All My Fears

My prison turns to ruin when Your love moves in.

I hummed these lyrics today, over and over.  Turns out these words were on my heart for a reason.

These times we're living in, they're full of a lot of unknown.  I have candidly admitted a lot of my shortcomings to myself and my small group ladies lately. I know that I worry.  I know that I put a lot of pressure on myself.  I have always told others that I'm replaceable at work (that's one of the things I remember telling a coworker before we listed our home and were planning on moving).  There will be other teachers to take my place, and they'll be great. Now at home, I'd like to think I'm a little more irreplaceable, but after telling my youngest she was being an idiot this morning, I doubt I will be winning mother of the year anytime soon either.

So, back to the unknown.  I like to think I have some control over things.  Outcomes and data are something we are forced to look as teachers.  I want to do things within my classroom to encourage positive outcomes. I want to love people and them to see God's light through that love. I just want to promote peace and harmony and I'd probably drive a VW van cross country living that hippie life had I been born in a different time.

Well, my fears this year are brought to the forefront every time the phone rings.  Today I got the dreaded call that we will be learning at home for two weeks, and you know, there's nothing I can do about it.  And His love filled my heart and I didn't cry (a month ago I might have).  I didn't get angry, because I knew we can handle it.  I'm not thrilled.  No teacher ever went to school to impact the lives of children to do so through a screen. Or on a hybrid schedule.  But we've been given the unique opportunity to teach students EXACTLY where they are physically and that's actually pretty awesome. 

On the flip side, our family has been facing some personal uncertainty and I've been mostly at peace about it until lately.  When the sand in the hourglass is running out, I guess that's where your true judge of character is.  Those lyrics came back today and I thought about the context of the song.  It compares our fears to walls of Jericho.  You know, Joshua and his army didn't bomb the city.  They followed God's orders. They marched around the city.  God brought those walls down.  So what does He command of us in today's time? In John 13:34 Jesus commands us to love one another just as he loved us.

So, love your family, love your friends, love your students, love your neighbors.... I'm not saying I've got remote teaching down pat.  I'm not saying I'm completely at peace with the uncertainty we are facing.  I'm just saying Jesus didn't let the world get in the way of sharing the love and we can't either.  When I'm less focused on me and more focused on others, that's when I feel most at peace and closest to God.  I'm still very humbly human, but I'm going to love my way through all my fears.

Year 13 & a Feel Good Story

When I was named Teacher of the Year for our school I was instantly forwarded a packet of essays to complete.  One of the questions was about what event significantly shaped you as a teacher and how it could encourage other teachers to remain in the profession.  Y'all, I'm just a regular girl teaching in a regular classroom.  Retaining teachers isn't really part of my job description.  Sadly this year, one of my teacher besties is being displaced and I would like nothing more than to retain her position.  I realize that's not what the question was asking me, and I needed to reread a little of those words February Rachel had, because June Rachel is TIRED. I'm not sure an empty classroom, void of all the love that was poured into it can convey, but I left school today feeling as empty as the place I had called my second home for the school year.  I figured I might not be the only tired teacher that needed a little positivity as we go into summer.

When I graduated from UNCG in 2007 I was convinced I was going to change the world.  As a North Carolina Teaching Fellow, I had traveled the state, learned about different school systems, met with district and community leaders and I was sure I had my whole career planned out.  However, I was still a little bit of a realist.  I had grown up in the very southernmost corner of Randolph County, attended school in Moore County where my mother taught, and I knew I wanted to work outside of her shadow.  Upon moving home, I also wanted to work with a diverse population of students in the county I lived in.  My very first interview at Ramseur Elementary, I was offered a third grade position.  This was it!  I was ready.

As it turns out, I wasn’t.  Nothing was quite like the poverty, the demands, the schedule.  My students were challenging.  Many weren’t native English speakers, nearly all of them came from broken homes, most did not achieve proficiency.  I was not wearing a superhero cape.  When my husband and I got married in 2009, I relocated to Kernersville and took a position there.  I cried and cried.  Oddly enough, those students, especially the difficult ones, were my heart and soul.  Even though I felt I never could do enough, I loved my students so much and we all grew tremendously those years I worked there.

 Fast forward to Summer 2018, I received a Facebook message from a parent of a child that I had taught back in 2009.  This student, in the fourth grade, was reading magazines I brought from home about chainsaws, because all he talked about was quitting school and working at his dad’s sawmill. His best buddy was barely reading in fourth grade.  I still remember pulling level D books for him and it was a struggle to get through them.  In her message, the mother invited me to attend these boys’ graduation from Eastern Randolph. We had just closed on our home in Sophia, and I was exhausted, but I hopped in my car and drove across the county.  I saw my very last class of Ramseur students walk across the stage.  I heard their names called.  Students that struggled, that had very few role models, that wanted to quit school at nine years old.  When I saw them after graduation, the boys hugged me, one lifting me slightly off the ground.  I whispered, “Buddy, I am so, so proud of you,” and he excitedly showed me his diploma.  “I’m so glad you were my teacher, Mrs. Henley.  I never forgot about you,” was his response.

There are times, especially as elementary school teachers, we cannot immediately see the fruits of our labors.   It’s important to note that the impact we make as teachers goes beyond the year we teach a child. While I have learned that you do not have to be a superhero to be a good teacher, that moment when I saw my students walk across the stage, I felt like I could fly. 

I really hope to always have an impact on the children I teach and I'm so grateful to have had that moment with my students when they achieved success.  Year 13 was certainly one for the books.  Virtual teaching, multiple home visits, a lot of blurred boundaries, because my students' families definitely became an extension of my own.   If you stuck with me this long, I'm curious, teacher friends... What are your moments that made the difference?

Quarantine Diaries

I haven't written a post in a while, because a variety of things.  I have had a tough year with my little class. I love my job, it's a huge part of who I am, but it has been heavy this year.  My girls have been amazing, and I'm so proud of them, but there's not as many cute stories to tell now that they are older.  Brent has transitioned well to high school and recently finished the classroom portion of his drivers' education program.  Time has been marching...

And then last weekend, it came to a screeching halt. With the COVID-19 virus spreading rapidly, life here has rapidly changed.  In one week's time, I have gone from teaching in front of a classroom children to trying to figure out how to work from home.  I've NEVER (not since I was home with only one baby) contemplated working from home.  It is NOT my jam.

It's scary, this unknown.  I'm a planner.  I cried when I looked in my calendar. I got a new calendar.  One that wasn't already written in.  It helped.  Not seeing those best laid plans that weren't going to be.  Reagan's birthday 5k that was cancelled, every single running club practice that wasn't going to happen, the Girl Scout meetings that wouldn't take place, church services that would only be online... it was too much.

We've planned a pretty awesome quarantine birthday for my nearly nine year old.  We will still run a little race (maybe not quite a 5k since she's recovering from the flu...a whole other can of worms that happened this week), we have gifts that Amazon will be delivering to our doorstep, she wanted to go to Pinewood (our country club) for dinner, so I bought her favorite meal from there to recreate here at home.  We will put a fancy tablecloth on the table, let the girls sip water from wine glasses, and sing happy birthday.  It's not the birthday we had planned, but my girl had already given her birthday to raising money for others through her 5k, I hope that she will let us spoil a little.

This morning was our first morning of this new normal.  Last week Reagan was diagnosed with Flu A which she graciously shared with her Dad.  I took sick leave from work Tuesday-Friday and worked on getting them well. Anna and I drank a lot of elderberry syrup and we stayed well.  We aren't now... I read the articles about it not being friends with the new virus.  Today we were homeschooling and remote working.

I woke up early, blared worship music, got everyone dressed, made breakfast.  I had scheduled our day because David went in to his office today and I was working from home.  The girls stayed on schedule until 9:30.  It was harder than I thought, it wasn't peaceful, but we all survived.  Tomorrow is a new day.  It's predicted to rain and be chilly again, but by Friday the sun should come out.  We will pray and appreciate this time together.  I can't fix this, but I can lead by example for my girls.  They don't seem phased at all yet.  I'm so glad they have each other to pal around with.  But my heart hurts.  It hurts for time missed with my class.  It hurts for the sick.  It hurts for the sweet milestones my girls will miss at school and with their classmates.  It hurts because I am fearful.  It just plain hurts.

Romans 12:12 hangs in our dining room.  It is one of my favorite verses, and I'm claiming it as our quarantine verse. Hope, Patience, Prayer.  Sending virtual hugs to all our friends.
 

Get Out of Your Own Way

It's been a busy season for our family.  Just the every day has seemed busy.  And I'll be the first to say, I love a schedule, a calendar, and things to embrace our time.  Meaningful events, hopefully, and not being busy for the sake of being busy. 

Over the summer the girls and I were lucky enough to get the chance to serve the elderly through a project at our church.  We visited a local nursing home and the girls met residents and created art with them.  Seeing these seniors smile and engage with the youngsters from our church was nothing less than heartwarming.  After several sessions, the church held an art gala at the nursing home for the residents and the families from our church to attend.  The day of the gala my oldest daughter was in a particularly and uncharacteristic grumpy mood.  She didn't want to participate and wanted to cling behind my back.  I pulled her to the side tucked my arm around her little waist and whispered, "sweetie, sometimes you have get out of your own way and do what's right for those around you.  These residents are happy you, especially you, are here.  God would want you to celebrate with them."  Reluctantly, she went over to a resident who she had crafted with and smiled when she reached out for a hug.  Later she told me she was glad she was able to look outside of herself and make room for others (in much simpler, sweeter terms).

As soon as those words popped out of my mouth "get out of your own way," I knew I've been guilty of not doing this.  I think back to when I made a grade level move that I didn't want.  I'm ashamed now of how selfishly I acted.  Thankfully, I was able to look beyond me, and see in the faces of six year olds, why I was where I was.  I wish, though, I had been able to do that initially.  It would have saved me a lot of uncomfortable emotions.  Or maybe the time, I stood silent at a memorial service, when I wanted to speak.  I ended up using this blog to share the words I still wish I could have shared that day.  There are lessons we pass to our littles that are often lessons we are still learning.  Learning to get out of my own way is one of those lessons.

What about the times, I did decide let go and let God?  Well, I was able to enjoy a pregnancy after a horrible scare.  I am able to share the Bible and sing and dance with toddlers and preschoolers on Sundays.  We live and work in a community where we've been welcomed with open arms.  I've made some of my best adult friends through church, work, scouts, and through the children that once sat in my classroom.  My life is so much better for the times I got out of my own way.

What's holding you back?  Is it you?  Is there something God is leading your towards that you are standing still on?  My hope for this new {school} year is that I'm able to see beyond myself ... for the little ones I tuck in each night, and the eighteen I get for 180 days.  We get one chance to do this life.  I want to do it right.

Not Enough

A few weeks ago I talked with my little pals at church about sharing--sharing even when we don't feel we have enough.  I had packed a bottle of oil & flour for the kids to see the story come to life and as I brought home these items, I couldn't help but think of the times where I have felt like I don't have enough.

We've all heard you cannot pour from an empty cup, and if you haven't, take those words to heart. But what about when your cup is only a quarter full? Or you just have enough for one aspect of your life (teacher friends, you get this, right?).  What do we do then?

I think back just a year ago.  It was January and my colleague across the hall popped in during specials time to me all but sobbing at my kidney table.  Luckily, not only a colleague but the dearest of friends, she understood, closed my door and let me regain my composure within my planning period.  You see, at this point I felt I had nothing left to give.  My school babies were struggling.  They were NOT going to reach proficiency (and there was nothing short of a miracle I could do to get them there). My baby was struggling.  Her little reading assessment running man was in the yellow, and I felt I was failing her.  My oldest daughter had just had head lice and my whole house was bagged and washed and I tore a muscle in my shoulder from standing over her for hours going through every strand of hair.  I was completely floundering.  I had NOTHING left to give anyone.... but yet somehow, I did.  I kept my PTA position running, my class GREW tremendously (even if that didn't mean they passed), lice came and went, and my baby was back on track by the end of the year. I gleaned as much from the preschool lessons I taught at church (as I still do), and God worked through my devotions, time with my small group, and built my weary heart back up through small successes that moved mountains.

I often wonder how people without faith live without it.  After the rough winter, my husband and I sat down and reevaluated our goals.  When we got married, our plan was to not stay in our home and we always wanted to move closer to our families.  This was detoured by babies and a poor housing market. We decided to trust that if God wanted this to happen, we were going to do our part.  We listed our house in April, had multiple offers the first week on the market, and were lucky enough to sign paperwork that same week.  Three kids and a staged house while working full time was not in the cards for long--thank goodness.  I anxiously awaited the final puzzle piece of our move after we closed on our new house in June.  And somehow, I ended up finding a job just a five minute drive from home. My little reader has read over 150 books to me since September. We all have a little more time together within our four walls and outside of the brick and mortar of the school building or running here and there and everywhere in the minivan.  Because I'm the new girl, I have a few fewer responsibilities at work (much to the celebration of my family), which has allowed me time to start a running club, really focus on my fifth graders, and find a better balance between work and home.  Sometimes a fresh start isn't the scariest of things after all.

After a time I felt not enough, I look back and realize that somehow I was.  Not because of me, but because of blind faith and admitting that I was on empty. Somehow something even greater was in the cards for us.  Today Anna's teacher bragged on her reading.  She's come so far in just a quick year. If you had told me a year ago that I'd be sitting in the living room of a new home, with my children happily adjusted and enthusiastic about school, I might have wanted to believe you.  I might have thought that sounded like only a farfetched dream. But tonight it's not.  It's a real blessing.

Like the widow trusted God and Elijah's request for the oil & flour to be made into bread, even when she didn't have enough, He still takes that not enough and makes it plenty.  When I felt like I couldn't possibly handle one more blow, somehow we weathered the storm and came out with even more than I could have imagined.  Not every day is perfect, there are still days I feel defeated, but I've learned to appreciate the journey with a little more focus on Him and a lot less on me.

It's Jesus

One of my dearest friends and I would laugh when we began handling situations more adult-like and chalk it up to our thirties.  And really, once I closed the door on my twenties, I became much more comfortable in my own skin.  Much more confident in my ability to make decisions, and really just genuinely happy with my own life. I became more introspective, while being able to stand up for my beliefs.  I became a little less of a doormat and more of an advocate for my own children, for my classroom full of children, and for myself. 

This Sunday, I made the trip south to visit with my family.  I sat in a pew among some of the best people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing.  The salt of the earth as my high school principal would say of the natives of my little hometown: population 1700.  The pastor discussed something my church's pastor had recently, and while not the jest of either of the sermons, something that really hit home for me was maybe it wasn't being thirty (and some change) that has changed me.  It's Jesus.

Perhaps growing up in my faith took me 30+ years.  I'll be honest, my seven year old has taught me more about unshakable faith than most adults.  But, really knowing Jesus, being more faithful in prayer, working really hard to instill in our three babies a devout love for the Lord, that's what's changed.  

I typically have a worship song that hits home with each current season of life, and right now, my girls and I are totally belting out Hillsong United's "Who You Say I Am."  Maybe it is a mixture of both wisdom with age and being grounded in Christ, but overall, the reason I am able to be more confident, optimistic, hopeful, grateful...It's Jesus. I want to be that person He says I am.

Making the Back to School Rush a Little Easier... Part 1

I keep a big family calendar in our kitchen and write important dates and events on it to keep everyone informed.  Five schedules are tough to keep up with and this makes it a little easier.  However, that calendar is glaring at me like flashing neon reminding me it is nearly August.

It is not that I dread going back to work.  I absolutely love my job.  I do, however, try really hard to keep it all in balance.  After all, I have 18 years with these kids in my house and only 1 with my students.  I have to make all that time count. This year is a little different.  We are asking my girls to do something I never had to do.  They are starting a brand new school.  To soften the blow, I'm going to too, but all the same, CHANGE IS HARD.

So while my friends have been posting about what they are planning for their students (and I do have plans for my nearly fifty 5th graders that I get to teach language arts & social studies to), today I wanted to share something that I'm doing for the littles that share my last name. If anyone knows tired, it is mothers to little babies and teachers in August/September (and May too, but that's another story). Now, thankfully, I have survived those newborn days, but I am anticipating a huge crash in a couple weeks. I've been praying for some guidance and wisdom on how to handle this.  I've been praying over my sleeping six and seven year olds nightly that they make new friends and love their new school as much as I already do.

Today at church, I had a little free time on my hands as we finished this month's lesson a little early in the storytime room, and I asked what I could do to help the prep team.  In that room I helped prepare some things for our rising kinder babies.  As I was helping, I realized that prepping in this way could help me so much.  A few years ago I did freezer meals before school started (I'll share a few recipes when I get to that point this summer) and that was amazing.  This prep though, is JUST for my girls.

While the girls went out with their daddy, I worked on some lunch box notes for their lunches.  I STINK at this after like day 2, and wanted a way to send a little sunshine in their lunches or snack since they are at a new place with new people. I'll print these on cardstock, cut them, pop them in the kitchen drawer and boom, there they are ready to pack.  These were still prepared with just as much love (I really carefully picked fonts and quotes especially for my babies), and there's tons on Pinterest for the future when I'm truly tired.

Here's a little sampling of the very simple lunchbox love for Rea and A.

Hopefully it'll make the back to school craziness a little less crazy for all 3 of us.  I'm not a perfect teacher or a perfect momma.  In fact, I've said many times that my position, my job, I'm completely replaceable.  They will find a capable and able and amazing teacher to fill my position.  But I'm the only mother my girls have and right now my focus is on their new school year.  They've seen (and will see) me work really hard.  I want them to know I think they are worth me working hard for too.