Head Down Not Face Down

I heard a story once about some children who had been watching a butterfly trying to emerge from its cocoon, and it seemed to be taking it forever.  Not only that, it looked as if the poor thing was working so hard to free itself that the children took pity on the creature and clipped the cocoon open.  Once freed, however, they found that it could not fly...for they were unaware that the butterfly needs the struggle to build much-needed strength for flying.

I too have been on an excruciating journey from the time I made the decision to write a book and actually doing it.  I made a million excuses as to why I’m not qualified, and eventually conceded that at the very least, it would be cathartic.  At the most; enlightening.  Instead I have gone to places I never expected (and didn’t want) to be. 

I also thought if I just keep my nose to the grindstone, I could have this project licked in a year.  

It’s been nearly two. 

Writing has caused me to do a lot of digging; a lot of soul searching and introspection. The deeper I dig, the more I’d like to cover up.  Facing truth is never easy, nor is pretending all is well.  If any of you have gone through therapy, you learn that in order to get well, you must go “through” not “around” the tough stuff.  It isn't fun, but necessary.  Unlike the butterfly, which can only achieve flight one way, the human heart explores a myriad of vehicles toward freedom.

We can educate ourselves, go on trips, and risk building new relationships.  We can become newly wed, new parents, empty nesters, and newly grieving, which are some of the weightiest predicaments for the heart to endure. Some of our most significant growth comes through these times, and like the butterfly, if we take short cuts to being released from the temporary “fix” we’re in, we don’t gain the strength we need to fly. 

Besides short cuts, we can also use a variety of coping strategies…some healthy. 

Some, not so much.  (Ask me about my chocolate addiction!)

I knew that much, but I didn’t know that I am a huge practitioner of avoidance and denial.  I didn’t even know I needed therapy until my doctor recommended it during a yearly physical.  She thought it seemed kind of odd that I hadn’t done so before, but figured there must be some missing element to my healing since I have been under doctors' care (I have a team) for almost ten years for a nervous breakdown.  That IS a long time I agreed.  I tend to run each day full out, and trying to get my body to go as fast as my mind wants to go is sometimes frustrating. So, I agreed to do whatever they thought best.

After lots of talking (not just to my therapist), reading some very relevant books, and a huge amount of soul searching I’ve learned that I have an issue with seeing what’s really there.  I tend to find the positive side  to everything (my twin calls this wearing my rose-colored glasses), minimizing the amount of pain it caused others or has caused me. My "go to" reaction to the tough stuff is to just keep my head down; bent into the wind. I’ve prided myself in being bulletproof.  

But.  I’m not bulletproof. 

I have a physical body, which stores experiences through sensory-laden memories that can affect the body in negative and positive ways.  Like the times my Grandpa would offer me an orange slice.  You know, the gummy candy with crystals of sugar all over the outside.  Yum!  Just thinking about it makes my mouth water and my heart smile.  It’s a place I like to go, so I don’t stop my mind from wandering there... 

Other memories of my childhood, though, are another story.  I’m still in the process of making it all make sense, so no details yet, but in talking to my sister and brother, comparing notes of what we each remember is interesting.  Some things I can vividly recall, while one of my siblings may have completely blocked it.  Like I said, we all have different strategies for “dealing.”

 The Word says we are to “draw near to the throne of grace with confidence that we may receive mercy  and find grace to help in time of need." (Heb. 4:16.)

But I don’t. 

I have trusted the phrases drilled into my conscious and unconscious thoughts.  

“God helps those who help themselves,” and 

“Pull yourself up by your bootstraps!” 

Or as my Grandfather often said as he would push away would-be helpers,"I'm skinnin' this cat, and you ain't holding its tail!"  

All are illustrations of us doing things on our own. 

Barbara Johnson wrote about how we often approach the Throne, ready to lay our troubles down, tell our Father everything that’s weighing down our heart, and then pick those burdens up again like luggage.  Guilty as charged.   

I forget that the same God who formed me in secret, made a difference between day and night, and sent my Savior to pay the price of sin for me...doesn't want me to put my head down, into the wind.  He wants me to learn how to get on my face, and ask for  help instead. 

Full Circle

                                       Full Circle

What a fantastic day!  I have been waiting for it for months!  Since deciding to transition from teaching into speaking, I have spent countless hours learning marketing ideas, studying the trends, being exposed to new methods of using mass media, and most importantly…how to become the kind of speaker I’d like to be.

It’s been quite a journey, but since I love learning new things, I’m none the worse for wear.  I have fussed over web designs and tried out my stories on the kids at school, but today I got a chance for the rubber to finally meet the road!

 A group of lovely ladies at Peace Lutheran Church hosted an event they called “Hilari-tea” and asked me to come be their speaker.  What fun!  All the flavor of high tea with none of the stuffiness!  The whole idea was to thank ladies who have volunteered in raising funds, sewing dresses and bags, helping out at shelters, collecting food, and generally doing all kinds of kindnesses for our community, by serving them in turn.  They prepared finger sandwiches, scrumptious cookies, teacakes, even dipped strawberries, and served tea from silver-plated tea pots into delicate china cups. 

Throughout the time of fellowship, those gathered had an opportunity to share jokes and stories, and then were gracious enough to listen to me as well.

Being able to share with them how important laughter is physically, and how it’s possible even in the most daunting circumstances to find hilarity made some of the stuff I’ve been through…well…almost worthwhile.  It doesn’t make the tough stuff any less painful, but at least that pain can be blessin’ someone else.

I’m so grateful for being able to practice on a real audience, and for all their kind reviews.

Way to go ladies!  Keep up all the goodness!

Downsizing

After years of allowing our home to be hotel, hostel, and habitat, my husband and I are ready to simplify things a little bit by selling it.  We have often left an open invitation in our annual Christmas letters to come and see us, and “We’ll leave a light on for ya.”  That’s still true, but you’ll need to come see us in pairs instead of packs.  This Innkeeper is pooped.  While I have enjoyed the years of game nights (with the majority of my daughter’s class in our home!), the exchange students, hockey players, and Thanksgiving get-togethers, I’m finding it more and more difficult to tend to the housekeeping and get all my other work done too.  Less house should mean less work for me, right? That’s my hope anyway. 

But it’s the first time, in twenty-two years of marriage, that we’re building a house.  I have always balked at the idea of doing so, because I dread having to decide what knobs to put on the kitchen cupboards, what shape I want the towel rods in the bathroom to be, and if the corners of walls should be rounded or square.  I like the challenge of showing up, seeing a space for the first time, and slowly making it a home.  To help make the process easier I went to the library to get books on the best bedroom layouts, fantastic bathroom designs, and the most effective use of kitchen space.  I also searched Pinterest and googled images for ideas, and I have actually started to enjoy the process.

I noticed something; however, when I started leafing through all the books and such, that each beautifully decorated room was accessorized to the hilt.  I tend to have a cluttered mind, with a million thoughts traveling from synapse to synapse at warp speed, so I like my surroundings to have clean, un-cluttered horizontal surfaces.  Page after page of artful displays showed each table, dresser, night table, and armoire was real estate for staging vignettes.  Not one inch was left to set a glass down.  Not one table was cleared for puzzle assembly. 

Ever notice that this is how we tend to do life?

Every spare minute is filled with activity, either by active transport of our bodies or our attention.  I have witnessed my own family members playing games on cell phones during commercial breaks on TV.  This is time that I use to run and put a load of laundry in, hang clothes, fill the dishwasher, or run something upstairs.  I’ve always prided myself in being able to multi-task, or at the very least, use every minute wisely.  But does that mean I’ve really done a good thing?  Have I used every minute like the book designers have filled up every last inch?

If we get so used to the noise, when will we crave time seeking our Savior’s face?

And if we use up all the space of our lives on the inconsequential, when will we notice the needs of others?

Maybe we need to consider downsizing…in every area of our lives. 

Just make sure to leave room for people, and time for reflection.

Funny Sub

The day has been long and exhausting. My head is pounding because it seems like you never get used to the volume of middle school. They were wild today! They said I look like Katy Perry. Even kids I’d never met before stopped at the door to wave and say hello to “Katy Perry.”   I’m forty-three so I’m not sure whether to be happy or horrified.  Comes with the territory.  After five years as a substitute in four school districts I’ve seen a lot.  Can’t ever say you’ve seen it all, because someone will do something that will make you have to eat those words.  Especially when you’re dealing with kids.

My only regret is not taking the time to write all the notable moments down.  Like, the time I had five-year-olds doing “Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes” with me, in German, and without warning the one right next to me puked all over.  Ever try to evacuate twenty-three, five and six-year-olds on the double?  It’s kinda like herding cats!

Then there was the day (one and only day) I was begged to sub for a Kindergarten teacher, even though I vehemently denied I was qualified to do it.  She pleaded with me to go, so I agreed.  It wasn’t long before I had a Principal so mad she had tears streaming down her face as she tried to bring the mayhem to order, five kids in the office writing apology letters, and one girl so upset that she too, was in the office… poised over a wastepaper basket sobbing, “My Mom’s gonna kill me!”   My crime?  Not being able to keep one boy from turning the lights on and off on other kindergarteners using the class bathroom, while three waiting in line start doing the pee-pee dance, or catching the the one in the craft area chasing other kids with scissors, or catch the girls I gave permission to use the bathroom across the hall, who then snuck to the other side of the school (to use the potty there) while I was wrestling Larry, Moe, and Curly playing monkey-in-the-middle on the shortest kid in class!  Needless to say, I am not asked to sub Kindergarten classes anymore…

However, my favorite group is high school, with middle school coming in a very close second.   Like me, most teachers don’t even know they like middle school until they’ve taught a few classes of them.  Then we’re hooked.

When I was still in college, I remember attending the various classes required to obtain a teaching license.  These are the classes that help us understand the physiological and psychological make-up of each age group, behavioral modification techniques, how to incorporate reading in each subject area, and ways to integrate technology into our lessons.  We usually introduced ourselves to each other at the beginning of each new course by announcing our intentions as  professionals in the world of Education.  There were aspiring art teachers, lots of Elementary Ed wannabe’s, and a few guys who wanted to teach high school history.   What I never heard anyone say is that they couldn’t wait to teach middle school.  No one said,”Aren’t they just an adorable age group?”  or “I just love the emotional roller coaster rides of 7^th and 8^th-graders!”   The only thing I could assure them was that I wanted to teach German, and had no desire to teach students who aren’t old enough to when they have to throw up! 

During one of the other classes required for certification, I watched a presentation given by a fellow student, outlining the overall hiring trends for the Department of Education in our State.  Almost dead last (just above Latin) was the need for German teachers.  If you wanted to be a Math or Science teacher, the chances were pretty high you would be scooped up and offered a contract before even having a chance to complete student teaching!  Sigh…

What that meant for me is that I would be subbing for longer than I had hoped.  I didn’t mind the idea of it, because I was really nervous about having a classroom to run of my own, but I was looking forward to having my own kids nonetheless.  Substitute teaching would mean I’d have a bird’s-eye view of how lesson plans looked, could practice some classroom management techniques, and maybe develop a following of students who would one day want to take German because of all the cool things I’d be able to show them.  I know, just like a newlywed, I was a tad bit idealistic.  But I had to give myself a pep-talk about subbing because I am the daughter of a teacher who subbed for eons!  I’m not an idiot.  I remember the early mornings, last-minute calls to God-knows-where, and the stories Mom would come home and tell us about the day. 

I just knew I had to make the best of it, and hoped that the wait wouldn’t be as long as the trends were forecasting.  It’s been five years now, and while I prepare to make a break from teaching in the classroom, I still want to make sure I make the most out of every day I have with kids.   I have thoroughly enjoyed the experience and am supremely thankful for the knowledge I’ve obtained over the last few years, but I am ready to take the opportunity to reach more kids through speaking.   Like I said above, my only regret is not keeping better records of noteworthy events during my time as a sub, something I’d like to rectify by telling you more about the day I started this piece with.

The kids were wild that day.  My very first class of the day initiated the momentum for the rest of the day.  A girl with sharp hearing caught me slurring one of my vowels, and asked where I was from.  Then, a couple of other volleys came in from the outfield, and I answered them all.  But before I could start in on the lesson at hand, one of the answers I had given struck a funny-bone with this crowd, and they let out a roar of laughter that made me fear the teachers in the adjoining  classrooms were going to hate me.  Like trying to coax Jeannie back into her bottle, I tried to quiet the laughter and regain some control over the class.  To no avail.  No matter what I said, they thought it was hilarious.  I was stupefied.  I had no idea what I said that was so funny,  and I had no idea how to make it stop…so I punted.   I bargained with them to allow me to give them the lesson for the day, assign the homework, and then I promised I would answer any more questions they had.  Once they agreed I ran with it, and managed to make it through the class period without anymore outbursts.  Whew!

Unfortunately, word gets around.  Every class after that expected the same as the first class had gotten.  By the end of the day I was sure that the other teachers around me were going to make sure I was never allowed in the building again, and if I was lucky enough to escape their wrath, if feared my reputation would precede me, preventing me from ever living it down. 

Just before the last bell of the day was due to ring, I had a moment to reflect on the day’s events.  Just as I was berating myself for not starting off on a better foot, a sweet girl from the first class of the day came in and delivered the card below. 

 Oh no! Right there in living color!  Evidence that I had indeed lost all control of the classroom!  “The only way they would say I was cool, is because they had fun, and they had fun because I didn’t do my job,”  I worried.

Since then I’ve read the card over and over.  Actually, it’s up on my fridge.  Every time I look at it I re-evaluate how I will use each day.  They have allowed me back in the building, and the kids still talk about me as the “funny sub.”   Now the question remains… did the kids give me my award because I’m a poor substitute for the teacher I covered, or do I revel  in knowing that kids think I’m cool, and hope they learned more than Math that day?