A Public Apology

to all my English teachers through the years...

I am sorry for my addiction to entertainment and my lack of appreciation for the assignments you gave, which were designed to maximize my understanding and appreciation of the lessons to be learned from a work, as well as the skill of the author.

So, I read The Scarlet Letter with my class this term, and had a great time doing so. I'd never read the book before, so it was an exciting read.  We didn't do many activities as we read- I think it detracts from the reading experience sometimes.  Afterwards, I simply held a week of round table discussion on the book and lessons we can take from it.  So Monday through Thursday, we rearranged Classroom B into a circle of 13 desks and settled in to discuss, debate, and dissect The Scarlet Letter.  This is the type of activity my students have been begging for.  They think I treat them childishly and don't give them the chance to think and be adults. So I embarked on this week-long experimental journey. I felt like it went really well. The students did enjoy the discussion.  During the week I also had them write a journal entry on a character flaw/sin struggle in themselves, and design a scarlet letter coinciding with the fault to wear around school one day.  I thought this was a really interesting way to get inside Hester Prynn's head.  So, assignments being minimalistic in work and maximizing the value of independent thought, I felt we were on the right track. We spent a whole week talking about ways this book relates to our lives, ways we can reach out to "the least of these" and ways we are all too often like the Puritans in the novel.

Friday, students turned in a reflection journal on their experiences.  By and large the response was as follows: The book didn't have enough action, isn't all that applicable to our lives, and the letter-wearing experience was ineffective.  (I'll give them credit, they all enjoyed the discussion format, at least for a while.)

*cue sigh of exhausted, confused teacher*

And so, I recall the popular saying, "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him drink."

I really love teaching these kids. I really love these kids. I really love literature. And sometimes, at the end of the day, I still get this feeling that I'm failing across the board.

Is it like that for everyone?  I mean, is this a common experience for teachers?  Did I torture my poor teachers with statements like, "this isn't applicable in today's world,"or, "they talk to much," or, "I just couldn't connect with it"?  I guess I probably did.

But that is why, today, I would like to apologize.  To Mrs. Brumley, Mrs. Upton, Mrs. Walters , Mr. Hinton, Mrs. Lassiter, Dr. Miller, Dr. Randle, Dr. Harding, and several others I probably plagued with my complaints- I apologize. I now understand. And if it makes you feel better, my scarlet letter was L for lazy. As if we didn't all know it.  Dr. Randle being at the top of the list of those who can testify to the truth of that assessment.

And that's my rant for today. Back to the books, now. Gotta figure out our next route to the water...

μένω

I was reading through John 15 this week with a friend, chatting about what God has to say to us with this passage.
"What do you think it means to abide in Christ?" he asked me.

I thought for a minute, remembering the times I've translated this verse from the Greek text. μένω (meno) is the word used, meaning stay, or wait, or even continue.

"Dwell there," I responded. "Live in Him. No back and forth. He's home."

"For in him we live and move and have our being." (Acts 17:28)
So whether I'm just going through daily life, whether I'm on the move, transitioning and changing, or whether I'm simply being...
It's in Him.
I'm in Him.
He is my home.
I'm home.

"As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. Abide in my love." (John 15:9)

RomCom Problems

So there's this guy...
How many conversations in my life have started like that!
Don't get all excited, all of you matchmakers out there. This isn't Allison's confession of undying love for someone. It's not even a confession of a crush.  Sorry to disappoint.
But I've been thinking, and I think the Romantic Comedy genre has really ruined us girls. The guys in the movies are always so perfect, ya know? But I'm ahead of myself...

So let me describe to you what I mean.  Here's a scenario I (and I'm sure many others of you out there) have found yourself in. (Or maybe it's just me...)  Ya meet this cute guy, and a few weeks later, discover he does indeed love Jesus. A good start, right?  So ya get to know him a little better (easily done at college), and a fun little crush begins to develop.  Some time goes by, and you start to suspect he's a little interested too.  You know him pretty well now- you've been around him a good bit, seen him in different environments, and perhaps even had some one-on-one time.  Of course you've gotta share the spark with your friends, and you start thinking the whole thing over in your head.  As girls, our minds jump to a marriage and family place. (I'm rolling my eyes at how ridiculous we can be.  Just know that.)  And so begins the debate.

You've been heard your whole life things like, "Don't settle. He must love Jesus more than anything else ever, and he better treat you like the perfect little princess you are.  Make sure he'll be a good daddy, and if you ever see his eyes wandering, run away fast.  How does he treat his mother? Have you ever heard him say anything inappropriate?  Does he make you laugh? Make sure he fights fair.  How many girls has he dated?" etc etc etc etc etc.

So you start thinking through all these things.  Well, he's smart, he's cute, he loves Jesus a lot.  He cares about missions. He has some family problems, maybe.  Does that mean he's gonna be a bad dad?  What if his dad's crazy? That's bad news, right?  Well...that's the first negative. Let's keep going. He treats you really well. Maybe he forgets to open the door here and there, but he is very protective. You've never seen wandering eyes, but you know he thinks Beyonce's hot. Is that okay?  And he told you about when he used to mess around with porn. That's not great, hm...? But I mean, don't most guys struggle with that?  Well, I've heard him make some slightly inappropriate jokes with the guys. Uh oh...Maybe this isn't looking so great.  He always makes me laugh, always makes me smile....He doesn't bring me flowers when we fight. He doesn't come up with some cute song or poem for me every time I'm sad.  But he values my happiness.  He makes sacrifices for me.

And so it begins...the struggle...
Is he good enough?  Is he not good enough?
What if...
He's not always romantic. He sometimes forgets to text me back.  He doesn't tell me all day every day how beautiful I am. Sometimes he says the wrong thing at the wrong time.  Sometimes he's awkward.  Sometimes he wears this ugly shirt.  Sometimes he doesn't get my jokes.  Sometimes he gets unnecessarily jealous.  Sometimes he isn't Tom Hanks in "You've Got Mail" or even Mr. Darcy. Sometimes he isn't perfect.

And at this rate, no guy is ever gonna be good enough.

Now, I understand that my daddy insists the previous statement is true.  And I'm not saying at all that we girls should "settle."  Whatever that means.

I'm just saying...well...I'm not perfect. Sometimes I'm controlling. Sometimes I'm rude. Sometimes I'm mean.  Sometimes I'm ridiculously jealous. Sometimes I'm needy.  I struggle with habitual sins. I pretend to get jokes that are over my head. Sometimes I'm obnoxiously nosy.  Sometimes I am selfish and conceited and unkind and sometimes my love for Jesus isn't nearly as passionate as it should be and sometimes I wonder if it's even safe for me to have kids, seeing as how all I can cook them is mac and cheese, pancakes, and spaghetti!  I legitimately question things like, "what if I get tired of my children?".

So...
Here's to you, imperfect someone.  The guy out there who will put up with my ridiculousness.  The man who loves Jesus and still regularly screws up.  Hope you're okay with "settling" for less than perfect.  Hope you've made a few mistakes, because I sure have.  Hope you aren't Tom Hanks, cause I'm no Meg Ryan.  Hope we get our happily ever after, with tons of problems to work through, and lots of fighting, fair or unfair.  Hope Christ's love will get us through it all, and bring joy and laughter and a lifetime of imperfect learning together. 

Honesty

I have a confession.

Last night, I laid in my bed and (in my head) yelled out all my complaints to God. I screamed at Him. I told him I wasn't okay with all the things going on in my life lately. I cried and complained and poured out my heart to my Heavenly Father. I told him how angry I was that things weren't going my way and how scared I was to give Him control. (I realize the idea that I have to "give" God control is silly, but sometimes emotions make us a little illogical.)

I fell asleep angry and begging for rest.

I woke up rested.

If you read Jon Acuff's blog today, this will sound like a rip-off, but I swear I was thinking it already. But sometimes I feel like I have to be so...proper? with Jesus.  I feel like I should pray politically correctly. I spent a lot of time trying to say things so God won't be angry with me or think I'm rude and ungrateful. (Newsflash: I am! But that's kinda beside the point.)  I'm really good with language. I use words to make me look good, to get what I want, to work situations out to my benefit... and sometimes I think that process will work with Jesus. If I just say things in the right way, He won't get mad at me. He'll like my prayers more. He'll like ME more!
Again, I realize this is stupid, but... I bet you do it too. Or maybe you don't.

Last night all reserves were gone. Last night I quit trying to impress God.  Last night raw emotions took over.  I'm not saying that yelling at God is a good idea. He reminded me of that whole conversation he had with Job about how I wasn't around when he formed the earth and so what right had I to accuse Him of making me miserable?

I feel like this is a really big step for me though. I've never been quite so honest with God. But I like this. I love realizing that I can tell Him anything. I mean, I knew that before...but...now I KNOW it. I've experienced it. I feel it.

I'm rambling. But I needed someone to know.
Progress is happening. Jesus still loves me. I still love Him. And I'm honest with Him now. And He's giving me rest, despite my idiocy.
That's amazing. That's grace. That's my Jesus.

I can't get no...

"I can tell you're pretty restless," he said to me, from the other side of the world. "I hate that for you."

"I think it's my own fault," I replied. "I could be satisfied if..."

And therein lies the problem. The "if".

I could be satisfied if only....
I were prettier?
I had a boyfriend?
I had more money?
I could make a trip home?
I had more friends?
my students worked harder?
my job were easier?
people were nicer?
there weren't so many rumors?
the power would stay on?
I could take a shower?
I didn't have to be up so early?
I could have a turkey sandwich?

I mean...what's it gonna be today? What conditions am I going to put on my obedience? What limitations will I put on His promises?  What additions will I require from my God who has already given all?

"Rejoice in the Lord, always! I'll say it again- Rejoice!"
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
"I came that (you) may have life, and have it more abundantly."


I'm an idiot for imagining that I could want anything more.
If I'm looking elsewhere, I'll never be satisfied. I'll never find what I'm looking for. I may sometimes settle for cheap imitations of satisfaction. I may be temporarily pleased with my new haircut or today's outfit or a new relationship or even something as simple as a turkey sandwich. But it's fake. It's flawed. I'm worshipping the gift and not the Giver.  Only He can bring me joy. Only He will ever satisfy me.
He is enough.
I am only satisfied in You, Jesus.

Oh, wretched man that I am

I was reading this book called Bruchko with my 9th graders. It's a fantastic read. I highly recommend it. Not very literary, but very spiritually enriching.
So I was reading this book and we were talking in class about the part of the book where Bruce, missionary to a "stone age" South American people group who had never spent any significant amount of time with an outsider without killing them.  Pretty intense stuff.

Bruce is a really super guy, and he spends a lot of time with these people, even after they try to kill him. So after he's been there for a year or so and has learned the language, he starts searching for a way to introduce the gospel. He knows it can't be something that happens in his own timing, so he's really patient. Eventually God opens a door through an old prophecy and an old tradition in their culture, and he's able to tell these 4 guys the story of Jesus. They've never heard of this, and they are absolutely THRILLED beyond belief when they find that God became a man so that they could learn to walk in His path. They wanna know where to find Him so they can follow Him. So Bruce tells them.

"You killed him."
They panic.
"He was buried."
They despair.

All hope is lost. The light at the end of the tunnel is eclipsed. The possibility of being found is gone.
They weep.

Now, because Bruce is a good guy He explains that Jesus was resurrected and that's proof that He's God, and we can still learn to walk in His path. Things end well for the Motilone people, though the process is a long and painful one full of suffering and loss. It ends in hope and life and love.

But I was captivated by this story. I am moved each time I think of it.  It keeps coming back to mind. I can't stop imagining the hopelessness they felt at hearing Bruce's simple statement.
I'm frustrated this week with the essential sin nature of us despicable humans.  We're miserably sinful from top to bottom, inside, out. I've seen so much jealousy and apathy and gossip and slander and vengefulness and selfishness. And I see it all in myself, too. It's just been a long week of feeling like I'm only seeing the worst of people, and it's only bringing out the worst in me.  And I just wanna echo Paul's despairing cry, "O, wretched man that I am!"  Who will save me? Who can rescue me? Who is my deliverer?
I killed Him.
What have I done?

Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!! He has made a way!! There is hope, there is peace, there is love, there is rest, there is assurance, there is life. He has found me.
I'm no longer a slave. This body of death has been ripped away, and new life has begun.

Thanks be to God.
He has made a way.
Sin is conquered.
I'm not a slave to this.
I am free.
I am His. He is mine.

Thanks be to God. 

Life...and other mysteries

     I attempt to keep things new and exciting here on the blog, but I have to admit- life is seeming pretty normal these days. It's actually pretty nice. It was a joy to come back to such great friends who love us and support us. School has been pretty normal. If you hadn't heard, I'm teaching 8th-11th grade English, as well as a journalism/newspaper elective. It's a busier year in a lot of ways, but having a year of experience gives me a world of an advantage over last year. I'm enjoying things so far, though I seem to be perpetually behind. I'm told that's pretty much how life works as a teacher. Always something else to do- more to grade, more to prepare. I do feel better prepared though, and I feel like I'm doing a better job in terms of teaching the material I'm supposed to cover this year. On the other hand, I am struggling to find balance- though I want to be a good English teacher, I want just as much to be a great mentor and spiritual influence in my students' lives. Our headmaster pointed out recently that sometimes all we need to do is ASK God to make us a good teacher. That's something I've been working on and thinking about and praying about. I really want to be a good teacher, and I realize that even in something that seems so dependent on me, I am wholly dependent on Christ.
     I've been struggling a lot lately with independence. I really want to be independent. I really want to be worthy. I really want to be a self-made wonder woman. I'm not really sure where this craziness is coming from. I don't know why I feel this need. I'm still working through it. I think typing it here, letting you (whoever you may be) see it, helps me understand it more. I've been trying so hard to be good enough. I'm not sure who I'm trying to impress- I think only myself.  I don't want to be needy. I know I am, but for some reason that makes me feel bad. I do want to be liked. I want to be valued; I want to be loved. I want to be happy. I want to feel fulfilled.
     I realize this is idiotic. I realize I'm helpless. But something in me is still fighting it with all I'm worth. Why can't I be the perfect teacher and the perfect friend and the perfect girlfriend (a real challenge, since I'm single), the perfect friend, the perfect Christian, the perfect employee, the perfect missionary...and I want to do it alone. I don't want help, I don't want weakness, I don't want pain...

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."
   
Even when I don't want it to be...
That's grace.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tl219pH6Tpw