Thankful

Sometimes it is so nice to hear only the click of the keyboard and the moist shrug of the Keurig machine as I sit down after work. My feet hurt and my face is sweaty feeling as I kept forgetting to adjust the heater in my classroom. My students now call me "Mrs. Culby" and I am a bit ridiculous in my love-dovey "newly married" frame of mind right now -- I get that. My life feels precious and sweet and freeing and soft...like freshly washed sheets that are the just right amount of cold when you get in. I won't pretend that I haven't had my own share of struggles -- I certainly have. But, there are days when things align and your spirit, and emotions, and body feel so well-connected that it just makes me want to run, or organize, or...write. Maybe even all 3.

So, here's a thankful list. My first one since getting married...maybe it will look different.

My husband (woop, there it is)

My little home (the cutest little place in the fall!)

Grace and forgiveness 

Understanding

LOVE

My hope chest turned coffee table 

My in-laws

My nieces!

Attending a church where I hear God's love for me EVERY SINGLE WEEK (so important for me)

Seeing my husband walk in from work with a smile on his face

My wooden cutting board

My glass pitcher

Holding my strong husband's hand

My new school and students

HOPE

FREEDOM

JOY

Mountains

Spatulas

Trips with the hubs

Having a husband who plans fun, creative dates

Seeing my friends get married and have babies

My sister, my "Little One"

My brother and sis-in law

Parents who are supportive, helpful, and always ready to listen

Friends who are faithful, helpful, and loving in the most beautiful way

Memories of a sweet wedding, and smiling at the future I know God has planned.

The HOPE and UTTER JOY that comes from knowing that God's best for my husband and me is YET TO COME. 

Update

Ten months of not writing.

I admit I have put off updating the blog for various purposes, like:

• I forgot 
• I was busy with teaching high school and passing SAFE-T
• I was busy trying to catch up on How I Met Your Mother with the roommates (crucial.)
• I was busy meeting and dating the best man in the world (amazing.)
• I was busy planning a wedding (glad it's done!)
• I was busy looking for a middle school teaching job 
• I was busy moving out of the duplex and back into my parents’ house for 3 weeks 
• I was busy working with my fiance to prepare his house for me (he was a saint)
• I was busy getting married (and loving every minute!)

And, so, here I am.

You won’t be shocked to hear that I received a lot of advice about marriage before I got married, and much of it was godly, experienced wisdom from people I love and look up to. And all of it was so, so right. Now that I am on the very slight “other side” of things (meaning, I am now married instead of unmarried), I have realized one crucial piece of wisdom about marriage:

Now that I am married, Satan is going to try his very best to destroy my marriage because he knows that if we are fiercely protecting and investing in our marriage and following God’s will, we can do great and powerful things for God. And, that possibility threatens his plan for evil and it scares him. So, he will do ANYTHING he can to ruin our marriage.

There is no need for me to mention statistically how marriages are doing, we all know the numbers. So, I am learning to be ultra-aware of Satan’s lies, his attempts to draw me away from my husband, plain and simple. I am not naïve enough to think that my love and adoration for my husband is enough to protect me from Satan’s lies and thus protect our marriage. It isn't because I don’t love and adore him, I DO so very much. But, if I simply rely on my love and adoration, I am only relying on my own strength, which is directly against what scripture tells me to do. Scripture says I am to rely on God’s strength.

 Therefore, by clinging to Christ, I cling to my husband. By submitting to God’s will, I submit to my husband (and vice versa). By knowing God and loving his word, my love and commitment to my husband grows. I am so very new in all of this and I am sure there is some fault to my learning at this point. But, one thing I do know, is that I cannot be an encouraging, strong, loving wife to my husband unless I seek an outside source of strength. Satan’s lies dry me out of any type of love and commitment and, in turn, fill me up with fear, resentment, self-protection, and doubt. God’s truth enlivens me, strengthens me, wisens (let’s pretend that’s a word) me, and grows us together.

Proverbs 4:23 has taken on new meaning for me as I have been married.

“Guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”

Everything I do flows from the pursuits, focus, and interests of my heart. Everything. So, if what I am around could possibly affect my pursuits, focus, and interests, then I want to be careful with what I allow my heart to encounter. What I invest my thoughts and time in will affect my marriage, most definitely. 

One way I can protect my marriage is to guard my heart against Satan's attempts to distract me.

All this is to say is that I have so very much to learn, but God is starting to piece together an understanding of my new life as a married lady and I am trying my best to listen and understand.

So, hello. I am back and I hope to be a more frequent update-er as much as time permits.

Oh, and I really really love being a Mrs. to the best man for me.

Denton Bible Church - Song of Solomon

Below is a link to one of the best series I have heard on love, dating, and marriage. The Song of Solomon always seems to be the "elephant" of the church, but I really love what Denton says about it. Enjoy!

http://dbcmedia.org/podcasts/love_song_podcast.xml

Greater Than Me

Because he who is in me

Is greater than I will ever be

And I will rise

 

Shawn McDonald's song "Rise" brought me to tears as I was driving down the East/West connecter today. This past week I had a moment of encouragement in my teaching that was humbling. It reminds me of the time when God showed me the lesson of the five loaves and two fish. I am the five loaves and two fish. I am not enough. I need Jesus to intercede so that I can give what my students need. Moments like these bring me to my knees and make me wonder why I ever doubt. Again.

Here is the thing about my job: I feel as though I am constantly under a microscope and judged on my performance all the while being thrown various obstacles that could (and will eventually) impact my classroom. This job is incredibly humbling because I know that I am not enough for them. I can't answer every question. I can't imagine every situation that I should prepare for. But, Jesus comes into my classroom, into my mess, and makes something beautiful of it. I am not the best teacher. But I belong to the best Teacher and that is what makes the difference. It has nothing to do with me. It has everything to do with Him. And this is what humbles me so greatly. He chooses to use me, every mess-up, every inadequate lesson, every failure and turn it into something good. This is the God I love. 

 

And so this is my daily life. Not every day is fireworks. Not every day feels like an "I am so meant to do this" day. But, God is with me every day, no matter how spiritual I feel that day or whether or not I deserve his help. That is the point of his grace and mercy. I know that God is using teaching to humble me and show me how I so desperately need him. And it really hurts sometimes. And sometimes it is embarrassing and sometimes I just want to hide. But, he comes, and gently lifts me, and wipes my tears, and clears my head, and holds my heart while I press on. And though it is messy and though it is painful, it is the most beautiful experience.

What is your messy and beautiful experience? How do you see God in it?


Here is Shawn McDonald's song "Rise." I hope it encourages you as it does me!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S2ti1BikZrA

 



Needing Him is the Point

Tonight I looked down at my list. Ten things are on this list. Three things are scratched off. At the top is "must do today" with empty little circles extending below that establish where each task begins. The paper is creamy colored -- little violets crowning the top. One corner of the paper is severely bent --a representation of my habit of folding and refolding paper in my hands when I am busy or anxious. At the tip-top there is the edge of tea-cup stain from this morning's accidental slosh. Over to the side, I have written Matthew 11:30.

"For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

I have been learning a lot about myself lately, namely, my weaknesses and areas in which I need Jesus like I have never felt before. I have always needed God, certainly. But sometimes feeling it brings it closer to home. Feeling the weight of my inadequacy and sinfulness is pretty exhausting. It is not meant to be exhausting and debilitating. The God in Matthew is the same today; He calls me to take on his yoke, his burden, which is easier and lighter than I currently carry. "Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden and I will give you rest."

Why does Jesus use ideas like burdens and weariness so often in scripture? Because he knows; He was man and he knows the human struggle.

This morning, I was driving down 81, passing my Alma Mater, and wishing that I didn't have to struggle so much. Wishing that I could just finally get it right and not feel at war with my flesh.
I passed by an empty field. It was hushed with fog and the slits of  morning sunlight made it look alluring and tranquil. It looked like that scene from the newest Pride and Prejudice where Mr. Darcy strides across the  field, his purposeful steps breaking through the ascending fog and brisk wind. Immediately after that déjà vu moment, I thought "that's probably what Eden looked like."

Eden is what my soul was made for. Eden was the environment my flesh was made to thrive in. And so of course I will struggle on earth. Of course I will never get it right. The Bible came after Eden. God's words and love and guidance and empathy came after humanity destroyed our opportunity to live in the environment He created us for.

And I like this idea, because it is so logical. I just wish the circumstances were easier to endure.

This whole idea, that of my not needing to feel hopeless because I struggle, connects with the concept of shame that I have been mulling over. Recent conversations and audio-book listening have brought to my attention that so many of my mistakes and emotions derive from my self-inflicted experience of shame.

I am not my mistakes. I am not my emotions. I am not my failures.

I am, however, the product of humanity's decision to reject God.
I am, however, the recipient of God's grace and love and forgiveness.
I am, in result, a woman learning what it looks like to live out this inconvenient paradox: life as a human with sin and weaknesses and all the while being a child of God who has been redeemed from all such things.

And so, He says that his yoke is easy and his burden is light. He knows mine are too heavy. He knows I can't survive such weight.

He is providing a way of escape, of existence with his help and love and empathy.

So maybe my lists reflect an anxious heart because they are bent on the edge. Maybe I won't get those last seven items crossed off and maybe I will be tempted to belittle my adequacy at my job and at life. Maybe all of those things will happen.

But I can bring it to him. I can take off my burdens, and take from him a new burden that I am able to withstand. He can carry it for me. He can carry me.

So, tomorrow is supposed to be a delicious seventy-something with little chance of rain. Tomorrow will bring new challenges and new lists. But tonight I have chosen to repent and give it over. Tomorrow I will drive with the windows down and thank him for his help and bless my students with the same understanding and structure and strength that I have been given. Tonight I choose, quite logically, to live out this beautifully challenging life using the tool he has given me--himself.

From JD to JC (see what I did there?)

George Mueller's life has always interested me. I remember my mother purchasing a large set of biographies about Christian missionaries when I was in middle school. It took me a while to find an interest in them, as I was conflicted by the realization that I was probably the only 13 year-old choosing a missionary's biography over teen magazines that featured the Hanson brothers. I remember, though, the day I choose George Mueller's story.

George Mueller is known for founding orphanages in England in the 1800s. What stood out for me, though, was that he was an outstanding rebel before his conversion. He stole, he partied, he made fun of Christians, and he was an all-around juvenile delinquent. Then, he went to a Bible study that changed his life. He decided to become a missionary and, much to his educated father's dismay, not attend university. With a few minor tests of faith, Mueller left for England and became a pastor and, shortly thereafter, opened up an orphanage because of the excessive number of homeless children he found walking the streets of England.

He is most famous for this situation:

"The children are dressed and ready for school. But there is no food for them to eat," the housemother of the orphanage informed George Mueller. George asked her to take the 300 children into the dining room and have them sit at the tables. He thanked God for the food and waited. George knew God would provide food for the children as he always did. Within minutes, a baker knocked on the door. "Mr. Mueller," he said, "last night I could not sleep. Somehow I knew that you would need bread this morning. I got up and baked three batches for you. I will bring it in."

This story kind of baffles me. I want to firmly believe in God's provision and timing just as Mueller did. I want to not allow doubt or discouragement blind my faith.

Mueller thanked God before the blessing arrived.

Mueller brought others with him into the test of faith.

Mueller believed, yes, but he also acted on his belief.

Mueller trusted. Mueller waited.

And such a simple concept kind of rocks my world tonight. I am reminded to act on my faith. Physically acting on faith should be a natural repercussion of believing it and claiming it in my soul. It should be obvious when I am acting on faith. Because, typically, faith-led actions look and feel sort of illogical. Pray before nonexistent food? Place my staff into a sea and expect it to divide? Build an ark so that my family can be safe? Trust that my husband won't stone me because I am pregnant with the Son of God?

Basing my assumption off of Biblical evidence, God doesn't seem to be advocating that Christians will have easy, predictable, stress-free lives.

And so, here we go again. Another school year, another round of new trials and another set of standards I must meet. And it is really tempting for me to doubt and not trust that He who has brought me thus far will lead me through. Sometimes it feels more logical for me to envision myself failing than succeeding. But that is not the mentality of my God nor the stance he wants me to take towards life. And so I press onward and I fight for my faith.

It IS a fight and it will never be anything but a fight. But the battle is won and for that I am thankful. I have so many nothings to offer, but I have faith in the One who is I Am. And that is enough.

Like good ole' GM, I will give THANKS before it comes because I know He is providing.

What a Church is

A Church is a hospital for sinners...

I came across this today and am reminded how thankful I am to be in a community and church where sin is talked about and people are helped and loved so well. There is nothing that I treasure more than finding love from the One who never sees me as the vulgar sinner that I am. My prayer is that this remains my motivation to love as Jesus did, serve as Jesus did, and find freedom in the hope that He is using and working and blessing through even me. I want to see daily life as my sanctuary. I want to be in worship as I teach, as I plan and grade, as I live my life. It's not about Sunday. It's about forgiveness and love and hope and humility and freedom in Christ in the everyday. It's about struggling well and being noticeably different but still so imperfect. I can never measure up, and that is beautifully humbling. And, humility is where it starts.

Remembering

I am thankful for...

True, raw, out-in-the-open freedom of confession and forgiveness
The knowledge that I can never be the perfect me. And that is OK. That is the point.
God who loves me despite me.
Not really understanding love and continuing to be surprised by expressions of it.
The wind.
Mountains.
Friends who are really more like sisters and brothers.
The vulnerability that comes with those close friends.
Not having to be "fine."
Early mornings with a coffee cup, a couch, socks, sunrises, and the quiet that timidly grows louder as the sun appears.
Discipline. Self-control. Contentment.
Almonds.
Fresh cherries.
Watermelon.
Soccer in the fall.
Cold temperatures but warm fires.
Fresh bread.
Down comforters.
The color emerald.
My last present from my grandmother.
Hard stuff.
Family.
Cousins.
Needing the help of Jesus.
Knowing that I need the help of Jesus.
Vulnerability.
Honesty.
Help.
Tears.
Emotions.
Curly hair.
Music.
Poetry.
Essays.
Acoustic music.
Floral and lace things.
Learning from mistakes.
Admitting mistakes.
A fresh start.
A new home.
Adventures.
Coming home after adventuring.
Sleep.
Acts of service.
Words of affirmation.
Encouragement.
Friends who tell the truth to you.
Friends to whom you can tell the truth.
Humor.
Wisdom.
Flowers.
Walking ponds.
Feeding geese.
Icicles.
Snow.
Fall leaves.
Crisp fall morning air.
Bon fires.
Burnt marshmallows.
Camping.
Hiking.
Outdoors.
Open windows.
Singing in harmony.


I am thankful for life. It is hard. And sometimes I am not good at living it. But it is a gift from God and so there must be beauty in it. And for that I will be thankful.

And so I will make lists so that I have to remember. And when I doubt I will look at the lists. And when others doubt, I will help them make lists. And I will remember. And I will try to be thankful, because this is life.

To live is to struggle. I want to struggle well. I want to be known for needing Jesus.

And so we remember to not forget. We remember to live, to struggle, to fight. We remember to be real.

And that is beautiful.

That Girl

Sometimes I miss certain versions of myself. Just when I get comfortable with who I am and what I am doing, a change forces its way into my life. Just when I fling back my arms, breathe in deeply, tip my toes up and lean back, something comes and places the tip of its crooked pointer-finger upon the small of my back...steps forward, and purposefully eases me back into my standing position. "Not so fast, my pretty, we're not done here." I suppose this is God, but I have just described him as the wicked witch of the west. So, I don't know what to do with that.

What I mean is this: Change is good and I actually like it. This is why I enjoy teaching -every day is different and brings new challenges. Also, we get candy in our mail boxes and school t-shirts.

But.

Sometimes I really like the person I am and the spot I am in and when I leave that I place, I end up not being too fond of the girl and situation that replaces it.

 I admit that I am success-driven. If I feel like I will be successful then I run for it with ridiculous exuberance. If I feel inadequate then I shy away, make circles with my big toe, and put off the let-down of failure until the last moment possible. I can't escape change, though. It comes, whether I feel prepared for it or not. Sometimes it ends up being a change that I can welcome with pomp and circumstance. Other times it ends up being change that causes makes me to feel inadequate.

I have changed. Some for the better, some for the worst, but I have changed. And sometimes I miss who I was before.

I miss the version of myself that was happy with little. I  miss the version of myself that was overjoyed with a new soccer ball from Wal-Mart. I  miss the version of myself that would spend quiet time alone with God and not have to force myself there. I miss the version of myself that was selfless and motivated to help others out of unencumbered love. I miss the version of myself that would scale up the old Oak tree with a new book and sit and read until the ants made their debut in the edge of my sneakers. I miss the version of myself that didn't know the demands of a daily job or monthly bills or emotional roller coaster of the dating world. I miss the version of myself that wore pigtails because her favorite character in a book did. I miss the version of myself that divided her days into "school" and "after school" instead of "before work," "work," "during work," and "after work." I miss the version of myself that had time to commit to various activities. I miss the version of myself from when my grandmother died. I liked that emotional, tender-hearted, fearless girl.

I like a good, solid, natural change. But sometimes I inflict negative change upon myself, the kind that comes when I put off spending time in God's word. The kind that comes when I forget to go out of my way to serve others (instead of it being "on the way"). The kind that comes when I focus too much on myself and not Jesus. Sometimes the change is my fault and I ignore the repercussions until they're staring me in the face. And then I just have to deal and hope that some small ounce of that little girl and Jesus' goodness can bring me back.

So, change.

I have changed and I will continue to change. We like to hold on to a little bit of the previous versions of ourselves. We try to hold on only to the good bits. We fight against holding on to the bad bits. That pigtail girl is still in me. That fearless girl bubbles up every day that I have to say "no" to a teenager who is on the verge of a meltdown. That tree-climber, that high-flyer, that dreamer-girl is still in me. She hasn't left, only grown up. And so I will hold on - to the good bits - to the dreamer-girl and spunky adolescent of me.

So today I will see my world with new eyes, because Jonas did. Today I will step away from technology and errands and walk a pond with book in hand. Today I will get drinks with friends and give cheers to life and health and potential and pay checks. Today I will buy a new soccer ball and enjoy the thrill of one, cheap, unnecessary symbol of childish joy. Today I will buy another piece of furniture to restore because I like working with my hands. Today I will roller blade and paint my nails blue and go to bed at 9.

Today I will discover me because tomorrow I may change. Today I will relish the me that I wasn't yesterday and tomorrow I will sigh for the one I was today.

Oh, God

Oh, God.

Sometimes that's the only thing I can utter when God especially blesses me while I am afraid and don't have it all together.

Sometimes God makes me cry. And I think that is OK.


When a blushing 9th grader comes to me with every "A" she earns in school - Oh, God.

When, through tears, a mother thanks me for telling her positive things about her child - Oh, God.

When I talk honestly with a student about a path she is on and we both start to cry - Oh, God.

When I read free-write journals of teenagers who are wise beyond their years - Oh, God.

When my vision is cleared and I see my students as needy people instead of numbers - Oh, God.

When the prayer I have been repeating is already interwoven into my heart that I just stop short because he knows - Oh, God.

When I feel lackluster and hopeless yet God answers my prayer - Oh, God.

_________________________________________________________________________________

I am an incredibly messed up person who is adored by the mighty Lord...and I don't think I'll ever fully understand why.

And sometimes, the only thing I can muster up is an Oh, God and tear-filled eyes as I stare down the radical goodness he gives...

and I cry, because he loves me and because it is the only thing my body knows to do when faced with the astounding blessing of being his treasure.