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. 

Oh no, Joe!

The past month we've been following the story of Joseph with our preschoolers at church.  As a storytelling volunteer, I get the opportunity to really reiterate the bottom line for our tiniest friends.  A lot of times, these stories are warm and familiar, like Joseph and his coat of many colors. Praying that I get the point to our little guests, I always try to brush up on these stories at some point throughout the week.  Many times in my Christian walk, I think back to these truths from the Bible and get too comfortable with the story, missing that bottom line myself.

So, each week in May we followed Joseph.  He went from being highly favored by his father to being sold into slavery by his jealous brothers.  "Oh no, Joe!" my little friends would echo clasping their hands at their cheeks like Kevin McCallister (Home Alone).  I'm such a people pleaser in my everyday life, that sometimes I don't understand why my best efforts end up with me feeling like I'm being thrown in a hole.  Like the truth I wanted my littles to understand this month though, God always has a plan.

He won over Potiphar, his master, and Joseph continued to live as God would want him to.  However, living according to God's law meant that Joseph lost favor with Potiphar.  And again, Joseph found himself in unfortunate circumstances.  He was thrown into prison.  "Oh no, Joe!" In prison, Joseph was put in charge of the other prisoners.  One of these prisoners was the Pharaoh's baker.  When the baker returned to the Pharaoh's charge, he eventually mentioned to the Pharaoh that Joseph could help interpret dreams.  The Pharaoh had had a dream that Joseph helped him understand and in turn, helped Egypt prepare for a famine. 

Eventually those brothers traveled to help their family acquire grain.  Their family had not been prepared for the famine and needed the grain in order to survive.  Joseph recognized and forgave his brothers. All because he was patient and believed that God had a plan for him, Joseph was able to forgive and be reunited with his family.

Sure, I'm sure most of us have heard Joseph's story.  But thinking about how he trusted God in these times is impressive.  Over the past month, I've watched my friends trust God, even in such adversity that I'm sure I'd question my faith. The grownups in our house have been making some changes and decisions for our family, and while relatively we've remained unmarked and unharmed, they are scary nonetheless. I worry so much about if we are doing right by Brent and the girls.  I want so badly for all the pieces to neatly fall into place, but in this world, rarely is it that simple or easy.  I know that.  I want to trust God's perfect plan.  I also want to have it all sketched out in my to do list.  Those things contradict each other.

One of my sweet friends told me she wanted to pray specifically for me, my small group, without me saying a word, included me in their prayers.  It's not that I don't covet those prayers, but asking for someone to pray for me is something I find hard.  Not because of pride, but because I worry that will seem selfish.  There are other people who are climbing mountains compared to my little molehill.  But you know, I think that part of this journey has been for me to learn that it's okay for me to let someone else think of me.  I worry all the time that I'm not selfless enough.  There was a time in my life where I was not selfless at all.  I guess I'm trying to make up for that.  I don't need to.  Jesus paid that price for me.  So, to survive this busy time right now, I'm just going to be a little more like my friend, Joe.  God's got this, so I don't have to.

#realisthenewperfect

I guess I was born trying to be perfect.  It wasn't something my parents pushed on me.  They didn't have to.  I wanted to be the fastest, the smartest, the friendliest.  I'll admit when my A- in my high school calculus class bumped me from being my class's salutatorian, I might have cried a little.  They already made me write my speech. Or when I came up a few seconds short in the regional cross country meet from making all region, I might have been a little more than rationally bummed out. Coastal running is my thing though!  After they redrew the conferences and we ended up in the western region, I never came close.  At those moments, I learned that perfection isn't always obtainable.  I tore my ACL my senior year playing soccer on a team that had a losing record, but I still had a lot of things going for me.  I accepted a pretty prestigious teaching scholarship to attend my mom's Alma mater and I wasn’t scarred from graduating third in my class after a tragedy took the life of one of my closest friends just a week before graduation.

I joke with people that when I graduated college that I was convinced that I was going to change the world. It’s not that I don’t think teachers cannot change the world, but that picture that I had created in my mind was not what my classroom was like at all.  That first year, I might have danced the Soulja Boy but I also had a desk thrown at me.  I might have helped kiddos really learn to read and multiply, but they still didn’t reach proficiency. I did want to quit.  But I didn’t.  Not without a lot of encouragement from coworkers, family, and friends, I survived that first year and I had an amazing second year to follow.  All those real events were not perfection, but they are some of the building blocks that made me the person I am today.

Because of real life happenings, I realized that picture perfect flawlessness doesn’t really exist. People exist, love exists, but there’s a lot of things out there outside the realm of my control.  When I had these babies, I decided that I really was going to go more with the flow… especially when the second one arrived exactly thirteen and a half months after her older sister.  Real was the way to go.

Even so, there are days that I feel like I fail.  I fail my girls.  I fail my students.  Luckily, my husband has NEVER expected me to be perfect and reminds me constantly that I am the only person in the world holding me to these crazy standards.  That said, I want so badly to help everyone do well.  I want to be a valuable part of a team and on days where I’m my harshest critic, I just feel anything but.

I say all this to say, mommas, if you feel like your kids are getting less than your best, they aren’t.  My girls haven’t stopped crawling on me and kissing on since we got home.  One is literally laying across me right now. They do not care that I fed them fast food for dinner and they love telling me all about their days.  They aren’t keeping score with their friends’ moms that packed them bento box perfect lunches or made them the best 100th day of school project.  And teachers, you are changing the world.  One hug, fist bump, high five at a time.  I tell my students they ARE NOT numbers on papers, but you know what, teachers, YOU ARE NOT either.  While I hold myself to perhaps unreachable expectations, I have to realize how far we’ve come since day 1, and some of that distance cannot be measured by Lexile and percentages.

I’m giving myself this pep talk, but I bet I’m not the only person out there that needs the reminder that real is the new perfect.  You can photoshop every blemish and filter out all your imperfections, but at the end of the day they real, the actual, that’s what makes memories, that’s what makes the difference. Don't be too hard on yourself.

Being Third

In today's culture, winning is best.  In the words of Ricky Bobby, "If you aren't first, you're last." I started a Bible study co-written by two lovely teachers (who happen to reside in NC!) last week and it couldn't have hit more on time for my teacher, momma, wife, fallible heart. I sat and prayed over the scriptures I read carrying away one big idea that has made an impact on my life. Right now. Something I've discussed with my littles.  Something that we are working hard to implement as our family: Being third.  {By the way... you can check out this amazing Bible Study here: http://bonniekathryn.com/bible-study-sign/}

Tonight, I spent like 2 hours making dinner.  Only one of my family members ate it.  Only one other even tried it (it was NOT bad, but I have not so adventurous eaters---a grown man included). I got up from the table, choked back tears and left.  Ya'll, I got in my minivan and left. I'm 32 years old.  I'm not sure why stupid stuff hurts my heart, but it does. And then I remembered this line I highlighted: Faithfulness does not depend on the actions and behaviors of others (or something like that).  I did what I should have (maybe I should have picked something different to prepare), and despite the fact that over half of my family ate microwavable popcorn for dinner, it didn't really matter.  In the grand scheme of things it was fine.  I really didn't have to cry in the parking lot of the Food Lion, even though at that moment in time, it felt like I should.  I know this is a stupid story to share, but for me it's important to realize and admit my shortcomings.  My love language is words of affirmation.  So, hearing "yuck" and "I don't even want to try it" after putting forth quite a bit of effort into today's meal just crushed me.  Knowing that about myself, and knowing my family like I do, I pretty much set myself up for tonight's dinner fiasco.

What does this have to do with being third?  Who is really before me? This week's lightbox message has been a lit up reminder to our household:

This is SO hard.  I think back to my 1990s self with those trendy WWJD bracelets.  There have been a lot of times in my life where  I did NOT do what Jesus would have wanted me to do.  Even today, it's hard to be pure in mind and actions all the time.  We are human.  I wish we had more of this.  Wish my kids acted differently.  Wished I could eat anything I wanted and my metabolism would keep up.  I don't always want to let others go first.  Maybe even that dinner was more to my tastes than my families.  Maybe, deep down, I was thinking of my preferences before theirs.

This being third has also been a theme in our current church series "One Another." {You can catch this sermon series here: http://subsplash.com/thesummitchurch/s/cfb7ceb/  If you don't have a home church and want somewhere to worship on Sundays, you are more than welcome to join us ANYTIME!} In this series, we've discussed how our walk with Christ isn't alone, it's interconnected with others.  Other followers and other nonbelievers, and how our actions can show others Jesus' love. I'm not the best at voicing my faith aloud (I'd much rather just type it out...), but if my actions show His love, those actions speak louder than any words ever could.  Do I have to travel to Africa on missions? Do I have to organize volunteer efforts in our community? Do I have to teach at a Christian school? No.... even those are all wonderful ways to serve our God.  I need to live third. I need to carry the burdens, forgive, submit, honor, be kind, and genuinely love others just as Jesus did.

So, while this little lightbox message won't make it's way to my classroom this year (at least in black and white and lights), it's stamped on my heart. Jesus. Others. Self. In the words of Rachel Henley, "If you aren't third, you probably aren't doing it right."

Heaven Sparkles and the Mailbox is the Best Place to Visit: Interviews with Rea & A

This summer has gotten off to a slow start... Cloudy skies, cooler than average temperatures, and rainy afternoons don't make for the best sightseeing or pool days.  We've made the most of it and today on my seventh day of summer break, I thought we'd take a time out and just see how these tiny people are thinking these days.

Anna:
What is your favorite color? Pink & Yellow
What is your favorite treat? Chocolate
What is your favorite sport? Basketball, because I'm good at dribbling the ball!
What is your favorite tv show? Paw Patrol of course. 
What is your favorite book? The one about sea turtles (I'm not really sure what she is talking about here.....)
What is your favorite restaurant? Olympic, because I love their cheese grits.
What is your favorite place to visit? The mailbox (eh... maybe too many Amazon boxes have arrived lately)
Where do you WANT to visit some day? The Science Center 
Who is your best friend? Drew
What’s your favorite thing to do with Reagan? Play with our toys
What’s your favorite thing to do with Brent? Watch movies
What’s your favorite thing to do with Dad? Eat popcorn
What’s your favorite thing to do with Mom? Make a secret hideout
What is the nicest thing someone has done for you? Make me ice cream
Can you tell me something that scares you? BLOOD!
What do you think heaven looks like?  I think it looks like outside with fun things to do.
What is the best thing about you?  I play with lots of friends and I think about unicorns.
If you could be anyone for a day, who would you be and why?  I would be Reagan because she's funny!

Reagan:
What is your favorite color? Blue
What is your favorite treat? Cake!
What is your favorite sport? Soccer
What is your favorite tv show? My Little Pony
What is your favorite book? Wild Kratts
What is your favorite restaurant? The Cafeteria, because they make yummy breakfast
What is your favorite place to visit? Gramma and Grandpa's
Where do you WANT to visit some day? This summer I want to visit the new park.
Who is your best friend? Joel
What’s your favorite thing to do with Anna? Play with toys
What’s your favorite thing to do with Brent? Play outside
What’s your favorite thing to do with Dad? Snuggle
What’s your favorite thing to do with Mom? Snuggle
What is the nicest thing someone has done for you? You always make me food and if I don't like it, you make me new food.
Can you tell me something that scares you? Heights (true story, I've climbed in many a Chickfila PlayPlaces to get this kid down)
What do you think heaven looks like?  I think it looks like clouds with sparkles.
What is the best thing about you?  I can be a kind friend.
If you could be anyone for a day, who would you be and why? God, because He is good & powerful.

I guess none of these really surprised me, but I actually kept the girls separate when I asked them, just so I could hear their earnest responses.  They get lumped together a lot: the girls.  Like they are one little entity; however, they are very distinct little people.  It's easy to get caught up during the school year with the work that seems to surmount around me, and I adore the summer for the very reason I get to stop and just be Reagan and Anna's mommy.  My house becomes a place we live and have fun instead of where we throw our stuff down, eat and sleep.  I LOVE my job and know I'm not cut out to do this 12 months a year, but I do love the two months when this becomes my life.  I hear all the time about how fast kids grow, and while that's true, there's something magical about each age.  A few summers ago I spent my time tracking feedings and poopy diapers and I DO NOT miss that at all.  This age is much more fun.  I love that Anna only wants to be her sister, Reagan loves visiting Gramma and Grandpa's house "in the country," and that both girls seem to have an affinity for red headed little boys. All these answers will probably change by the end of the summer, but I'm enjoying looking for the sparkles in the heavens and maybe a couple less trips to the mailbox (summer budget, you know!). 

Be a Shepherd

A few weeks ago I had the honor of sharing part of the Christmas story with the youngest attendees at church.  While a bit ill prepared, I had the best time sharing with these tiny people one of the best parts of the story that is certainly applicable to our lives in 2016 (almost 2017).  And though I'm not sure if the 2, 3, and 4 year olds took away the deeper meaning I did from the shepherds' story, I left feeling more festive than I had this whole holiday season.

You see, this year, especially the second half of the year, has been really tough.  I guess because I grew up a bit privileged, perhaps a tiny bit spoiled and completely used to getting my way.  That said, my heart is big, and I would do anything to help, as long as I have advanced notice.  Changes in schedules, changes in surroundings, changes in procedures mess me up in a big way.  Those shepherds, they didn't really have advanced notice.  Angels just showed up and told him that the Messiah had been born, and upon this discovery, they didn't just muse over the good news and rejoice in their inner circle.  They packed up, went to Bethlehem and saw that baby. When they left, they rejoiced and shared with EVERYONE that Jesus had been born (this part of the story, I'm sure most of my little listeners understood).

Being a shepherd wasn't the most glamorous job back in the day and herding stinky animals probably was tough.  I feel a bit like I'm herding wild animals for my day job. It's not so glamorous either. It's easy to get lost in the daily grind, but I keep chugging along. In Bible times, shepherds weren't seen as valued or high class in society, but God sent the angels to them.  And they did not disappoint, they spread the good news of the savior's birth. When I first entered the teaching field with hopes of changing the world, I wasn't so wearied.  Herding classes of children that each year bring new and different challenges for several different administrations with different expectations has left me somewhat jaded.  But if I see myself like God sees me, and see the great big things He has done, then I can share good news too (not just that stuff in the common core).

All this said, if you asked me a couple days ago what I wanted to resolute in the new year, I would have said "manage my time better" or "eat healthier, drink less Diet Mountain Dew" or maybe even a "stay more active." Truth is, these are things I try to do most of the time, I just slack off sometimes, and when I do, it's more for my mental stability than anything.  Sometimes, I need a brain break with Candy Crush, Chick-fil-a has some pretty healthy options these days and they don't even serve Pepsi products. What I want to do, more than anything, is to be more like a shepherd.  Instead of focusing on my own circumstances that I may not be the happiest with, I want to share the good news.  I serve an amazing God.  My greatest blessings could never be wrapped up, but warm my heart by holding my hands. A town that I used to just reside in, has allowed us to put down roots.  I have friends that I can call and they would drop everything to just help.  My family has grown this past year by two tiny feet and two huge blue eyes and being an auntie is pretty special. There are so many immeasurable blessings that I don't deserve, but I do not take for granted. If you ask me how I'm doing, not in spite of anything, but because of everything, I'm just fine. I have good news to share. My resolution this year: Be a shepherd.