Realizations on the VA/NC border

About a month ago, I went to visit the wonderful Kari Burgess in her new town of Winston-Salem, North Carolina. Passing into North Carolina from Virginia, you wind down the side of a mountain with the most gorgeous valley view. It was another instance of catching my breath in the Blue Ridge Mountains; and for the first time I understood why.

There are too many things in life that shout at us that God couldn't exist, or that his character isn't what we hope for. We are surrounded by broken things: relationships, insecurities, pain, people. The lies of the world strive to convince us that there's no way God could exist or be good. Often times, I find myself "convinced". I am bogged down by the brokenness and the lies.

And then I find myself in the mountains. In the midst of all the chaos and the rush of life, I breathe easy. I think it's because, on that winding drive down the mountain, everything whispered here He is and He is good! Something about being surrounded by the beauty of his creation makes him so obvious, so close, so real.

Grateful

I may gripe about my life at times; the unknown, the lack of roots, the ever changing plan. Ultimately, however, I have to admit I live quite the spoiled life. I have some of the best friends out there, both here in Cincinnati and in a splattering of eastern cities (and a few just out on their own in other places). They care for me well by singing happy birthday across the pond, inscribing page after page of a book with personal notes, and making time in Vegas to spend a night eating ice cream. I also have had lots of opportunities to explore different avenues. Sure, that means I get frustrated with the lack of roots and occasionally it means I feel restless, but it also means I meet tons of fun people and try lots of different opportunities. Perhaps with the rest of my September, I will work on being grateful for the good life. Because that is definitely what I live.

Sweethearts

I finished my first book of the summer and it was marvelous. Seeing as I teach high school English, I love the YA section of the library. So, I will recommend Sweetheartsto you and convince you with this snippet. It's pretty good. (Also I love writing that is similar in style to my thinking, and I like to think I could've thought this. Granted I probably could not have expressed it so well.)

Sometimes I think about how there are certain people who come into your life, and leave a mark.
I don't mean the usual faint impression: he was cute, she was nice, they made me laugh, I wish I'd known her better, I remember the time she threw up in class.
And I don't just mean that they change you. A lot of people can change you -- the first kid who called you a name, the first teacher who said you were smart, the first person who crowned you best friend. It's the change you remember, the firsts and what they meant, not really the people.
I'm talking about the ones who, for whatever reason, are as much a part of you as your own soul. Their place in your heart is tender; a bruise of longing, a pulse of unfinished business. Just hearing their names pushes and pulls at you in a hundred ways, and when you try to define those hundred ways, describe them even to yourself, words are useless. If you had a lifetime to talk, there would still be things left unsaid.
The pulse of unfinished business still beats while life unfurls; days, weeks, months.
In the end, I decide that the mark we've left on each other is the color and shape of love. That's the unfinished business between us.
Because love, love is never finished. It circles and circles, the memories out of order and not always complete.

Bronco and Kona

I just spent a week and a half dog/apt sitting for a new friend. Let's just say I'm not ready to be responsible for another living being; I'm just not mature/selfless enough. I am walking away, however, with a bit of perspective. I haven't really taken care of anyone/anything in a long time. It's just been me. It's been me bumbling around and, if anything, being taken care of by others. But these past weeks, I had to be selfless.

I know you're probably thinking, Mandy, that doesn't count. I would like to say, however, that it does. I had to make sacrifices and not do things I wanted to do. I hadn't been to the gym in all that time until this morning. When I got home after school, which had to be at a certain time so as to prevent accidents, I was in for the night. When Bronco was sick, I had to clean up after him. (And I definitely called my mom like a proud parent when he stopped getting sick.) For two weeks, I was a responsible adult.

Today, I picked up said new friend at the airport. While I will miss those dogs, today was fun post 6pm because it was just me to take care of all over again. And that's nice.

One day though, I'll be ready. One day I will be mature enough to constantly put someone else before myself. (Although I'd like to think I'll still be able to sleep in on the weekends.)

Stolen words from Kevin Bacon

Okay, the words aren't really from Kevin Bacon. I found these marvelous words on the blog of a friend of a friend; which made me think of seven degrees of separation, which clearly leads to Kevin Bacon. All that to say, I read this and my heart sighed. It found a kindred spirit in Mr. Bacon. Therefore, I will let the words "he" wrote speak for my heart...


We are running marathons. Nothing is a sprint except an actual sprint.

And yet, I think in terms of sprints. I think short-term, I think here and now and do little to consider the future. I do it with relationships, friendships, finances and more; whatever feels good now is what I'll do. I distill my world to 140 character status updates, and do not consider the punctuation marks I use may not be correct. The place I put a period may be where God wanted a semicolon, changing what I thought was an end into merely a pause. I don't look far enough ahead to understand the difference.

The question I struggle with is how am I to learn to live a marathon life in a world that thinks in sprints?

I want to train to pace myself, to work up to the hills and stretch the parts of me that get overworked along the way. I want to understand that the blisters I get are not because I'm a terrible person or a failure, but because I am a person who is running and blisters happen to runners. In the marathon world, I must pay close attention to what I take in and where I'm going. If I'm to run the race marked out for me, training for the long-distance and not the immediate future is the difference between standing at the finish line and giving up before I can see it.

The Longest Nine Short Weeks

Today marks the first day of the last quarter. I have 9 weeks of school left in my first year of teaching. And just like when I was a student, it is going by all too fast and all too slow. I could not have had a better orientation to the teaching profession than I have had this past year. Between the people I work with and the kids I get to invest in, this has been wonderful; challenging but wonderful. I have had days when I sit in my chair at the dismissal bells and marvel at how wonderful this profession is. On the other hand, there have been days that I would not relive again for all the money in the world.

All this to say, I have nine weeks with these students. Sure, some of them (Molly) I will never "get rid of". We have already planned wonderful travels for all of her graduations. But there are other students that I have for the next nine weeks and that is it. That is the mindset that I am trying to keep when they are driving me up a wall; all I get are these next nine weeks. Any vision or hope I can speak into their lives, I better do it now. Encouragement I want to give them, confidence I can build up, all of that has to be done now. I don't get a second chance with them. So tomorrow, when I feel like I did in fifth bell and I want to kick half of the class out, I will attempt instead to pull kids aside and cast vision for what school could be. I know, that sounds so nerdy. But, for some of my students, it could be the one time that someone stops yelling and instead invests, speaks vision, and calls them to more and better. And that could make these nine weeks priceless.

A Team Training

There is something to the air in Virginia that makes it easier to breathe. Something about the blue of the mountains that makes the stress fade away. I was just able to spend three days in Virginia with some of my favorite people in the world. I was able to bask in the love of those people. There is very little that I needed more this week than that. To share my life with friends and family, to be encouraged in the ministry, to prepare for what is to come this summer.

I can't help but look at these mountains (that I sadly did not get to hike this trip) and see how great my God is. It is at times like that, even if it is just a picture, that I am reassured of my future. What it entails, well I don't know that. But I do know that it will be something designed to glorify him, and I can't say I've ever been angry about that.

Corbin, KY

I met a boy when I was about 13. He almost mowed down a woman trying to walk backwards to see me and my friends. I was a goner.
Through the years, we have somehow managed to stay in touch. Despite the fact that we once scheduled IM "dates" and had to buy long-distance phone cards, we kept up. The four hour drive, sometimes shorter although now longer, didn't keep us from meeting up. And now, roughly 13 years later, we are still friends. And on top of that, he has grown up to be an amazing man who loves the Lord. He took time today, in the midst of his chaos, to comfort and reassure me. That is the kind of friend that everyone wants, but we can rarely find. One who, in the middle of their own storms, step away to speak calm truth into ours. I'm glad that I have this friend. I'm glad that as an immature 13 year old girl, I somehow spotted a boy who would turn into this kind of man.

Swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon

My kids and I are reading Shakespeares "Romeo & Juliet". We've just finished the balcony scene where Juliet asks Romeo not to swear by the moon because it is inconstant, lest his love prove likewise.

So when I turned out the lights tonight, I couldn't help but stare out the moon shining in my window. It's a bit less than a half moon and while I marveled at how insightful Shakespeares character was, I also marveled at the moon itself.

You see, while I'm not a science person, it fascinates me that we see the moon because of the sun. It's only because the sun reflects it's light off the moon that we even see this rock in the sky. How similar it is to think about my relationship with Christ; especially in ministry. I have no light source of my own to offer anyone. Nothing I do would ever make me better or more useful. It is only when Christ reflects off of me that I give people light. Imagine a night with a full moon. That's a lot of light; which really means that's a lot of reflecting. Those tiny sliver nights though, that's usually what I'm like. How wonderful it would be if every day was a full moon kind of day.