One down, one to go.

I have a job. Sigh of relief. While it's not full time, it's a job. One that pays well, is challenging, and seems like it's going to be a whole LOT OF fun. Tomorrow, I turn in all my paperwork to begin substitute teaching in the Finneytown district. At the same time, I'll be finding out if they're possibly hiring another building substitute. While not ideal in the sense that it's a "real job" (year round pay, with benefits), it gives me a job every school day and it gets me back into a school.

I had lunch at Lakota today and my heart ached to be in a classroom again. I knew I wanted to do it. I searched for teaching jobs all summer. They didn't work out. I looked for other jobs. But walking back into that classroom where I taught for three months, I just longed to have a class full of kids in there. I wanted to coax them into enjoying poetry, explore settings with them, augh!, just everything that I got to do in those three months that made it all so worth it.

So maybe tomorrow, that journey will begin again. And maybe I will continue to wait, patiently..sort of, for the Lord to make his plans clear.

Garbage and Leaves Abound

Despite the fact that I live in Ohio, we got the joy of some of the hurricane yesterday. My mom, a weather addict for those of you who didn't know, called me before we left for the game to forewarn that the forecast included chances of rain, strong winds, and tornados. Now, while most of Cincinnati might not agree, those things would not stop me from going to a game. I love the Bengals far too fiercely to let something small like tornados come between me and my 8 games.

While the game started out quite sunny, and remained fairly hot, the wind picked up a lot during the second quarter. Breezy... not exactly. I have never seen so much garbage swirling in my life. I was hit in the face with more peanut shells than I care to remember. I may or may not have had a drunk high school classmate of mine come down the stairs, screaming at the players in the aisle next to me. (yes, I know, it has nothing to do with the wind, but it was wildly entertaining once I guaranteed Jeni was not going to scold him.) My favorite wind example was the broken down Miller Lite box which flew and landed under a player (mere seconds before the ball was snapped). It was crazy.

That being sad, nothing prepared me for the craziness that was going on outside of the stadium. Cincinnati got winds up to 75 mph. Trees are littering the streets. The billies next door, well their siding flew off the side of their house. (revealing what I think is beautiful brick, but I guess the whole "house falling apart" thing never really makes people excited). I attempted to go on a bike ride around the neighborhood today, only to find numerous streets blocked by police tape because of trees and downed wires. Pandaemonium I tell you.

But sometimes, this can lead to fun. Sally and Seth hung out for awhile before we had to light the candles. Then me and the couple played disney/pixar monopoly by candlelight. (so romantic.) It was probably my favorite night back home. So I guess the wind wasn't so bad after all.

One week in

I'm here. The move is over. The dust has settled, and my feet are firmly planted. Planted on what, though, is in the air.

Don't get me wrong, I've got my foundation on Christ. I mean, with this big move, this life change (yes, even though it's coming back to Cincinnati, it's still a huge life change), I'm floundering for what it is exactly I'm standing on. I continue to be oddly picky and prideful with job choices despite the lack thereof. I still find myself putting all my hope in the mere mention of a job possibility. The second I hear their could be an opening with something I would like to do, I imagine my life. I think about the commute to work, my co-workers, what my day would look like. And then I get the call, the email; whatever means of communication, it's all the same..We're going in a different direction.

I'm here. And yet nothing is really settled.

I found myself reading through the old blogs, laughing to myself that I couldn't seem to keep this going. As I read the words I had written just months ago, I wondered where that girl went. Somehow, in the uncertainty that summer and the move brought, I lost that girl. She was confident. In her abilities which would land her a job that would be glorifying to the Lord. In the Lord, that He would provide that opportunity in His perfect timing. I've been too prideful in my searchings. The confidence I had in those posts didn't disappear when a job opportunity went south. Instead, it bucked up. It clung to the promises of the Lord. So I will write the words again that so convicted me tonight:

i long for the day when i will stop planning for the next stop to arrive. when i will stop searching my bags for a map and instead press my face eagerly against the window awaiting the scenery he has planted for me to enjoy while i ride.

Milestones

I have been thinking a lot lately about the milestones in our lives that we put our hope in. What we're going to do with our lives, where we're going to do it, who we're going to do it with. So often we, at least i do, put hope in these things and promise to make more time for the Lord once these things are settled.

When i finally start my job, my routine will be more normal. I'll make time for the Lord then.
Once I move, I'll finally be settled and will find a church that actually feeds me and gives me fellowship.
When I meet the right person, I'll know what your love is really supposed to look like and will be able to show it to others.

Why don't our hearts think, "my hope is in you. if that means i sit in a box doing nothing in the middle of nowhere with no one and all i have is you, that's enough. sitting in a box alone, praising and worshipping you is enough."

why do we count on plans and hopes instead of living in what he has granted us today in the here and now? i long for the day when i will stop planning for the next stop to arrive. when i will stop searching my bags for a map and instead press my face eagerly against the window awaiting the scenery he has planted for me to enjoy while i ride.

where is home?

It's funny how whenever I talk about Cincinnati, I still call it home. Yet, every time I talk about Lexington, I also call this home. There are so many aspects of home in both places that more and more I feel torn between the two. I've started thinking lately about what life will look like after September, when I'm okay to leave from my housekeeping job. What are my options, where will those lead me?..These questions have been on my mind continuously.

Lexington has more advantages that I can think to list, but especially recently. Since returning from Thailand, I've gotten to spend a lot more time with Kari. (She returned..not me) We have started going to a new church that we both love and we also started going to a new biblestudy in roanoke. Needless to say, we're having fun. Those two things plus the fact that I get to do them with Kari, and what they have helped build in our friendship, are reason enough to stay. Then I could list off the other kids, house dinner, joel's birthday (I mean, how could I leave Sherri?) This has very much become home, and yet it'll always be this place that takes me away from home.

Home has always been Cincinnati. I am not sure I could love a city any more than I do this one. Aside from all of that, my family is there; and as you all know, I am absurdly close with my family. Not only family, but I have some amazing friends there as well, the community just looks different. I wouldn't have spaghetti night on mondays, house dinner with 8 of my friends every tuesday, book study with Lucy on wednesdays...enough said. my life would look very different. fellowship would probably be a bit harder to find. But would having to work for fellowship really be that bad of a thing? wouldn't it be good to practice this before life really hands me a busy schedule?

Home is never far away, I guess, is the moral of the story. I am lucky enough to have two homes. The only time I'm far away is when I'm half way in between (oh charleston, wv), torn between the two places my heart has found rest.

in the air

sometimes life isn't anything like we imagined as kids. when i was a child, i always thought i would meet my husband in high school (or at least college), we would get married the saturday after graduation, i would teach until I started popping out children, and we'd live happily ever after. this is not a joke. i seriously thought this. sure, some ideas changed a bit as I grew up; i wanted foster kids instead of my own, maybe i'd meet him a bit later... i can tell you one thing. i didn't think i'd be 23, single as a 90 calorie pack of fake oreos, and pondering what my career goals for the next 5 years are.

but lets just say God enjoys irony. I have no clue what i'm doing with my life. i am confident, however, that life is on the upswing. i'm growing up in the disappointments that i'm running into. not getting a job opens up the possibilities to send your resume to geoff hobsen with the hope that you might write for bengals.com someday. not getting the job opens up finding a different job in lexington and watching the community change in that way.

i'm not sure i could, in one day, fully flush out all of the opportunities that are now available because i didn't get a job i wanted. funny, that for as many times as i flippantly say it, the Lord truly is sovereign. and as i wrote in my first post, He has always given me everything i need exactly when i need it, even if i don't want it.

Start being fans

After the rallying season of 2005, the Cincinnati Bengals had their 2006 season explained away with suspensions and knee braces. Everyone, myself included put their hope in this season.

2007 will be our year. You could hear it echoing off the Ohio River as thousands poured into Paul Brown Stadium. The city was alive as Monday Night Football kicked off the season in the Queen City and as the Bengals brought home the win. While the team struggled a bit on offense, we all headed to work on Tuesday with our heads held high, trusting that the necessary adjustments would be made by Sunday against the Browns.

It didn’t take long, though, for Anderson and the rest of the Browns to encourage those bandwagon Bengals fans to don their brown paper bags, scurrying out of the stadium with four minutes left in the game. Not only do Cincinnatians seem to be questioning their team, but the national media is having a field day. Even in Virginia, where I have since moved, I was still bombarded with article after article, broadcaster after broadcaster saying our team was imploding; saying Chad Johnson was just too selfish to help this team.

Here’s where my heart starts to break, and maybe it’s because I have a love for this team and it’s players like some people have for their children. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve never even met Chad Johnson, but I have watched him since we picked him up and he seems like the kind of guy I would want to be friends with; and more importantly, the kind of player I would want on my team. Sure, he’s angry when he doesn’t get the ball, but that’s because he is sure he could’ve completed a play that would’ve moved the chains, raised the score, or won the game. So yes, I have never asked his motives, but from my standpoint, I see a guy who loves the game. A student of the game who is never content with his current skill level. A player who loves to win and also loves to entertain. A NFL Pro Bowler who walks away from his teammates jokes to shake a six year-old’s hand before a game. A kid who dreams of giving his family a better and more stable life.

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m just naïve. But I’d rather believe what I believe than what the critics say because it’s just too important to me and, I’d venture to say, to Chad. Like my friend Jamie said, “Never give up on our children, it’s a growing year.” And growing year or not, I’d always rather stand by their side then throw them under the bus.
Football is more than a game on those Sundays when the jets fly over as the resonance from the National Anthem fades, and the captains meet in the center of the field. This isn’t just entertainment anymore. This isn’t about one man, it’s about 53 men with 53 families and one big city with one big hope. Maybe it’s time to stop reducing it to just a game and just one man. Maybe it’s time to stop being critics and start being fans. Who Dey!

Who Dey

I am, along with most of Cincinnati, a huge Bengals fan. I grew up sitting in the nose-bleed section of Cinergy Field learning the Icky-Shuffle. And while I would not consider myself an expert on the game of football, throughout the years I have impressed a guy or two with my football knowledge. I, however, am not impressed with the football knowledge of those who sit around me at Paul Brown Stadium these days, or anywhere else I watch the game for that matter.
I understand that 1-4 is not the record of champions. I know that our
offensive line has let Carson take more hits in single games than they
did throughout the entire '05 season. I watched our defense let the Browns rack up way too many points. I know that 1-4 is not what Cincinnati wants to see out of our football team. But more than that, I know that 1-4 is not what any player or coach in the Bengals franchise wants.
No player works on weights and drills, literally tearing their body apart week by week, to lose a game. Landon Johnson does not sit by his locker on Sunday mornings and hope to miss another tackle. Willy Anderson does not get treatment after every practice because he stepped aside to let Carson get sacked. Marvin does not sit in his office after hours thinking of cute sayings which we, as fans, can put on
t-shirts to make ourselves feel better after a loss. Instead, week after week, day after day, these men prepare for a win. Now I know that they are extremely lucky. They are living a dream that few will ever have a chance to realize. I know that with this kind of “power” comes great responsibility. But I also know that I have no idea what it is like. Aside from the fact that I am a girl who never played
a real game of football, I don’t know what it is like to be repeatedly slammed onto my shoulder by a man weighing well over two hundred pounds.
At the same time, I am pretty sure that the loud-mouth across the aisle
and up two rows doesn’t know either. Even if he played college football, which I can guarantee by his physique that he didn’t, he still doesn’t know NFL football. There is a huge difference between college and NFL; we know because we have watched many a players flounder in the transition. And not only did he not play NFL football, but he has never coached it.
That is one fact that despite all of my frustration, I continually remind myself during games. I do not know the challenge of pulling down a ball, one handed, with a defender waiting to cut out my legs and make me lose control. I also do not know the challenge of calling plays that can effectively move the ball down the field at a rate which fits with the score and time left. What I don’t know is how a fan could think that screaming, “Hey Deltha, just because you got beat doesn’t mean youhave to fake hurt,” is effective. First, when a player is laying in the end zone, he can’t hear you while you’re sitting in your comfy fifth row seat on the fifty. Secondly, no player wants to be hurt. Injuries mean time away from the game.
I love the Bengals. I truly do. I take part in every activity that can
bring me closer to the game. I will cheer for them even if they become the ’05 Texans. But I will grow weary of the fans. Because those players, week after week, put their bodies on the line to win a game. They gather together, as a team, to represent our city each Sunday. Shouldn’t we cheer them on through all the struggles this year has shown? Or will the fans prove the cynics right by merely jumping off
the bandwagon?

Whirlwind Ending

Never fear, by ending I don't mean anything ended..well, other than all of the hecticness of getting things settled. I'm in, I am back to loving my job (those two 10 hour days were horrible and made me want to cry), and I'm about to enjoy my first weekend all settled in. Therefore, basically nothing new has come about in my life, but don't worry, with 8 hours a day to sit and think, I have had plenty of new thoughts.

I can't even begin to tell you all of the things that I have thought or overthought (nor would I want to tell you some of the things...I'm a girl...yeah). In that sense, you could probably all stand to pray for me. I mean, this being a girl and thinking about things that don't need thought about is getting ridiculous. Luckily though, I have a wonderful housemate (the hot one that isn't me in the picture) who is really good about doing the "this is what we know to be true" walk through. All in all, I just need to start listening to books on tape or something so that I can stop having all this time on my hands.

Sometimes our thoughts get us in trouble. Not with people, but with ourselves. We talk ourselves into situations we aren't really in. We walk ourselves through scenarios that don't exist. Sometimes our thoughts only hurt our hearts by making us hope for what isn't real.

Settling in

I just finished my first week in housekeeping, and I can say with certainty...it is amazing. Now, I know, that might seem a bit weird in general, but even more so if you know me and my general cleanliness. But surprisingly enough, with all of the variety and random activities this week held, I never felt bored or overburdened..even the days where I worked on one dorm all day and couldn't finish. (I more so felt angry that I was such a slow cleaner) Some of the fun things this week that I did at work include, but are not limited to: visiting the poop plant, playing frisbee golf (twice), watching a presentation on 401K's, and registering for all-staff (during which I will room with cat wade..one of my favorite people.)

All in all, this job is looking to be a rather fun and great experience. Hopefully that's still the verdict at the end of another week.