiet time in the woods to read, write, and pray. I hope to visit Mary the Font Solitude toward the end of the month.
4. A brief trip to Chattanooga - I think my friend Jonathan and I might go to see our friends Hannah and Adam. Perhaps.
5. Moving - God willing. I have a suspicion that this won’t actually happen until school starts. And likely on the hottest day of the year.
6. Seeing some movies - Bad Teacher, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, The Help, and Larry Crowne are on the list.

And at some point I need to figure out how I’m going to teach my school newspaper class. Meh.

And Then There Were None

Time for a little R&R.

Today was the last day of school for students. This means that it’s time for me to put my feet up for a bit, which is what I’m doing in this picture.

The end of the school year is always bittersweet for me. Mostly sweet, but there’s some bitterness in the mix as well. I love my job as a middle school teacher. I can’t imagine doing anything else. But as any teacher will tell you, it’s a tiring profession. Educating kids is hard. Loving them is even harder. Luckily, we have this nifty little thing called summer break to give us a brief reprieve.

I’ll miss the kids, of course. I had the opportunity to really get to know a couple of eighth grade girls, and it makes me a little sad that I won’t be seeing them regularly. It’s always hard to watch some of the eighth graders go, but go they must. They’ll keep in touch, and it will be interesting to see how their lives unfold. Next year we’ll have a brand new crop of kids just waiting to be stretched, challenged, and enjoyed...and the cycle continues. It’s a glorious thing. 

And in the meantime, I’m going to enjoy the summer sun!

The Lizzard in the Lou

 A picture of Liz's happy feet in Beirut, Lebanon

Last week, Liz came for a visit. It was a breath of fresh air. I took a picture of our feet together, but I'm not sure what happened to it. While she was here we went to a college graduation, cooked and ate a lot, and went for an epic tromp through Forest Park. While we were there, we saw 33 turtles, a really cool photo shoot, sunbathers in their underwear, and a gigantic black dog named Josh. It was a walk for the record books.

When I met Liz almost five years ago, Andy and I were new in St. Louis. I was intimidated by the process of finding a new community and had joined a small group to build relationships. Liz was already a member of that group, and I liked her immediately. Our first conversation was about the hilarity of working with college students, internationals to be precise. Her husband Todd is an accomplished storyteller, and that sucked me in right away. As Andy and I drove home from that night, I told him I wanted to spend more time with Todd and Liz. It was an instant connection. The four of us went on to become tremendous friends. We started a small group together. We cooked dinner together. We did dishes together. We road tripped. We dreamed. We walked dogs, and each other. Last year they moved to Texas, and it felt like one of my limbs had been removed. 

When I’m with Liz, I am the best version of myself. I feel the freedom to simply exist, and be enjoyed for who I am. There is no effort to be funny, witty, or clever. It’s refreshing. She is hopeful and compassionate; she’s the optimism to my cynicism. She doesn’t let me minimize negative experiences, and I don’t feel like I have to be a tough girl when I’m around her. What’s more, she isn’t afraid to wade into my crap with me. Sometimes I feel like I’m waist-deep in it and when I turn around, I realize that she’s helping me shovel myself out. When it became obvious that life was getting a little too crazy, she made me see a counselor. She literally sent an email to someone in the counseling office and CC’ed me in on it. I don’t know how long I would have let things go before I took that step for myself. She’s that kind of friend.

Liz is a good question-asker. Her questions are insightful and often help me get to the bottom of what I’m feeling. I usually have trouble describing emotions, but she can draw things out of me just with a few well-phrased inquiries. She also is good about narrating my thoughts back to me, which helps me to clarify my words to accurately express what I’m feeling. I don’t know of anyone who is better at this than Liz, other than maybe professional counselors. 

There is a special place in Liz’s heart for cheese, Southerners, dogs, California, my cats, Harry Potter, and processed food. She loves learning about other cultures, especially those in the Middle East; she’s passionate about learning what makes people tick. She sports purple-streaked hair with pride, and she has one of the best laughs I’ve ever heard. She’s one of my very best friends, and I love her.

Long Live the Queen

 Ms. A and I on my wedding day

Sandi Armstrong Addison, my dear friend, mentor, and teacher passed away on Saturday. About 18 months ago the woman we all affectionately called Ms. A had a stroke that seriously affected her speech. She recovered, but started experiencing other major health problems about a month ago. They discovered that she had advanced liver cancer on Wednesday, and she died on Saturday morning. It was, and still is, absolutely unbelievable.

Ms. A was one of the wisest people I’ve ever known. Just about any time she offered an opinion on something, I took it for granted that she was right. For her to be wrong about something of any importance was almost unthinkable. She used to tell us all the time that she was never going to die, and I guess I believed her. I mean, I really did.

While making plans for the funeral service, I was asked to write a couple paragraphs about Ms. A’s legacy. I was happy to do it, but we all understood that it was a ludicrous task. First of all, I’ve been accused of many things in my life, but being brief isn’t one of them. Second, this woman was a force. Her legacy isn’t something that one can put into words. I can say with 100% certainty that I wouldn’t be where I am today without her influence. I might not even be a Christian, which is the basis of my entire identity. How was I supposed to write about that?

The Royal Wedding Meets the Kentucky Derby

When my lifelong goal of attending the Kentucky Derby is finally realized, I'm going all out and looking for knock-offs of one of these two hats. They make me laugh...unlike several of the other hats at the Royal Wedding, which made me cringe.

Breaking the Statue of Secrecy

Why yes, that is a chocolate frog behind my foot. Thank you for asking.

On March 24, my happy feet took me to Universal Studios in Orlando, Florida, where I managed to spend around eight hours in the Wizarding World of Harry Potter park. I guess I should say “we”, because I did this together with Windy, my BFF from college.

Windy introduced me to the literary masterpiece that is the Harry Potter series when we were sophomores in college. She picked it up while recovering from surgery and promptly passed it on to me. Ten years later, I was given tickets to the theme park for my 30th birthday. Andy and I planned the trip to Florida, and it turned out that Seth and Windy were able to take some time away from their jobs as campus ministers to join us. As luck would have it, our trip fell during the week of Windy’s 30th birthday as well. It seemed only fitting that we should experience the park together.

Suffice it to say that the we let our Harry Potter Nerd Factor grow to a level that would have been socially unacceptable in any other environment. I’m not going to describe the whole thing because this isn’t a travel blog, and the Nerd Factor isn’t for the faint of heart. The nutshell version is that the park was wonderful. The attention to detail was extraordinary, the rides were thrilling, and the technology made everything extremely realistic. Even the food was superb. Over the course of the day we had shepherd’s pie, cornish pasties, fish and chips, and of course Butterbeer and pumpkin juice.

But honestly, the time with Windy was the thing that made the day absolutely perfect, and not just because she enjoys Harry Potter. Windy and I get each other in a way that means we don’t have to do a lot of explaining. We share a love for literature, funny stories, people, and ministry. I understand her passion for campus ministry. She understands my passion for Australia. We both have a similar love/hate relationship with fundraising. We don’t have to tone down our biting sarcasm around one another (not that we ever tone it down for others). She didn’t mind my need to take pictures of every single thing. I didn’t mind her need to stay out of the sun. I can talk to Windy about literally anything, which is unusual for me. I’m normally a slow starter where deep conversation is concerned.

Harry Potter. Good friends. Butterbeer mustaches. Life doesn’t get much better than that.

Kayaking

Kayaking makes my feet happy.

Last month Andy and I took a vacation to Florida. It was glorious. I don’t want to get into it too much because I took several pictures of my happy little feet, so there will be several posts that involve this trip. Anyway, on our second day we visited Weeki Wachee Springs State Park, where we rented a tandem kayak and took a little trip down the river. In the few hours that we spent on that beautiful river, I made an important discovery about myself:

I love kayaking.

It was so peaceful. Being in such a tiny little boat puts you very close to the water. I think it’s probably the closest you can get without actually swimming. The water was so clear that you could see straight to the bottom, and the wildlife along the way was plentiful. It was wonderful for Andy and I to have time together where our conversation wasn’t dominated by what we needed to accomplish that day, or what time we would each be home, or what we needed to buy at the grocery, etc. Not having a phone, iPod, or laptop attached to our hips was pretty nice too.   

I imagine that kayaking isn’t necessarily the best activity for people watching, but there was plenty of that on this trip. And let me tell you, these people were interesting. Sometimes they were obnoxious. Sometimes their swimwear was inappropriate. Sometimes they had incredibly awkward conversations despite the fact that my husband and I were in a small vessel only a few feet away. But ultimately, they were all really nice people who were there for the same reason as us: to enjoy each other, and to enjoy the great outdoors. And honestly, these people were very interesting. One older gentleman commented that gas prices wouldn’t be an issue if someone would invent a car that could run on his excess ear wax. Another young girl squealed every time she saw a bug. Keep in mind that we were in Florida. In the spring. On the water. All of those variables equal up to the fact that there were a lot of bugs...and lots of squealing.

Despite the squeaky, bug-fearing adolescent, Andy and I had a wonderful time. We couldn’t believe how much we enjoyed ourselves. I guess we had such high expectations for the rest of our week, that something as simple as kayaking didn’t seem like it would be such an amazing thing. But it was. It SO was. The tranquility and time together was a much-needed respite from our crazy lives. I see a lot more kayaking in our future.

Blogging = Hope

Thanks to despair.com for providing me with what I feel is a suitable picture for my first post.

If you know me at all, you know my fear of blogging. The pressure. The writing up of all the minutia of my day. The public typos. The confirmation that I’m not a great writer. The fact that now EVERYONE will know that I overuse the words “very”, “really”, and “actually”.

But still...I want a blog. Many of my friends live far away from me, and blogs seem to be a practical way to maintain a line of communication. Maintaining friendships is important, you know? I feel like I probably have more baggage than the average person, so if I let you see my dirty laundry we are friends for life. I think blogging might help long-distance friendships.

The thing that really gets me is the pressure I feel to write once the blog has been established. What if I don’t have anything to say? I don’t want to be someone who writes a bunch of useless junk just to say I’ve updated the blog. I also don’t want to be someone who never updates. What’s a girl to do? (I know, I know...I’m over-thinking it. I can’t help it. It’s what I do.)

That’s where the happy feet idea comes in. While on vacation in Florida, I got the idea that I could take pictures of my feet in places that make me happy. Then I could post those pictures on a blog, which would provide a platform for me to write as much or as little as I want. It gives me something to post about, and it also encourages me to be emotionally present enough to realize I’m doing something that makes me happy. I’ve spent most of my life feeling relatively numb, so being emotionally present is challenging for me. And risky. And terrifying.

But this happy feet thing? This is something I can do. I’m sure that sometimes it will be gritty and dark, because I’m gritty and dark. And I’m certain that it will be funny, because I’m funny. In the end, I just want it to be real, and hopeful. Not because that’s who I am all the time, but because that’s who I want to be.