A friend of mine changed her status on Facebook to "If we want to grow, we are always out of our comfort zones." I've heard this sentiment before, usually with the imagery of stagnant ponds that, while they are useful, aren't the beautiful bodies of water that can really make a difference (tell that to the family of tree frogs who thoroughly enjoy the unchanging pond off my backyard, but....point made). This one brings to mind a tender green shoot of a plant, having to push through first earth, then air that is often unforgiving and rarely protecting. Honestly, that plant was safer under a layer of black dirt, even with the beetles scurrying around down there.
I made a choice a few weeks ago to put myself in a new and rather uncomfortable situation: I joined my church's recreational softball league. To put this in context for you, I am very unathletic. I'm tall, overweight, not very coordinated in a gross-motor way, my hand-eye coordination works excellent with embroidery needles but not so much with large balls that could potentially concuss my skull, and I have a multitude of physical problems that make sports difficult (no cartilidge in my knees and fibromyalgia, mainly). I don't even necessarily like sports. I am easily the worst player on the team and not just because I don't even understand all the basic rules of baseball (let alone slow-pitch softball).
The thing is, our city's recreational league rules demand that there be at least four girls playing on each team at all times. The pitcher and catcher must be of opposite genders. At least two girls must be on the infield besides the pitcher/catcher. Batters must be lined up in alternating gender order. If there aren't enough girls on the team, the team forfeits...and loses a costly deposit. Needless to say, our church was having issues getting enough girls. The first few times the pastor asked the congregation for volunteers and a few friends invited me, I shrugged them off. I'm not an athlete. I'll be gone several weekends visiting my boyfriend. It wouldn't work. I'm not comfortable playing sports--and I don't like doing things, especially publically, if I don't think I'll be very good at them.
God had other ideas. Within a week, I had been dumped by my boyfriend and had two ladies practically push me into going to a practice for the team just so I wouldn't be stuck moping around the house, trying to kill off old feelings and deal with being a single woman again. "A little exercise will help distract you, and besides, you need to be around Christian friends right now." I was needed and apparently wanted despite having nothing substantial to offer the team besides my gender. I showed up.
Through a couple practices and a tragic double-header game, I decimated any high hopes of being an asset to the team. I can throw shorter distances ok, but catching is not my strong suit and batting...I'd have better luck if the ball was five feet in diameter. It took me a game and a half to realize, as catcher, that I was supposed to try to catch the foul balls. I kept, to my dismay, squealing and jumping out of the way of close pitches as I batted, terrified of getting hit (not that it kept me from some painful impact bruises). A few bad catches, the ball hitting my left forearm twice with considerable force, ended up jamming the nerve in my arm and I lost the use of my hand for nearly an hour. I tried cracking jokes all the time to relieve the tension I felt, the feelings of being a failure, and basically to keep myself from crying in pain and anger. Not everyone got them...and few of them were laughed at. Apparently my discomfort wasn't so hidden after all.
The logic that a very unathletic girl in athletics probably wouldn't be successful was something to fight against. I was a very intelligent, stubborn, persistent, and often patient person. God wouldn't have pushed me into this activity to make a fool out of me...would he?
Besides a nice dose of humility, something even Paul said was needed for Christians, I believe that God wanted me to stretch myself. I'll never be scouted by a professional team and may never actually hit a ball and get on base in my lifetime (although getting "walked" to first is such a wonderful blessing). I do need to try new things, keeping my focus on being out there, in this crazy uncomfortable world, so I can shine with God's love and be a witness for Him. I can't show my faith if I'm sequestered in my house or only venturing out to do things I know I'm good at (although, if I am willing to remember, I wasn't always good at those things, either).
Surprise of all surprises, I rather like softball. I'm watching baseball games on TV and picking up some ideas. I'm getting excited about games and want to do what I can, as much as I can, to support my church in this ministry. I never would have done this if I hadn't been in so much emotional turmoil over the dissolution of my long-distance romance. Already there is a silver lining, a purpose to losing a guy I thought I could marry someday. Now I'm looking forward to finding a new guy who is even better for me...and who knows. Maybe he'll like softball, too.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
The difference between small and insignificant
I read this at church last week, mostly on a whim (I wrote it that afternoon in the softball dugout) and because a friend of mine and her husband encouraged me to...and I figure that if God speaks through other people to me, I need to start listening more.
Sooooo...the reading went well, even if most of the audience didn't *quite* know what to call it. "Your poem...story...reading...oh, whatever it was, honey, it was good." Hehehe. For your reading pleasure, I present my new poem, still a bit rough around the edges but not half bad. :)
I thought it would be awesome
To have a Mentos God
A God who would drop
Into my Diet Coke Life
And create a chain reaction that would
Douse everyone within a
10-foot radius.
A candy-coated God,
Instantly effective,
Infinitely attractive,
A catalyst for an explosive combustion that would spill
My contents
My heart
My faith
Onto the world.
Instant dazzle.
No work on my part, just a willingness to be open
To His presence.
It worked for others--a bright, passionate light that
Inspired
Oohs and ahhs
Like a 4th of July fireworks show over the Potomac
(Before budgets constricted the celebration).
You've heard about these
Sonic Boom Christians.
They had books written about them,
Their diaries published,
Hallmark movie specials, and
Colorful inspirational inserts in
Sunday bulletins.
Their lives meant something on a grand scale--
And no one could deny the effects of their
Carbonated demise.
So I prayed for the kind of drama that would turn me into
God's perfect 2-liter bottle.
And wished.
And prayed.
And imagined.
And prayed.
All I got was the mundane, very
Un-tv-worthy existance of
An old dollar bill.
No powerful ministry,
No Barbara Walters knocking on my door,
No satisfaction of knowing I have,
In one fell swoop,
Propelled thousands of bubbling Christians to
Heaven's door.
Just a crumpled dollar bill.
I've been forgotten and left behind in the mud,
Caustically bleached in the washer,
Mangled and marred by insensitive people.
The face of a leader that I was
Designed to
Display is
Faded and
Shaded
Almost beyond recognition.
He's still there, but no one seems to pay attention.
I'm not even generic Cola.
All I've done is help Carrie pay this month's rent.
And brought a smile to little Kevin's face when Mama had
Just enough
To buy that Happy Meal.
And symbolized the start of the new business downtown that,
After two years,
Was able to sponsor a youth softball league
And got dozens of kids off the streets.
I was used to minister to a foreign exchange student
During her first Wal-Mart trip with a
Member of Campus Crusade for Christ.
I was used to bail a teenager out of jail
When he thought
No one cared
Anymore.
I was used to send a missionary to China--and his
Brilliant blast to Heaven claimed eighty souls for
Christ before they took
His life.
So maybe I won't implode over the masses in
True Mythbusters Special fashion.
Maybe I won't be a conduit for an impressive shot of
Divine power,
A flash of glory for even the
Blind to follow.
Maybe, in years to come,
No one will remember I existed.
But for right now
Today
I can touch
One
More
Person
In a small way--and that might make a
Beautiful,
Soul-saving difference after all.
It's a multitude of tiny,
Individual bubbles
That overflows the edge.
Sooooo...the reading went well, even if most of the audience didn't *quite* know what to call it. "Your poem...story...reading...oh, whatever it was, honey, it was good." Hehehe. For your reading pleasure, I present my new poem, still a bit rough around the edges but not half bad. :)
I thought it would be awesome
To have a Mentos God
A God who would drop
Into my Diet Coke Life
And create a chain reaction that would
Douse everyone within a
10-foot radius.
A candy-coated God,
Instantly effective,
Infinitely attractive,
A catalyst for an explosive combustion that would spill
My contents
My heart
My faith
Onto the world.
Instant dazzle.
No work on my part, just a willingness to be open
To His presence.
It worked for others--a bright, passionate light that
Inspired
Oohs and ahhs
Like a 4th of July fireworks show over the Potomac
(Before budgets constricted the celebration).
You've heard about these
Sonic Boom Christians.
They had books written about them,
Their diaries published,
Hallmark movie specials, and
Colorful inspirational inserts in
Sunday bulletins.
Their lives meant something on a grand scale--
And no one could deny the effects of their
Carbonated demise.
So I prayed for the kind of drama that would turn me into
God's perfect 2-liter bottle.
And wished.
And prayed.
And imagined.
And prayed.
All I got was the mundane, very
Un-tv-worthy existance of
An old dollar bill.
No powerful ministry,
No Barbara Walters knocking on my door,
No satisfaction of knowing I have,
In one fell swoop,
Propelled thousands of bubbling Christians to
Heaven's door.
Just a crumpled dollar bill.
I've been forgotten and left behind in the mud,
Caustically bleached in the washer,
Mangled and marred by insensitive people.
The face of a leader that I was
Designed to
Display is
Faded and
Shaded
Almost beyond recognition.
He's still there, but no one seems to pay attention.
I'm not even generic Cola.
All I've done is help Carrie pay this month's rent.
And brought a smile to little Kevin's face when Mama had
Just enough
To buy that Happy Meal.
And symbolized the start of the new business downtown that,
After two years,
Was able to sponsor a youth softball league
And got dozens of kids off the streets.
I was used to minister to a foreign exchange student
During her first Wal-Mart trip with a
Member of Campus Crusade for Christ.
I was used to bail a teenager out of jail
When he thought
No one cared
Anymore.
I was used to send a missionary to China--and his
Brilliant blast to Heaven claimed eighty souls for
Christ before they took
His life.
So maybe I won't implode over the masses in
True Mythbusters Special fashion.
Maybe I won't be a conduit for an impressive shot of
Divine power,
A flash of glory for even the
Blind to follow.
Maybe, in years to come,
No one will remember I existed.
But for right now
Today
I can touch
One
More
Person
In a small way--and that might make a
Beautiful,
Soul-saving difference after all.
It's a multitude of tiny,
Individual bubbles
That overflows the edge.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
The 25th Letter
I think God must think Himself to be one heck of a preschool teacher. I mean, He's the Lord of millions of humans who flat-out don't listen, can't survive on their own, and usually end up making messes of EVERYTHING. We get fingerpaint all over the walls, cost a fortune (or your son's life), and consistently forget at times to think of others besides ourselves. We don't always play well with the other kids, and while we still have innocence, it's not always the kind that we truly need to preserve.
My behavior at times over the past week has been much of that of a two-year-old (although I refuse to have a full-on temper tantrum on the floor--my knees won't take the beating anymore). I keep asking God, "Why?" I know He has a reason--adults *always* have a reason, even if they don't know it. A lot of things have fallen apart lately. My jobs are shaky at best, lowering my contract work to half. My heart has been broken by a man I loved. I spent two sleepless nights crying, then staring into the darkness chanting that infamous 25th letter of the alphabet. I've told friends that if I could see some sort of purpose, some sort of reason, some sort of light at the end, that it wouldn't be so bad.
Truth is, while I'm grabbing onto things that may be the very reasons I seek, it doesn't change the facts that I still have to grieve for my lost love and be a lot more financially cautious. There are still consequences for my choices and the choices of others. No man is an island--we all affect each other in ways that may ripple out to be huge blessings...or disasters.
I'm still not sure what God's trying to tell me through this rough patch, but I have suspected a few messages and reminders so far. First, I'm turning to God more than I ever have...not quite enough, but it's definitely a big change in instinctual behavior for me. Instead of isolating myself, which provides just the darkness necessary for brooding, depression, and self-hatred to grow, I've been pushing myself (and letting others push me) into the light. I've joined the church's recreational softball league despite having no athletic talent in that area. I'm conditioning my long-neglected voice and filling in as a substitute on the praise and worship team. I'm seriously considering beginning a PhD program next fall...something I've never really considered pursuing again. I'm starting new projects with friends and have even stumbled into a surprise babysitting job for a family I love. All these things probably wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for losing my job security and my boyfriend.
I will still be cautious, trying not to take on too much as I so often do (and, as keeping busy helps me work through pain and sadness, it's incredibly tempting). God needs me to rest a little more this summer, take care of myself, and really focus in on my relationship with Him. Eventually God will bring me my heart's desire, if it is His will. It's about being patient and believing.
I'm still tempted to say, "NO! I no wanna! Gimme now!" I think God's had enough of rolling his eyes at me for now, though. :)
My behavior at times over the past week has been much of that of a two-year-old (although I refuse to have a full-on temper tantrum on the floor--my knees won't take the beating anymore). I keep asking God, "Why?" I know He has a reason--adults *always* have a reason, even if they don't know it. A lot of things have fallen apart lately. My jobs are shaky at best, lowering my contract work to half. My heart has been broken by a man I loved. I spent two sleepless nights crying, then staring into the darkness chanting that infamous 25th letter of the alphabet. I've told friends that if I could see some sort of purpose, some sort of reason, some sort of light at the end, that it wouldn't be so bad.
Truth is, while I'm grabbing onto things that may be the very reasons I seek, it doesn't change the facts that I still have to grieve for my lost love and be a lot more financially cautious. There are still consequences for my choices and the choices of others. No man is an island--we all affect each other in ways that may ripple out to be huge blessings...or disasters.
I'm still not sure what God's trying to tell me through this rough patch, but I have suspected a few messages and reminders so far. First, I'm turning to God more than I ever have...not quite enough, but it's definitely a big change in instinctual behavior for me. Instead of isolating myself, which provides just the darkness necessary for brooding, depression, and self-hatred to grow, I've been pushing myself (and letting others push me) into the light. I've joined the church's recreational softball league despite having no athletic talent in that area. I'm conditioning my long-neglected voice and filling in as a substitute on the praise and worship team. I'm seriously considering beginning a PhD program next fall...something I've never really considered pursuing again. I'm starting new projects with friends and have even stumbled into a surprise babysitting job for a family I love. All these things probably wouldn't have happened if it hadn't been for losing my job security and my boyfriend.
I will still be cautious, trying not to take on too much as I so often do (and, as keeping busy helps me work through pain and sadness, it's incredibly tempting). God needs me to rest a little more this summer, take care of myself, and really focus in on my relationship with Him. Eventually God will bring me my heart's desire, if it is His will. It's about being patient and believing.
I'm still tempted to say, "NO! I no wanna! Gimme now!" I think God's had enough of rolling his eyes at me for now, though. :)
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
A Christian Walk(through)
While I've never been very "into" video games, computer games have been a part of my life for over a decade. Things have changed a lot since the simplistic MS-DOS adventures--now there are complicated adventure, arcade, and strategy games to tickle my fancy. While most of the time I enjoy bumbling my way around these virtual worlds, figuring out puzzles and discovering the elusive paths to rewards, there are many times when I lose patience or am just a little too eager to reach the end of the game and find out "the ending." It's similar to my impulse I try to control when reading suspense novels--I want to flip to the back and find out whodunit. (Now, when I exercise enough restraint to keep plowing through the book instead, I often end up skimming the reading and staying up all hours of the night until I'm done. Not exactly a better option, although it depends on how you look at it.)
Enter the wonderful invention of walkthroughs. These are postings, sometimes with uber-helpful illustrations (screen captures) that describe, step by step, how to progress through the game. If I can't figure out just the right combination to the secret safe, the answer is just a google away. Annoyed that this "boss" won't keel over so I can rescue the cute, imprisoned kitty? A walkthrough will give me suggestions that usually work perfectly. My anxieties are over, and I can progress confidently, knowing that any future sticking points can be easily solved once again. If only real life could be this simple.
In real life, I'm often worried, confused, frustrated, and even scared. I've been constantly asking God for signs in many respects of my life. My job situation is a little shaky, thanks to the economy; I want a steady, full-time job with benefits. I don't like the insecurity that comes with working two part-time jobs that aren't permanent but rather contract-renewable. I don't like the insecurity of being in a "dating" relationship. I don't like the insecurity of being around people who don't know the meaning of "constructive criticism." I'm scared and frightened and want to flip forward in the book of my life to reassure myself that things are all going to work out. I want to know if it's worth the pain and drama of a long-distance relationship or if my current boyfriend and I are only destined to be friends. I want to know when I'm going to get that job, and if there are avenues I need to start pursuing now (like my PhD) in order to find that job. I beg God almost daily for signs, for revelations. I want concrete, undeniable (or at least certifiable) messages. Billboards would be nice. I want to google my life, find the walkthrough, and examine how to best get through this tricky maze. Then I get frustrated because nothing's popping up, which makes me more scared...and it turns into a vicious cycle.
Like most times in a game (this one being Life, and not the Hasbro version) when I can't see the way out, I realize I've been looking in the wrong place the whole time. God has given me a walkthrough, but I've been ignoring it in favor of things that I think I must do or will help me escape from the painful reality. It's the obvious answer: the Bible.
Now, I'm not saying that all the answers are explicitly in there. Nowhere does it say, "Tamara, you will be married in three years, have five children (keep the youngest away from bees--trust me on that one), be a published author after your 29th rejection, and will be a New York Times Bestselling Author on your third book." It does say a few things about my namesakes, but those two stories are...for another day. :) What the Bible does provide is exactly what I've been asking for: Revelations. Although I am an English professor and enjoy playing around with symbolism occasionally, this book is not what even I, the girl who reads the Oxford English Grammar for fun, would call a satisfying and understandable read. I get all caught up in the minutia of horns and seals and colorful horses that I forget the big picture. It's a walkthrough, and the ultimate ending is there for me to know in black-and-white: God wins. Satan loses. Enter peaceful eternity.
My "minutia" seems enormous to me, but in the scope of eternity, whether or not I get a full-time job or end up marrying my boyfriend is practially insignificant. My jobs, as my pastor says, are primarily to love God, love people, and enlarge Heaven (by leading others to Christ). If I take my focus off my problems and worries and instead focus it on God, I can find that peace and reassurance that I've been searching for. In the end, God wins. In the end, it is HIS will. In the end, He is in control. I just need to focus on what is right in front of me and let God take care of the rest. He's got it. I need to trust Him.
Enter the wonderful invention of walkthroughs. These are postings, sometimes with uber-helpful illustrations (screen captures) that describe, step by step, how to progress through the game. If I can't figure out just the right combination to the secret safe, the answer is just a google away. Annoyed that this "boss" won't keel over so I can rescue the cute, imprisoned kitty? A walkthrough will give me suggestions that usually work perfectly. My anxieties are over, and I can progress confidently, knowing that any future sticking points can be easily solved once again. If only real life could be this simple.
In real life, I'm often worried, confused, frustrated, and even scared. I've been constantly asking God for signs in many respects of my life. My job situation is a little shaky, thanks to the economy; I want a steady, full-time job with benefits. I don't like the insecurity that comes with working two part-time jobs that aren't permanent but rather contract-renewable. I don't like the insecurity of being in a "dating" relationship. I don't like the insecurity of being around people who don't know the meaning of "constructive criticism." I'm scared and frightened and want to flip forward in the book of my life to reassure myself that things are all going to work out. I want to know if it's worth the pain and drama of a long-distance relationship or if my current boyfriend and I are only destined to be friends. I want to know when I'm going to get that job, and if there are avenues I need to start pursuing now (like my PhD) in order to find that job. I beg God almost daily for signs, for revelations. I want concrete, undeniable (or at least certifiable) messages. Billboards would be nice. I want to google my life, find the walkthrough, and examine how to best get through this tricky maze. Then I get frustrated because nothing's popping up, which makes me more scared...and it turns into a vicious cycle.
Like most times in a game (this one being Life, and not the Hasbro version) when I can't see the way out, I realize I've been looking in the wrong place the whole time. God has given me a walkthrough, but I've been ignoring it in favor of things that I think I must do or will help me escape from the painful reality. It's the obvious answer: the Bible.
Now, I'm not saying that all the answers are explicitly in there. Nowhere does it say, "Tamara, you will be married in three years, have five children (keep the youngest away from bees--trust me on that one), be a published author after your 29th rejection, and will be a New York Times Bestselling Author on your third book." It does say a few things about my namesakes, but those two stories are...for another day. :) What the Bible does provide is exactly what I've been asking for: Revelations. Although I am an English professor and enjoy playing around with symbolism occasionally, this book is not what even I, the girl who reads the Oxford English Grammar for fun, would call a satisfying and understandable read. I get all caught up in the minutia of horns and seals and colorful horses that I forget the big picture. It's a walkthrough, and the ultimate ending is there for me to know in black-and-white: God wins. Satan loses. Enter peaceful eternity.
My "minutia" seems enormous to me, but in the scope of eternity, whether or not I get a full-time job or end up marrying my boyfriend is practially insignificant. My jobs, as my pastor says, are primarily to love God, love people, and enlarge Heaven (by leading others to Christ). If I take my focus off my problems and worries and instead focus it on God, I can find that peace and reassurance that I've been searching for. In the end, God wins. In the end, it is HIS will. In the end, He is in control. I just need to focus on what is right in front of me and let God take care of the rest. He's got it. I need to trust Him.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
An Awkward First...
Tonight I went to my first birthday party. Granted...there might have been party or two in my very young past, but I don't really remember much about them and so I don't really count them. I've been invited to a handful...but I don't usually go. Tonight I expected to spend about an hour singing a very familiar song, watching people eat cake, and then go home to talk to my boyfriend (long-distance relationship) and do some grading. Instead, I got schooled on birthday fun.
I must say that my favorite parts of the evening weren't the quick chats with new and good friends, or even learning a new card game with my pastor and several other women. It was playing with the babies. I adore children...and hanging out with the pastor's kids really reminded me of just how much I miss being with them on a regular basis. Kids just fill this hole in my heart. Maybe it's knowing I'm very much needed, desired, appreciated. Little ones are good at showing that. :)
I did have a good time. I did feel rather awkward at times. While I had my excuses--ranging from a very long day at work, being around a lot of people (I get overwhelmed in crowds), dealing with fibromyalgia symptoms, and feeling rather exhausted--most of it was due to me not really knowing how to deal with these people. They were all from the church, so I was watching what I said and did (some jokes fell flat quickly, and then I just didn't know what to say). I felt intimidated by the overexuberant personality of my pastor, something that usually makes me smile but tonight made me feel like I wanted to withdraw. Then again, I have been going through a self-isolation phase, where I desire to be alone or just with a small group of a select few.
I was so worried about doing or saying the wrong thing, figuring out how to interact with people, and trying to hide my social anxieties that I forgot the most important part of fellowship: relaxing and trusting the people around me. They weren't going to judge me because I got frustrated learning a new game or if I hadn't gotten up in time to avoid breaking a chair (talk about uber embarrassing). Instead of taking a deep breath, being myself, and laughing and having a good time, I put on a mask and dropped details to get across that I wasn't quite myself and shouldn't be pushed into things. It worked, for the most part, if by working it meant that I felt awkward and was grateful for an excuse (grading) to eventually leave.
I was honest, but not in the right way or for the right reasons. I could argue very well that my behavior was understandable....but understandable doesn't equate being right. Let's face it, folks--I'm human and I screwed up again. :)
If there's another party that I happen to get invited to, I'll have to be brave. I'll have to stop hiding behind my tiredness, my fears, my anxieties and just let myself shine, both the good and the bad. If I'm truly to bond with these members of the church, if I'm seriously thinking about taking a step towards membership myself for the first time, then I need to be trusting in God. He'll make sure that while I may not be the life of the party (who can outshine Pastor John...really?), I can be a well-burning candle among the festive midst.
I must say that my favorite parts of the evening weren't the quick chats with new and good friends, or even learning a new card game with my pastor and several other women. It was playing with the babies. I adore children...and hanging out with the pastor's kids really reminded me of just how much I miss being with them on a regular basis. Kids just fill this hole in my heart. Maybe it's knowing I'm very much needed, desired, appreciated. Little ones are good at showing that. :)
I did have a good time. I did feel rather awkward at times. While I had my excuses--ranging from a very long day at work, being around a lot of people (I get overwhelmed in crowds), dealing with fibromyalgia symptoms, and feeling rather exhausted--most of it was due to me not really knowing how to deal with these people. They were all from the church, so I was watching what I said and did (some jokes fell flat quickly, and then I just didn't know what to say). I felt intimidated by the overexuberant personality of my pastor, something that usually makes me smile but tonight made me feel like I wanted to withdraw. Then again, I have been going through a self-isolation phase, where I desire to be alone or just with a small group of a select few.
I was so worried about doing or saying the wrong thing, figuring out how to interact with people, and trying to hide my social anxieties that I forgot the most important part of fellowship: relaxing and trusting the people around me. They weren't going to judge me because I got frustrated learning a new game or if I hadn't gotten up in time to avoid breaking a chair (talk about uber embarrassing). Instead of taking a deep breath, being myself, and laughing and having a good time, I put on a mask and dropped details to get across that I wasn't quite myself and shouldn't be pushed into things. It worked, for the most part, if by working it meant that I felt awkward and was grateful for an excuse (grading) to eventually leave.
I was honest, but not in the right way or for the right reasons. I could argue very well that my behavior was understandable....but understandable doesn't equate being right. Let's face it, folks--I'm human and I screwed up again. :)
If there's another party that I happen to get invited to, I'll have to be brave. I'll have to stop hiding behind my tiredness, my fears, my anxieties and just let myself shine, both the good and the bad. If I'm truly to bond with these members of the church, if I'm seriously thinking about taking a step towards membership myself for the first time, then I need to be trusting in God. He'll make sure that while I may not be the life of the party (who can outshine Pastor John...really?), I can be a well-burning candle among the festive midst.
Sunday, April 25, 2010
Lessons for the Teacher, Part I
Part of what makes an excellent leader, and teacher, is the desire and ability to continue learning. For teachers, it's often called professional development. We have days set aside every semester for us to get together and talk, discuss policies, share teaching strategies. There are conferences where we can meet people from across the state or even across the country. We leave perhaps tired from the travel, but inspired and exhilirated, ready to take on the challenges of educating others all over again.
The problem with conferences is not just the cost, or the travel, but rather the infrequency of them. While I was a graduate student at Truman, I was able to go to three major educational conferences, mostly because there was funding available for us. Since graduating, these incredible large-scale meetings of like-minded people have been mostly out of my reach. There's little to no funding on the community college level, and since I work two jobs, getting out of responsibilities for five or more days at a time is a huge challenge at best. The euphoric inspiration, the feeling of belonging, and the excitement of being in this field at this time fades quickly as I reenter reality. If only I could have these experiences more often, get this sort of refueling on a regular, even weekly or daily, basis.
Thing is, I can.
The center of my life, the rock that keeps everything else grounded, is God. Just as I want to excel in my profession, I desire even more to excel in my walk with Him. I don't need to depend on the occasional revivals, camp meetings, or brilliant "lightbulb" moments that come once in a while and dissipate as I forget the lessons learned. What I need are the daily reminders and weekly meetings with like-minded Christians.
Enter "Quiet Time" and "Church."
Church isn't as much of an issue as it used to be. After years of allowing fear to keep me from taking a chance on a place to fellowship and worship, I have found a church home that ministers to my heart. I have rediscovered old friends, made new ones, and am touched by the truth and beauty in the people there. Quiet time...is another matter. My family and the few women who have either been blessed or cursed by having to live with me all know that daily regimens, outside personal hygiene, are not one of my strong suits. Vitamins. Daily writing time. Exercise. Reading. Homework. You name a habit, I've tried, and failed, over and over, to develop and keep it. I've tried methods to help me, ranging from positive reinforcement, accountability partners (who either forget or are fooled by my tricks to "get out of trouble"), punishment, deprivation, and even financial retribution. Nothing works for long. That first day that I let myself slide, that I say it's ok for me to skip...is the beginning of the end.
If I want to see God working in my life, if I'm sincere about my desire to be an instrument for Him, if I want to weather life's storms better than "just surviving," then I need to get with God's program. As many have said, "How would your significant other feel if you didn't talk to them every day, only called when they needed something, or made excuses every time you wanted to spend time with them?" I understood this before I had a boyfriend, but now that I'm in a serious relationship where we DO talk every day, I see the huge impact this has a lot more clearly...and I'm feeling the guilt.
Thing is, guilt isn't to punish us, but to push us into action. If we feel bad about lying, then we need to be honest. If we feel bad about isolating ourselves, then we need to take a chance and fellowship. If we feel bad because we're using/ignoring God, then we need to take time to be with Him.
It's not going to be easy. I have lots of excuses. I'm making a committment, though, starting today, that I'm going to challenge myself to be the best daughter of the King I can be. One small step at a time, one goal at a time; the most important one I can have is my relationship with God.
Step 1, Day 1: Daily time, set aside, to read my Bible and pray (not just for what I want/need, but to really talk/commune with God).
The problem with conferences is not just the cost, or the travel, but rather the infrequency of them. While I was a graduate student at Truman, I was able to go to three major educational conferences, mostly because there was funding available for us. Since graduating, these incredible large-scale meetings of like-minded people have been mostly out of my reach. There's little to no funding on the community college level, and since I work two jobs, getting out of responsibilities for five or more days at a time is a huge challenge at best. The euphoric inspiration, the feeling of belonging, and the excitement of being in this field at this time fades quickly as I reenter reality. If only I could have these experiences more often, get this sort of refueling on a regular, even weekly or daily, basis.
Thing is, I can.
The center of my life, the rock that keeps everything else grounded, is God. Just as I want to excel in my profession, I desire even more to excel in my walk with Him. I don't need to depend on the occasional revivals, camp meetings, or brilliant "lightbulb" moments that come once in a while and dissipate as I forget the lessons learned. What I need are the daily reminders and weekly meetings with like-minded Christians.
Enter "Quiet Time" and "Church."
Church isn't as much of an issue as it used to be. After years of allowing fear to keep me from taking a chance on a place to fellowship and worship, I have found a church home that ministers to my heart. I have rediscovered old friends, made new ones, and am touched by the truth and beauty in the people there. Quiet time...is another matter. My family and the few women who have either been blessed or cursed by having to live with me all know that daily regimens, outside personal hygiene, are not one of my strong suits. Vitamins. Daily writing time. Exercise. Reading. Homework. You name a habit, I've tried, and failed, over and over, to develop and keep it. I've tried methods to help me, ranging from positive reinforcement, accountability partners (who either forget or are fooled by my tricks to "get out of trouble"), punishment, deprivation, and even financial retribution. Nothing works for long. That first day that I let myself slide, that I say it's ok for me to skip...is the beginning of the end.
If I want to see God working in my life, if I'm sincere about my desire to be an instrument for Him, if I want to weather life's storms better than "just surviving," then I need to get with God's program. As many have said, "How would your significant other feel if you didn't talk to them every day, only called when they needed something, or made excuses every time you wanted to spend time with them?" I understood this before I had a boyfriend, but now that I'm in a serious relationship where we DO talk every day, I see the huge impact this has a lot more clearly...and I'm feeling the guilt.
Thing is, guilt isn't to punish us, but to push us into action. If we feel bad about lying, then we need to be honest. If we feel bad about isolating ourselves, then we need to take a chance and fellowship. If we feel bad because we're using/ignoring God, then we need to take time to be with Him.
It's not going to be easy. I have lots of excuses. I'm making a committment, though, starting today, that I'm going to challenge myself to be the best daughter of the King I can be. One small step at a time, one goal at a time; the most important one I can have is my relationship with God.
Step 1, Day 1: Daily time, set aside, to read my Bible and pray (not just for what I want/need, but to really talk/commune with God).
Saturday, April 24, 2010
A Wake-Up Call....without the hotel bill.
It's been nearly a year. Wow. Talk about not following through. :) It'd be ridiculous for me to try to post an entire year's worth of news, musings, and revelations. That's something I can use to fill in future days when I feel I have nothing/little to say (and those who live around me...know that is never really true).
How do I restart a part of my life so obviously abandoned? With the truth.
I was recently prompted (read: coerced) into going to the doctor. I had ignored a persistent fever and a myraid of other symptoms for two weeks...and some of the people I love were worried, especially my boyfriend. Wait--scratch that. He was not worried. He was concerned. Learned that distinction.
The sinus infection was a new deal, but not wholly unexpected. The other news...dropped me like a wobbly water balloon down five stories onto the college freshman-littered sidewalk below. My blood pressure was sky-high. Granted, I had excuses. I've been sick for two weeks. I had only two hours of sleep the night previous. It's the most stressful time of the year for me--approaching finals. Didn't matter to the doctor. He gave me an ultimatum: start taking care of myself and get on a medication for the problem, or end up having a heart attack/stroke at the ripe old age of 25. I got the prescription filled within the hour.
God (and many other people--maybe He was speaking through them, maybe it was just that obvious) has been trying to get through my stubborn, willful, self-sacrificing head for a long time that I am doing way too much. I'll argue the point until...well...I have a heart attack. I've always worked multiple jobs, sometimes two or three while going to school full-time. I'm used to having lots of committments, using the stress to get me through the long hours of the day. I thrive on being needed, being wanted--and what better way to constantly feel needed/wanted than to put your hand in as many projects as possible? This, however, is not God's plan. At least, it's not for me. Facing the very real prospect of an impending premature death rather emphasizes this.
I've been worried about losing half of my teaching contract this fall, not finding a full-time with benefits job teaching at a college, trying to deal with the insecurities of a long-distance relationship. What God has been waiting, much more patiently than I ever could, for is for me to stop and really sit and listen to him. Instead of burning my candle at both ends and six different places along the middle, He wants me to be a steady, strong light to others. He has given me gifts for teaching, writing, ministering, creating, loving. I can't use any of these to the best of my abilities if I don't follow His plan for them.
So here's a step in the right direction. I'm going to keep up with my blog, using this platform to minister to others who are involved in academia, are writers, both, or neither. I'm going to stop fussing internally about money and trust that God will provide (and that I really don't need to overspend like I tend to do). I'm going to enact more self-discipline to make myself more dependent on God and independent of the world. It's going to be a long road, but I'm anxious to start walking.
Well, maybe not at 12:30am. Perhaps I should start another positive habit, getting enough sleep each night, and discuss some the particulars...later. :)
Take care, all, and welcome to a new chapter.
How do I restart a part of my life so obviously abandoned? With the truth.
I was recently prompted (read: coerced) into going to the doctor. I had ignored a persistent fever and a myraid of other symptoms for two weeks...and some of the people I love were worried, especially my boyfriend. Wait--scratch that. He was not worried. He was concerned. Learned that distinction.
The sinus infection was a new deal, but not wholly unexpected. The other news...dropped me like a wobbly water balloon down five stories onto the college freshman-littered sidewalk below. My blood pressure was sky-high. Granted, I had excuses. I've been sick for two weeks. I had only two hours of sleep the night previous. It's the most stressful time of the year for me--approaching finals. Didn't matter to the doctor. He gave me an ultimatum: start taking care of myself and get on a medication for the problem, or end up having a heart attack/stroke at the ripe old age of 25. I got the prescription filled within the hour.
God (and many other people--maybe He was speaking through them, maybe it was just that obvious) has been trying to get through my stubborn, willful, self-sacrificing head for a long time that I am doing way too much. I'll argue the point until...well...I have a heart attack. I've always worked multiple jobs, sometimes two or three while going to school full-time. I'm used to having lots of committments, using the stress to get me through the long hours of the day. I thrive on being needed, being wanted--and what better way to constantly feel needed/wanted than to put your hand in as many projects as possible? This, however, is not God's plan. At least, it's not for me. Facing the very real prospect of an impending premature death rather emphasizes this.
I've been worried about losing half of my teaching contract this fall, not finding a full-time with benefits job teaching at a college, trying to deal with the insecurities of a long-distance relationship. What God has been waiting, much more patiently than I ever could, for is for me to stop and really sit and listen to him. Instead of burning my candle at both ends and six different places along the middle, He wants me to be a steady, strong light to others. He has given me gifts for teaching, writing, ministering, creating, loving. I can't use any of these to the best of my abilities if I don't follow His plan for them.
So here's a step in the right direction. I'm going to keep up with my blog, using this platform to minister to others who are involved in academia, are writers, both, or neither. I'm going to stop fussing internally about money and trust that God will provide (and that I really don't need to overspend like I tend to do). I'm going to enact more self-discipline to make myself more dependent on God and independent of the world. It's going to be a long road, but I'm anxious to start walking.
Well, maybe not at 12:30am. Perhaps I should start another positive habit, getting enough sleep each night, and discuss some the particulars...later. :)
Take care, all, and welcome to a new chapter.
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