My Issue with Social Media

Social media is a great tool and resource, but it's also an incredible nuisance...if that's even the right word. Obviously, this blog is a form of social media, and you've either gotten to this blog because I've shared the link on Facebook, Twitter, or both. Now that I've said that please don't think of me as a hypocrite. 

Lately I've felt convicted to cut back on Facebook. I hate that I get on Facebook and see girls I went to school with taking pictures of themselves making out with boys, beer can in hand, middle finger up. It breaks my heart to see sweet girls who used to be "little" when I danced with them knowing how to pose like Kim Kardashian with their boobs and butt sticking out. What really gets me, is when some people post pictures of half-naked girls saying what they'd like to "do" to her. I immediately delete those friends. Another reason I dislike Facebook: I stalk people. Everyone does. So I start out on a "friend's" page, AKA someone I went to middle school with who had a post/picture that showed up on my news feed. From that "friend" I end up on one of friend's pages, and so on and on, and eventually I'm on some random girl's facebook that lives in God knows where, coveting her life, her faith, her hair, her beauty, her body, her guy friends, basically, her everything. The one thing I don't covet are people's families, because, let's face it, I have the world's greatest one. Anyway, after I'm done coveting her life, the process starts ALL over again until I'm near tears thinking about fat, ugly, unworthy, and unlucky I am. And is this the truth?! No. Why covet other people's lives when I have an undeniably loving God, a family many would love to have, amazing friends, a great job working for and with people I adore, unbelievable sorority sisters who encourage me in my faith, and so much more. This Facebook stalking is especially bad given the really bad place I'm in emotionally. I'm barely hanging on, barely get through a day without shedding some tears, allow the evil one to take over my heart and thoughts, so why look at other people's "amazing" lives when I hardly take the time to look at my blessings? I've thought about deactivating my account for a while, but the downside is that it's a great way to communicate with my residents, it's a way my mom and sisters can be instantly updated on things I'm doing at school, it's a way to look at my precious niece and nephews, and it's an effective way to communicate with my entire sorority and staff. Still, lately I've been trying to only look at the notifications, check what I need to check, and be done. This is a challenge seeing as I've been in the habit of being on Facebook since I was 14. 

Now Twitter...

I like Twitter more than Facebook for the fact that I can't end up on some random person's page coveting their life. HOWEVER, and this is a big one, I get really disappointed in the things I see. I follow celebrities, which is sometimes fun, but other times not. I used to follow "Condescending Wonka" which was really funny at first, until whoever manages the account started tweeting so much about sex positions and all sorts of derogatory comments and curse words. What really made me angry was that our school newspaper, the Red and Black, tweeted the "steamiest lines from 50 Shades of Grey" yesterday. I follow that newspaper to learn about stuff going on around campus to inform my residents about and for my own general interest. I made a moral choice not to read 50 Shades of Grey. It goes against a lot of what I believe in, and too much of any type of lustful behavior is a bad thing. I've seen people become so addicted to that book that it's all they think about, which means they're thinking about things like BDSM or whatever the acronym is, and other "sexy" thoughts. I purposely chose not to read that book, so I really did not appreciate reading those "steamy" lines. I felt corrupted and awkward when I would start to read the tweet thinking it was about an article, only to find out it was about an article of clothing, or lack of. 

Alright, enough with my rant. I'm really trying to read and surround myself with uplifting words, things and people. Today, per the recommendation of my big sis, Ansley, I've started reading Beth Moore's Believing God. I've only read the first chapter, and I was already on my knees praying and crying. I also have an incredible praise though, and that's for my amazing residents. I prayed fervently for them since May, and I prayed God would hand pick the girls for me and me for the girls, and He has proven that He has done so. These girls. Are. Amazing. They're kind and open and come hang out in my room to watch TV and talk. Many have approached me about their love for Jesus and we've gotten to talk about Him. Even though I'm struggling a lot right now with my anxiety and depression, I know at least one of these girls will have a question to ask me, or need me for something, so glory to God for that. I ask that you all please continue on this journey with me, and keep me and my residents in your thoughts and prayers. I'm using this as a time to serve God through serving my residents. Please pray I don't get too distracted with the battle raging within my head and heart that I forget to enjoy these little joys and moments in my life. 

Smile, God loves you!

Victoria

"I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go."

-Isaiah 48:17

Surrender

Hi my name is Victoria Rivard and I am a perfectionist. There, I said it.
As I sit writing this both Caroline and Drew are napping which means I'm alone with my thoughts which often means "DANGER AHEAD" so here we go.

So, given that I'm a perfectionist, I like things neat, tidy, and organized (although you wouldn't know that from my room at home right now, just ask my mom!) I have high expectations for myself, and I like to succeed, failure is NOT an option. I plan everything, I mean everything. My planner is color-coordinated. I like to think I can put everything, mentally and physically, in neat little boxes and tie pretty ribbons around them and keep them nice and organized. I'm pretty sure God has an incredible sense of humor. I guess I should have realized this when I ended up at UGA when I was 18. If you had asked me my senior year, I was NOT going to UGA. I was going to Furman...until I realized I couldn't afford it. Little did I know that UGA was exactly the place for me. I wouldn't trade my experiences there or the friends I've made for the world. I also thought I was going to be an elementary school counselor...then I became an English Education major at the end of Freshman year. (Let's be real about that change though, no one was surprised given the amount I read and love editing papers.) So this last year I had my entire future planned out. Again, God laughed, and because of recent events, that plan has been shattered. All of those pretty little mental boxes that I talked about? Yea, they've been opened and they're scrambled all over my brain. So lately, with me mourning the beautiful future I had planned out, I've been clinging to my faith. I feel like I'm in a hurricane and my faith is this tiny little twig of a tree than I'm holding onto for dear life. But isn't that we're called to do as Christians; cling to our faith when it seems there is nothing else?

I've mentioned before that I've been doing this 3 week bible study called "Living a Surrendered Life," well who knew it would call you to surrender at the end of it? It seems stupid, but I didn't think like that. So these last few months, and really last year, I've been fervently praying for God to show me SOMETHING, ANYTHING to save me, to show me life is worth it. Well as I desperately prayed on my knees about two nights ago this voice told me "tomorrow." So all day yesterday I was thinking, "alright, God, was that really you, or was it the evil one putting his stupid little voice in my head again?" I prayed that the voice be God's. Well, the bible verse of the day yesterday was about how God has done his work today and it's already been decided...something along those lines, so I knew the voice was God's. Then a sweet friend of mine from high school reached out to me. She's been through a similar situation to mine and offered some wonderful, heart felt words of encouragement in my faith. Man, they were words sent straight from God's mouth. I'm so glad she allowed the Spirit to move her to talk to me.

Before last night, I felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff and I needed to jump into the waters below. Land is what I know: it's predictable, safe, and I can keep track and plan what happens there. But the water? That's where God wants me to be, that's where He is, but I can't control what goes on down there, and I'm full of fear and anxiety.

Then last night, my last night of the bible study, the scripture was the well known Matthew 16:24-26: "Then Jesus said to his disciples, 'Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world yet forfeit their soul?'" So the whole "pick up your cross and follow me" has been my motto for awhile, but I felt like my cross was twice my size and I was more dragging it to follow Jesus than simply picking it up and walking, but I'm sure a lot of us feel that way. "Whoever loses their life for me will find it." It's like God said, "well there ya go, Vic. It's right there. I'm commanding you to jump," and then He pushed me off that cliff. Cue the "Free Fallin'" music. I needed this journey of the last year to get me to the edge of that cliff. I had no where else to go but jump, but I was too afraid. In the words of the woman who wrote the bible study, I had to say "yes God, I surrender." And if you know me well, I do admit when I'm wrong, but I HATE giving up on things. But I'm not actually giving up, I'm jumping into those waters knowing my Savior is in them, standing with His arms wide open welcoming me to His Father's plan. The journey is by no means over, I've just started. Like I said in a previous post, I've been a believer since I was 16, but I've never fully surrendered to God's will. It's like half of me was completely surrendered, but my mind held me back. I wanted His will to be done, but I also wanted what I want (selfish, huh?) Am I afraid? Yes. Should I be? No, and I know that. I know God will give me blessings beyond my belief, and His plan is far more beautiful that anything I could imagine, but that perfectionist personality likes to get in the way.

Last night, I said "yes."

Have you surrendered?

Smile, God loves you!
-Victoria

Sweet Caroline

I think we've already established that I'm weird. Just to add to the weirdness, you all know I'm obsessed with my niece and nephews. I annoy my friends with pictures and stories of them. But, you know what? I don't really care. I love them like they were my own.

During my senior year of high school, my AP Language teacher gave an assignment to write an autobiography about an event that changed our lives. The assignment just so happened to come about a week after Caroline was born. So what did I write about? Sweet Caroline. I started out the paper with the lyrics to the infamous song, "Sweet Caroline, bum bum bum." On family road trips, my dad used to make sure we screamed the "bum bum bum" at the top of our lungs. Here's a disclaimer though, she wasn't named after that song, it was just a connection I had made. Well, on the day Caroline was born, I was at school and received a text from my mom that said, "Jackie's in labor. Please go let their dogs out." Really, Mom, really? That was it? Of course now this is something my family laughs about now; my mom was at the hospital with Jackie and Andrew, so she was slightly distracted. Needless to say, I left school and headed to let the dogs out, then to the hospital.

As I drove to Jackie and Andrew's to let the dogs out, I was so excited. I had never been around a new born, and since Caroline was my first niece, I had anxiously awaited her arrival. Because I'm so much younger than my sisters, we always joked around that I'd be the "cool" aunt: the one to pick them up from school and get ice cream and go see a movie, the one who could have them over for sleepovers and spoil them rotten, which I do, with pleasure : ]

On my way to the hospital, I looked up on that sunny January day, not a cloud in the sky, and saw a rainbow- a sign from God. It was like He was saying, "remember this, Victoria. A special little girl is about to capture your heart." Kristy was on a business trip and wouldn't arrive until the next day, and Courtney was living in California at the time, already booking a flight to come to Marietta, so I represented the Rivard sisters at this special time. When Caroline came into this world, we (both Workmon and Rivard families) headed up to meet the precious angel. I had never seen a newborn before, let alone held one, and Caroline was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I don't understand how people can see, or hold such a tiny creature and not believe in God's love. She was so fragile and special. Now, Faith is a family name, given to my great-grandmother, then became my mother's middle name, my middle name, and Caroline's middle name. In a way, she is kind of named after me (sort of). I wanted to be with that little girl day and night. I don't have a younger sibling, so I've never known the protective love you can feel for someone younger than you, but the second I held that little girl, I felt it. Ever since that day she was born, I've felt so convicted that some day Caroline will need me, and no one else. I don't know how or why, but I just know. I've shared this with my mom, and she's had the same conviction.

Here we are 2 1/2 years later, and Caroline brings so much joy to my life. She certainly is a blonde haired, blue eyed beauty, but most importantly, she has a gorgeous heart. The best days while I was at school this last year were when she would call or Skype me. Just hearing the words "Hi Towia!" warm my heart and bring a smile to my face. Of course now she has mastered the "R" so it's "Toria," but I love it just the same. I've been blessed this summer because Jackie and Andrew asked me to watch the kids for a few days a week, and I love it. I love getting to watch the milestones in her (and my nephews') lives. From her first steps to first words to learning to use the potty, I've seen it all, and I thank God for that. Caroline is HILARIOUS. She knows just what to say to make me laugh, whether it's her expert singing abilities, being sweet to her little brother, or responding with "Princess Ballerina" when you ask her what her name is. And perhaps the greatest thing is that she already has a heart for the Lord. Just today she was singing worship songs to Drew while having her hand on his head like she was blessing him. I was having a rough day the other day, so I started praying, and Caroline came up next to me and folded her hands and started whispering then turned to me and said, "AMEN!" One of her favorite books right now is "The Stable Where Jesus was Born," and a few days ago she fell asleep in her crib reading it but it fell out and I looked on the video monitor and heard her screaming "JESUS! JESUS! I NEED MY JESUS!" Granted she was talking about a book, but still. When I have a bad day, I just need to get around Caroline and she will make me laugh and smile, guaranteed. She is proof that a little faith (get it? Our middle name?) is all you need to make you happy. A few weeks ago I was having a really rough day and crying to my mom and Courtney, well, sobbing is more like it. Caroline walked in, saw me, ran to me, handed me CoCo (her blanket) gave me a kiss, and sat in my lap. She made me cry even more because of the compassion held in that 2-year-old heart. I am so grateful God gave me the opportunity to spend so much time with Caroline and Drew this summer, and the time to spend in North Carolina with Robby.

While in North Carolina, I again had a rough night and was talking with Courtney and told her sometimes the only reason I get up in the morning is for those 3 little faces that belong to Caroline, Robby, and Drew. I don't want them to think their Aunt Toria/RaRa will ever leave them, I want to be able to share my journey with them some day, and let them know it's OK to be weak. Courtney asked me what I would do for them, and I said I would walk through fire. She gave me a hug and said, "Kiddo, this is fire." So I guess here I am, walking through fire for that one day when Caroline will need me. (I know they all need me in some way, and I love them all with every fiber of my being, no one more than the other, but I just have such a strong conviction about that little girl.) I hope some day the fire cools and I can walk with a little more confidence, but right now I walk through it for three little faces I couldn't love any more than I already do.

"I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us."
- Romans 8:18

Smile, God loves you,
-Victoria

Strength

***WARNING*** Personal post ahead, if you don't care to read it, please don't.

If you know me, you know I'm not good at receiving compliments. Not because I'm humble, but because I usually don't believe them. When people tell me I'm pretty, I usually think about all of the negative things about my body. When they tell me I'm nice or kind, I think about all of the things I've done in my life that have hurt people. But perhaps the compliment I truly dislike is when people tell me I'm strong. Because of things I've been through in my life, I've often been told I'm "the strongest person [someone] knows". I know this is meant to lift me up, but it actually breaks me down. Because, in truth, I'm probably one of the weakest people on this earth.

My father died when I was six, so I was very young. My family told me I was the rock, or the glue that held them together because I could forget what happened and laugh, I was still discovering things about the world they already knew. I was also a reason to discover a new "normal" in the house. I know my family told me this out of gratitude and to make me feel good, but since then I put pressure on myself to be strong. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE when people count on me, but at 6 years old I learned how to put on a fake smile and pretend everything was ok. I never told my mom or sisters that people taunted me at school, how they called me a cry baby if God forbid I remembered my dad died and shed some tears at six. I never told them that they wrote that I didn't have a dad on the white boards during centers. I never told them that this one boy would chase me around the playground saying "your dad is dead, and it's your fault." I know kids don't understand, but they didn't realize that I sat on the top step listening to my father, my hero, take his last gasps of air, or that I watched my mom give him CPR to no avail, or that images of seeing my Daddy lying on a hospital table not waking up haunt my memories. In case you didn't know, that whole "stick and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me" saying is a load of crap. I would much rather have rocks thrown at my head than have those daggers to my heart. As I've grown older I've forgiven those kids. I pray for them and hope they've found happiness in their lives, and bottom line, I pray they never have to know the pain of losing someone so close to them.

When I was 13, I found my grandmother dead on Christmas morning. My grandparents moved in when I was 8. My grandma was my best friend. She knew me better than anyone else. She knew that I struggled with anxiety and depression; she saw past every fake smile; she knew I was in pain, and I lost her. I saw the look in my grandfather's eyes when he realized his wife of 59 years wasn't waking up. I had to tell my mother that her mother was dead. One thing that was different though, was that I had good friends who didn't taunt me this time, people understood. That day haunts me too. But on that Christmas morning, I vowed that I would once again pull my family through this. So I pulled out my old best friend the fake smile and pretended everything was OK. I broke one day though, and started seeing a counselor.

By the time I was 16, I was such an expert at this fake smile and "being strong" and pretending everything was OK that I fooled my counselor. I wasn't OK. I didn't want to live anymore. That's where Jesus comes into the picture. One night I sat crying on my bedroom floor contemplating what I could do to no longer live this life, and a voice came into my head and said, "I'm not ready for you yet, and I love you, and you're worth it." Now, I know that suicide is one of the most selfish things to do to your friends and family. I have SO many people who love me, but depression is a sickness, and when you're in that black hole, it seems nothing will ever be OK again.

Now I'm 20. And if you've read my blog over the last year you know I've struggled. I became an RA, and suddenly I had to worry about 30 young women. I made it my job to make sure they were OK, pray for them, be there for them. Then, I realized I lived in a fish bowl and I decided I would make it look easy and be perfect. In actuality, I was struggling more than I ever had in my life. My anxiety hit a new high. I constantly felt rejected, incompetent, and not good enough. I felt like I was never doing enough and no one was ever happy with me. I hated that people called me a "bitch" and said things behind my back. So once again I whipped out the fake smile. This time though, I didn't tell anyone that I was slowly spiraling back into the black hole, and it sucked me in so fast that I didn't know what was happening. Then I got a broken heart (again, I'm not going into details about that out of respect). It broke the camel's (or my) back. I feel like everyone has baggage, but I have an entire luggage set. If I'm going to be honest, I hit that same dark spot I did when I was 16. I felt like the world would be better off without me. I felt like I was a burden to those who loved me. And the comforting words people told me were, "Victoria, you've gotten through this before. You're the strongest person I know, and you'll come out of this anxiety depression thing." Guess what? I felt weaker than before. I let everyone down; I showed my weakness. Once again though, Jesus has saved me. I've turned to my faith (ironic since it's my middle name, huh?). I'm doing a bible study about living a surrendered life, and one of the devotionals was about broken people. It said that there are two types of people in this world, broken and unbroken, and that the broken people realized they weren't perfect, they admitted their mistakes, took responsibility, asked for forgiveness, and attempted to better their lives. The scripture was 2 Corinthians 7:5, "Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death." So, in case you didn't notice, I'm broken, but right now, I think that's ok.

This time, I told people I was unhappy. I went to see that counselor again, but she really upset me. She told me I put too much into every relationship I have. And if you're in my life, you know I love, and I love deeply. If we were good friends once, I can guarantee I still think about you and pray for you. I love for a lifetime, I don't stop. Once you're in my life, you're in. I give my whole heart to those I love, I care about you, I will listen, and I pray for you unceasingly. I'm much better at forgiving others than myself, so if you think you've hurt me, I've forgiven you. If I loved you once, I still do. So my psychologist telling me I had to change myself killed me, and this is one piece of advice I will not take. I'm supposed to live my life as Christ lived His. He gives me EVERYTHING EVERY DAY. I do not give him enough. I doubt his love, I doubt his kindness. Yet He still loves me. So why would I stop being that way? Yes, this leads me to heartbreak. I've lost friends throughout my life that hurt me and that's why our friendship ended, but I've forgiven you, and I still love you, I promise. It's cliche, but my strength comes from the Lord.

I am weak. I am broken, and I am admitting it for the world to see. I've realized through this recent bout of unhappiness, that if I had just opened my eyes and my heart a little more, I would see that others are in dark places too. I'm truly listening to God now, and I'm doing what the Holy Spirit compels me to do. If you get help from reading about my 20 year journey, or at least some reassurance, then I've succeeded. If anyone who reads this (and that's probably about 10 people) needs help, reach out to me. I would love to pray for you, or meet with you, or talk to you. I've found true joy in praying for others. Maybe I can't be perfect in life, but I can be perfect in prayer, because no prayer is unheard or unanswered. I'm not a "bible pusher" or a member of what some call the "God squad," but I would love to share my faith with anyone who wants to hear. I am not strong, but God fulfills my heart. We are so obsessed with the outcome, that we forget the importance of the journey. I'm much better than when I was 2 weeks ago, and I'm no longer lost, and praise to God for that, but I'm still struggling. Every day is rough. I'm anxious, I am fearful, and I allow the devil to take over my heart and mind sometimes. But I'm working on taking control of my thoughts, and turning every thought into a prayer, because we are commanded to pray unceasingly. Please, if you want to reach out to me, do.

Love forever and ever,

A broken soul.

And smile, God loves you. (more than you'll ever know)

Father's Day

I am not the kind of person to take many dates to heart. On Father's Day I take the time to celebrate the man who is in my life, my Grandpa, and take time to remember the amazing Daddy that was in my life for 6 years. If many of you are reading this, you've probably already seen my status on Facebook about my Dad. I go through phases with my grief, as anyone who has experienced any level of death will do throughout their life. As I am going through this difficult time in my life in terms of heart break from a relationship (which this is all I am going to say about that out of respect to those involved), I feel lonely as many of my friends are spending their summers in Athens, and I really miss my dad. One thing, though, that I have enjoyed so much is getting to spend a lot of time with my grandpa, or "G" as many of you know him by.

Talk about an amazing man! I pray I make it to 90 and look as great as he does. In his 90 years he has fought in a war, owned his own restaurant, lost a child, had two beautiful daughters, lost his parents and sister, and most importantly, he has lost the love of his life and wife of 59 years. A few months ago, he broke his tail bone and has been in a lot of pain and is trying to rebuild his strength as an injury like that can only heal itself. However, I love getting to watch his eyes twinkle when someone tells a good joke. I don't think I've ever taken the time to truly think about all of the wisdom he has. I have so enjoyed getting to eat breakfast with him every morning (as we both don't make it to the breakfast table until 11am!) Although Grandpa has experienced a lot of heart ache, he still has his sense of humor. Just a few days ago I realized how much I am like G Money. I get my Irish "hot-headedness" from him, my stubborn mentality, opinionated personality, corny sense of humor, and dashing good looks (just kidding, but hey, he IS darn handsome : ]). Recently he has shared a lot of his wisdom with me about money, relationships, education, and children. He enjoys making fun of my TV show selections, and always feels free to add his input, especially about how stupid girls are to spend $10,000 on a wedding dress on Say Yes to the Dress, but hey, he's practical. When my grandparents moved in to help my mom when I was 8, I had no idea I would have such a wonderful relationship with Grandpa. He has been such an amazing male role model. There are so many statistics about what a girl who grows up without a dad will be like, and I am proud that I am none of those things. I got to experience an amazing father for my first 6 years, and for the last 12 years I've had an amazing grandpa serve as a surrogate father. Perhaps what I appreciate the most is that he never tried to be my dad. He kept his role as a grandpa by spoiling me rotten, offering advice when I didn't want it, correcting my tantrums, and loving me unconditionally. Without him I would not be who I am today. He brings so much joy to my life, and I am so grateful for him.

I am also grateful for my incredible Heavenly Father on this Father's Day. He has never led me astray, left me, disappointed me, forgotten me, forsaken me; rather He has loved me like no other, shown me His way, taught me about forgiveness, and has given me righteousness.

Why does God do what He does?

I feel like I say this every time, but it's been a while since I've posted.

My main question tonight is why does God do what He does? Tonight I have a heavy heart. My grandpa really is not doing well and it really hurts me to see him in so much pain. I know my mom gets frustrated since she is the only one with him all of the time. It kills me to be away from home; I just want to be there to help. I often think about transferring to KSU to live at home. I feel like if I could be home I could help with things around the house with my mom, grandpa wouldn't be home all the time, I could spend more time with Caroline and Drew and help Jackie and Andrew, etc. etc. It's something I'm really struggling with right now. But I know I wouldn't be happy at home, and I know God wants me at UGA. I'll be home for the summer soon (thank God) and hopefully I will feel more peace about all of this.

I also found out a while ago that my former ballet teacher has Aplastic Anemia, which is a really dangerous disease. My mom, who is a nurse, explained to me that Ms. Natalie, the ballet teacher, would be in a lot of pain and that it was a difficult disease. It's been a few years since I've seen Ms. Natalie, but we still email every now and then. I've always looked up to her for the great dancer she is and the wonderful woman of Christ that she is. She has been updating her blog with news about her being in the hospital, and tonight I read her caring bridge site. Hearing about her time in ICU and all of the scary things that are going on really got to me. I really am having a hard time understanding why God allows us to go through so much pain. I know that as humans we are sinful and that God gives us situations that will make us stronger, but it still hurts. It hurts me to know how much pain she is in, and how angry she is. What gets me the most is when she mentioned about her two young children not having a mother. I wasn't much older than Ruth, her 4 year old, when my dad died. I just remember how confusing it all was, and the day he died still haunts my memories sometimes. Thinking about her kids really really gets me. After 13 years I've come to peace with the fact that my dad died. My life would be completely different if he were here and I would not be who I am. But I think of her sweet little children and the pain that will come with knowing their mommy is sick. I know why God took my daddy away, but I can't wrap my head around why he takes parents away from the other innocent little kids.

I just don't understand...

Sticks and Stones

I don't know why TV shows always seem to elicit big thoughts...but I guess that just shows what a TV junkie I am. So, watching One Tree Hill on Netflix, I watched the episode where a student brings a gun into a school. He wounded one, and shot himself. When we were little, we were all taught the expression, "stick and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." But oh how false this expression is. Words do hurt, and any human being can tell you they do. Now, throughout my years of schooling I faced the "mean girl," the "bully," or the rumors, but what about when I was the mean girl? When I was a bully? What about when I gave into the rumors, and even spread them? I am guilty of, at times, using my words to hurt others. Now, I regret my words and actions, and I've asked for forgiveness from God, and I can only pray that those people I've hurt have forgiven me, as I've forgiven those that hurt me.

So, in this episode, the kid brings a gun to school mostly because no one ever talked to him. He eventually grew apart from his friends, and felt all alone in the world: a different kind of heart break. Even though I faced mean people, I was, and still am, fortunate to have a family that I can be honest with. Now, in this TV show, this student lied to his mom and told her it was OK. I'm not a parent, so I cannot speak for this woman, but I pray, I pray that my niece and nephews, and eventually my children, will never have to pretend like everything is OK. I pray that as an aunt, and as a parent, that I can know these children well enough to know when they're happy. The student in the TV show also said that no one, not even a teacher, would utter a word to him at school for weeks at a time. So, of course this got me thinking about being an educator...

I have now set a new goal for myself: to say hello, or even smile, at each and every student I can. I had a teacher in high school named Coach Bettis, he taught AP US History, and every Friday was "handshake Friday", and as we left the room, we were to shake his hand and he told us to have a good weekend. Looking at this from the perspective of a future teacher, I think this was awesome. Each student in his class got to know that they were worthy of a handshake. And I think that for someone who felt left out, knowing that a teacher spoke to you and thought you were important, even just for a moment, is a good thing. As a future educator, I hope that my students never feel like I don't care, because I will. I hope to have my own "handshake Friday," or something of the sort. I still believe that although it may not seem like one person can change the world, they can change someone's world, and as a teacher, I hope to be an influence in someone's world. I hope to let them know that they are not alone, even though it seems like the world is against them. I pray I can accomplish these goals, to help those hurtful words come with a little less pain.