These past week was Spring Break, and while many of my peers spent their weeks on the beach drinking, partying, relaxing, and soaking up some sun, I spent mine in Chattanooga with two (now three) of my favorite little chickadees. The first few days I got to shopping with Mom, church with her and Grandpa, and relax at home. But on Tuesday I headed up to Chattanooga to spend some time with Jackie, Andrew, Caroline, and Drew, and anxiously await the arrival of baby Workmon #3.
On Tuesday Jackie, Andrew, and I spent some time watching 19 Kids and Counting before we all went to bed. I'm a firm believer in God's plan for our lives, but I'm not so sure 19 kids are in the cards for me in my future. However, I do think the world can learn a lot about how to value a marriage, your spouse, and raise children in a Christian household. One thing I noticed throughout watching the TV show is how positive the family is. At one point 5 of the younger Dugger children got sick with a stomach bug. While one parent was cleaning up vomit, the other was watching a runny nose, and both were trying to catch the vomit of another child, etc. Now, I've been thrown up on, wiped snotty noses, and held a sick, fussy, and miserable child. I'm just an aunt so I can always give that child back to his/her parents. And I know that it's frustrating, aggravating, tiring, and pretty miserable. But what did Michelle Duggar do? Said what a blessing it was that she was able to have snuggle time with her little ones. A blessing to have 5 children under the age of 7 sick. Really?
The next episode featured the family traveling to Japan. That's a looooong flight. And Anna, the oldest son's wife, who has two little ones, said it was "difficult" at times to keep little ones occupied on such a long flight, but it was a fun experience. I don't call that fun, I'd call that miserable. I said out loud just how positive they were, and Jackie said she's tried to use a lot of the tactics that Michelle Duggar uses when disciplining Caroline and Drew. She said she learns to stay calm even when she wants to scream. I suddenly felt incredibly convicted...how often am I positive in the challenges of every day life?
If you know me, you know I tend to be pretty dramatic and irrational. I've worked a lot in the 6 months about not reacting to situations in irrational ways. I work hard to accept my feelings, rather than challenge them and I often find myself saying, "Victoria. You're angry right now, you're angry about _____. Take a deep breath, think for a minute, then act," and it's helped a lot. Not to say I don't slip up and act in irrational ways, but I think we're all works in progress. God did not create me to be an irrational being. He created darkness so I could see the light, His light. Even in just the little challenges of every day life it's easy to feel alone. Sometimes I do get lonely. I stay so busy at school but in a calm moment I take a minute to relax and then I'm like "ok now what?" I also tend to get anxious at home. I LOVE spending time with my mom and grandpa, but when Mom is at work and then Grandpa goes about his routine, it can get a little lonely and a little boring. And with everything I went through this summer, sometimes I'll look at something and get reminded of how depressed I was. It's nice to look at how far I've come, but if you've ever suffered from depression, you know how easy it is to slip back into that misery.
Before I left for Chattanooga, I was reading for my quiet time and came across this verse
"I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you." -John 14:18
And I thought, dang. And I reread it, and reread it, and reread it. Jesus will not leave me. I have no reason to be lonely, because Jesus is always with me. That, in and of itself, is something to be positive about! So that first night in TN Caroline asked to sleep in the guest bedroom with me, or "Toria's bed please" as she says. I, being the pushover aunt that I am, said yes, knowing I wouldn't get much sleep. And as I was awakened about 40 minutes after I fell asleep because I was smacked in the face, I started to get annoyed. Not angry by any means but just thinking that it would be a long night. Then I looked over at that sweet little girl with her blanket and princess pajamas and thought "how lucky am I?" In a few more years Caroline won't want to sleep in the same bed and snuggle with her aunt. Someday I will stop being the "cool" aunt (but let's be real, I probably won't ever stop being the cool aunt because I'm so much younger than my sisters and they're just old, hehe). The second night Jackie and Andrew stayed in the hospital (or hopspital or Caroline calls in) Drew woke up screaming. I went in and picked him up and rocked him. I was tired and he would just not fall asleep, but I still got to snuggle with him and rock him which I haven't done since he was 6 months old. If you know sweet Drewbie Drew, then you know that boy is always on the move. Poor Jackie can't turn around for a second without Drew getting into something. So I stayed positive just getting to hold him and snuggle him. Of course I rocked him for half an hour and he never fell asleep, but Nana held him for 5 minutes and he was out, but I guess Nana's just have that special touch.
As I drove from Chattanooga to Marietta and then Marietta to Athens, I felt so convicted about how I haven't been very positive lately, and I had to sit there and ask myself if I was really living my life as a Christian should. Is my gaze fixed on Him? Do I turn to Him in the good times just as much as I do in the bad? Do I praise Him for the bad things and for the challenges and interruptions in my day? Do my decisions and actions occasionally cause others to fall, or do they build them up? Do I season my conversations with salt so that I know how to respond to people with grace and patience? Honestly, about 75% of the time, the answer to the above questions is no. But through His grace I know that's OK. My sins are covered by Jesus' blood, and whatever mistakes I make will be forgiven, and always will be. I am never alone because Jesus constantly intercedes on my behalf, and praise the Lord for that because I am incredibly unworthy. I ask those of you reading this to help keep me accountable to living this Christian life. I so badly want to be a light in this forever darkened world. I want God to use my testimony to do great things. I want to let my actions proudly point to Him. I want to show people the glory that comes with being a child of the one and only King.
Because He is King: the one who was, and is, and is to come.
Smile, God loves you!
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Sunday, March 3, 2013
It's not easy being a girl.
My SAO sisters and I went on our annual sisterhood retreat this weekend, and as I looked out on the sea of beautiful young women of Christ, I was filled with love for them. As we broke into small groups and talked about our struggles, I realized how much we tend to doubt God and the beautiful beings He's created us to be. It's hard to be a girl in this world. Women are often devalued and held to high expectations. Society teaches us and constantly tells us we are unworthy of what we're given. The enemy takes these ideas and runs with them. He tells us we are unworthy of a man of God; unworthy of a beautiful life; unworthy of our jobs; and so much more. We had a wonderful guest speaker at the retreat this weekend, and she said one thing that really hit me. She said that being a woman of God means allowing His beauty to shine from the inside out. She said that there is nothing more beautiful than seeing a young woman walk around campus and knowing that she isn't comparing herself to the girls she passes on her walk. Then I thought, "when is the last time I didn't compare myself to another girl?" And honestly, I couldn't give you an answer about that.
Walking to my classes, my thoughts often go a little like this: "Ugh, I wish my legs were as skinny as her's. I wish my hair could look that way. How does she look so nice this early in the morning? She looks happy; I wonder if I could be that happy. Her bags are so cute; there's no way I could afford them," and the list goes on and on. Girls reading this, don't deny that you often think these same thoughts or some very similar.
What's keeping us from walking around knowing that we are beautiful daughters of the King? That we're loved, cherished, pure, worthy? Satan, that's what. And I loathe him. Every doubt he places in our minds and hearts is a lie. We know this, yet we continue to believe him anyway. Why? Because it's often easier to believe the lies of the enemy than believe the truths that our God loves us. And it's because this dark world we live in tells us that what the enemy says is true. Society tells us that that the "bad boy" can be changed, and you can change him, that it's ok to go out and get drunk and sleep with random men, that having sex with that guy will make him stick around, that men of Christ don't exist so it's better to settle for what you have, that only being youthful is beautiful, that you have to look a certain way and dress a certain way to be loved, and this list continues.
When these thoughts occur in my head I often have to tell myself that it's a lie. I tell myself that Satan is a liar and all he has to say is a lie. But then I find myself focusing on the lies, and God isn't glorified in that, Satan is. So I have to switch and tell myself the truths, but satan then tells me that those truths are lies. That's some serious social warfare there people. It's annoying, honestly. I figure the majority of people who read this are young women around my age, so I ask you to join me in rebuking the enemy's lies. I ask you to start a journey with me of believing that we are daughters of the King. I ask you to join me in repeatedly telling ourselves the truths: that we are wanted, chosen, beautiful, pure, worthy, wanted, cherished, desired, and loved by the Creator of the universe. If He took the time out of His busy schedule to form us in our mother's womb and know the number of hairs on our head, then He must love us a whole lot. So join me on this journey.
On this weekend with my sisters I realized how many people read this silly blog. I think sometimes it's easier for me to hide behind this computer screen because I don't have to watch the reactions of others as they "hear" what I have to say because quite honestly, I'm terrified of what they're reactions may be. Yet another lie, because I get some really positive feedback about how God is using me with this blog.
Which leads me to another thing. We all know I want to be a teacher, and that desire still burns bright within me, but through writing this blog and my leadership position in SAO, a new desire has been born. I've been thinking about it for quite some time now, but again that little voice in my head has told me that it will never happen and that I'm not worthy of it, but a desire has arisen in my heart to minister to young women. I sometimes dream of one day being able to write a book about being a young woman of Christ and of being able to go across the country speaking and joining in fellowship of young women. I'd like to open a young women's ministry. Maybe this is something silly, but a seed has been planted and I really want to see what God does with it.
But really, as young women, let's remember the truths that our Father tells us, and rebuke the lies the enemy puts in our heads. He is bigger. He is greater. He is truth.
Smile, God loves you!
Walking to my classes, my thoughts often go a little like this: "Ugh, I wish my legs were as skinny as her's. I wish my hair could look that way. How does she look so nice this early in the morning? She looks happy; I wonder if I could be that happy. Her bags are so cute; there's no way I could afford them," and the list goes on and on. Girls reading this, don't deny that you often think these same thoughts or some very similar.
What's keeping us from walking around knowing that we are beautiful daughters of the King? That we're loved, cherished, pure, worthy? Satan, that's what. And I loathe him. Every doubt he places in our minds and hearts is a lie. We know this, yet we continue to believe him anyway. Why? Because it's often easier to believe the lies of the enemy than believe the truths that our God loves us. And it's because this dark world we live in tells us that what the enemy says is true. Society tells us that that the "bad boy" can be changed, and you can change him, that it's ok to go out and get drunk and sleep with random men, that having sex with that guy will make him stick around, that men of Christ don't exist so it's better to settle for what you have, that only being youthful is beautiful, that you have to look a certain way and dress a certain way to be loved, and this list continues.
When these thoughts occur in my head I often have to tell myself that it's a lie. I tell myself that Satan is a liar and all he has to say is a lie. But then I find myself focusing on the lies, and God isn't glorified in that, Satan is. So I have to switch and tell myself the truths, but satan then tells me that those truths are lies. That's some serious social warfare there people. It's annoying, honestly. I figure the majority of people who read this are young women around my age, so I ask you to join me in rebuking the enemy's lies. I ask you to start a journey with me of believing that we are daughters of the King. I ask you to join me in repeatedly telling ourselves the truths: that we are wanted, chosen, beautiful, pure, worthy, wanted, cherished, desired, and loved by the Creator of the universe. If He took the time out of His busy schedule to form us in our mother's womb and know the number of hairs on our head, then He must love us a whole lot. So join me on this journey.
On this weekend with my sisters I realized how many people read this silly blog. I think sometimes it's easier for me to hide behind this computer screen because I don't have to watch the reactions of others as they "hear" what I have to say because quite honestly, I'm terrified of what they're reactions may be. Yet another lie, because I get some really positive feedback about how God is using me with this blog.
Which leads me to another thing. We all know I want to be a teacher, and that desire still burns bright within me, but through writing this blog and my leadership position in SAO, a new desire has been born. I've been thinking about it for quite some time now, but again that little voice in my head has told me that it will never happen and that I'm not worthy of it, but a desire has arisen in my heart to minister to young women. I sometimes dream of one day being able to write a book about being a young woman of Christ and of being able to go across the country speaking and joining in fellowship of young women. I'd like to open a young women's ministry. Maybe this is something silly, but a seed has been planted and I really want to see what God does with it.
But really, as young women, let's remember the truths that our Father tells us, and rebuke the lies the enemy puts in our heads. He is bigger. He is greater. He is truth.
Smile, God loves you!
Thursday, February 28, 2013
The RA Diaries
Yesterday was the day that about 250 young applicants found out whether or not they were accepted as a Resident Assistant for the 2013-2014 school year, and it took me back to that day 2 years ago when I found out I'd be working in Brumby.
For those of you not familiar with UGA Residence Halls, Brumby has been an all-female residence hall since it opened in 1966. It has a reputation for being the "strictest" residence hall. When young women find out that they will spend their freshman year in Brumby, they usually roll their eyes and try to live in another hall. Although the visitation rules are the same in the majority of the residence halls, staff in Brumby can usually tell if someone is here after hours pretty readily. I'll give you a clue: he's a guy. If we see a guy between the hours of 2-10am Monday-Thursday, he's not supposed to be here. We can also spot pretty readily if a boy is un-escorted (aka wandering the halls alone) because, again, he's a boy and most definitely doesn't live here. I had to document an escort violation last year with some slightly intoxicated boys and one of them told me he lived here and when I said I knew for a fact that he didn't, he challenged me and said I "didn't know his life." I said that was very well but he couldn't live here because it was an all-female building. Needless to say that shut him up and also embarrassed him to no end. Anyway, next year Brumby will be co-ed, and I have to say that that scares me. I LOVE Brumby. I'm weird, I know, but there is just something so nice about working on an all-female staff. There's a camaraderie among female staff- we compete to see who has the cutest bulletin boards every month, but in a healthy way, but we compliment each other's work ethics and programs and bulletin boards. Yes, this can happen with males on our staff, but it's so nice that in a world where women typically bring each other down, that I can work on a staff where my co-workers constantly build me up. Being a Christian, obviously I believe God wants me to work in a co-ed building next year, and in this instance, change is a good thing. After 40+ years Brumby is evolving, and I'm so fortunate to get to witness that change.
Now, back to getting my acceptance letter 2 years ago...man oh man I had zero idea what I was in for. I've decided to compile a little piece of what I'd like to call "The RA Diaries" including many things I've learned and some tips and tricks...
-You will learn an insane amount of acronyms when starting this job. I bet you all don't know that in addition to being an RA, I work with CAs, DAs, OAs, GRs, an RHD, an AC, and BSWs. I also use programs called CRIS and JA and fill out a piece of paperwork called an RFP. I get my bulletin board supplies from an RPS office. This is no where near and exhaustive list.
-Get used to being called a "bitch." It happens, but at the end of the day you're doing you're job and can remain confident in that.
-No, there is no initiation to be an RA, but there is a secret club that we don't talk about. Once you clean up vomit or some other bodily "fluid," you're part of that "club."
-Speaking of vomit, expect to clean it up several times, including the middle of the night.
-Always have tissues in your room. Sometimes people just need someone to listen while they cry.
-Food is your greatest weapon, especially Chick Fil A. People will come to your program when there is food.
-Listen to what your residents do in their spare time and what they like. If you can plan a program around it, you'll have more people show up and more meaningful experiences.
-The worst sound in the world is the shrill ringing of the duty phone at 3 am. Your first thought, "someone better be dying." But of course you would NEVER want that, but hey, it's what happens when you're woken up mid- REM cycle.
-People will not take you seriously when you're trying to confront an incident in Spider Man boxers. You may be wearing your Housing Polo and ID badge, but they're just staring at your boxers.
-The Housing Polo is the sexiest piece of clothing you'll ever have. Said no one ever. You'll get paranoid when you're on duty and sleep in it on nights that you know are going to be bad.
-Your staff will become a second family. You will bond over using the Vendor Card at Piggly Wiggly, exchange funny stories, and they'll be your support system when you feel like everything is falling apart.
-Confrontation is not a bad thing. It's healthy. If you stay calm, that drunk person you're confronting will too. Never yell. Don't even raise your voice.
-People instantly sober up when you say the police can get involved.
-Fraternity formal time=cooler time. By the end of that season, you will never want to see another cooler again.
-Your dinner break while on duty is sacred. It's your 45 minutes to get out of the building, use it.
-It's much easier to go in strict and be slightly intimidating and then loosen the reigns than try to tighten them as the year goes on.
-Most importantly, your residents will surprise you. They'll leave you sweet notes, you'll hear them pass by your room and say they like you. You'll adopt residents on your hall to the point that you forget that certain people aren't actually your residents.
-Working with freshmen is both rewarding and frustrating. They will experiment with their freedom, but you'll also get to witness them grow and learn and make some pretty awesome decisions.
-Welcome interruptions. They'll happen, especially the night before classes start. Don't expect to have more than 10 minute intervals to yourself. An open door means anyone is welcome. A closed door means you're available as needed. Lock your door when you're changing or just get out of the shower. Some residents like to barge in.
-Take time to enjoy the experience. Take a night away from your friends and invite your residents to come watch a movie in your room. You'll never regret the bonding that happens.
-Never give up on yourself, and NEVER give up on your residents. You'll never find another job like this. You won't ever learn this quickly or "as you go" like you do on this job.
I'm sure my fellow Housing buddies will enjoy this. I do love my job.
Smile, God loves you!
For those of you not familiar with UGA Residence Halls, Brumby has been an all-female residence hall since it opened in 1966. It has a reputation for being the "strictest" residence hall. When young women find out that they will spend their freshman year in Brumby, they usually roll their eyes and try to live in another hall. Although the visitation rules are the same in the majority of the residence halls, staff in Brumby can usually tell if someone is here after hours pretty readily. I'll give you a clue: he's a guy. If we see a guy between the hours of 2-10am Monday-Thursday, he's not supposed to be here. We can also spot pretty readily if a boy is un-escorted (aka wandering the halls alone) because, again, he's a boy and most definitely doesn't live here. I had to document an escort violation last year with some slightly intoxicated boys and one of them told me he lived here and when I said I knew for a fact that he didn't, he challenged me and said I "didn't know his life." I said that was very well but he couldn't live here because it was an all-female building. Needless to say that shut him up and also embarrassed him to no end. Anyway, next year Brumby will be co-ed, and I have to say that that scares me. I LOVE Brumby. I'm weird, I know, but there is just something so nice about working on an all-female staff. There's a camaraderie among female staff- we compete to see who has the cutest bulletin boards every month, but in a healthy way, but we compliment each other's work ethics and programs and bulletin boards. Yes, this can happen with males on our staff, but it's so nice that in a world where women typically bring each other down, that I can work on a staff where my co-workers constantly build me up. Being a Christian, obviously I believe God wants me to work in a co-ed building next year, and in this instance, change is a good thing. After 40+ years Brumby is evolving, and I'm so fortunate to get to witness that change.
Now, back to getting my acceptance letter 2 years ago...man oh man I had zero idea what I was in for. I've decided to compile a little piece of what I'd like to call "The RA Diaries" including many things I've learned and some tips and tricks...
-You will learn an insane amount of acronyms when starting this job. I bet you all don't know that in addition to being an RA, I work with CAs, DAs, OAs, GRs, an RHD, an AC, and BSWs. I also use programs called CRIS and JA and fill out a piece of paperwork called an RFP. I get my bulletin board supplies from an RPS office. This is no where near and exhaustive list.
-Get used to being called a "bitch." It happens, but at the end of the day you're doing you're job and can remain confident in that.
-No, there is no initiation to be an RA, but there is a secret club that we don't talk about. Once you clean up vomit or some other bodily "fluid," you're part of that "club."
-Speaking of vomit, expect to clean it up several times, including the middle of the night.
-Always have tissues in your room. Sometimes people just need someone to listen while they cry.
-Food is your greatest weapon, especially Chick Fil A. People will come to your program when there is food.
-Listen to what your residents do in their spare time and what they like. If you can plan a program around it, you'll have more people show up and more meaningful experiences.
-The worst sound in the world is the shrill ringing of the duty phone at 3 am. Your first thought, "someone better be dying." But of course you would NEVER want that, but hey, it's what happens when you're woken up mid- REM cycle.
-People will not take you seriously when you're trying to confront an incident in Spider Man boxers. You may be wearing your Housing Polo and ID badge, but they're just staring at your boxers.
-The Housing Polo is the sexiest piece of clothing you'll ever have. Said no one ever. You'll get paranoid when you're on duty and sleep in it on nights that you know are going to be bad.
-Your staff will become a second family. You will bond over using the Vendor Card at Piggly Wiggly, exchange funny stories, and they'll be your support system when you feel like everything is falling apart.
-Confrontation is not a bad thing. It's healthy. If you stay calm, that drunk person you're confronting will too. Never yell. Don't even raise your voice.
-People instantly sober up when you say the police can get involved.
-Fraternity formal time=cooler time. By the end of that season, you will never want to see another cooler again.
-Your dinner break while on duty is sacred. It's your 45 minutes to get out of the building, use it.
-It's much easier to go in strict and be slightly intimidating and then loosen the reigns than try to tighten them as the year goes on.
-Most importantly, your residents will surprise you. They'll leave you sweet notes, you'll hear them pass by your room and say they like you. You'll adopt residents on your hall to the point that you forget that certain people aren't actually your residents.
-Working with freshmen is both rewarding and frustrating. They will experiment with their freedom, but you'll also get to witness them grow and learn and make some pretty awesome decisions.
-Welcome interruptions. They'll happen, especially the night before classes start. Don't expect to have more than 10 minute intervals to yourself. An open door means anyone is welcome. A closed door means you're available as needed. Lock your door when you're changing or just get out of the shower. Some residents like to barge in.
-Take time to enjoy the experience. Take a night away from your friends and invite your residents to come watch a movie in your room. You'll never regret the bonding that happens.
-Never give up on yourself, and NEVER give up on your residents. You'll never find another job like this. You won't ever learn this quickly or "as you go" like you do on this job.
I'm sure my fellow Housing buddies will enjoy this. I do love my job.
Smile, God loves you!
Thursday, February 21, 2013
I Want to be a Teacher.
I want to be a teacher. Every time I tell someone I'm an English Education major they ask me, "Oh, are you sure you want to teach?" with this look of doubt, and they almost look at me with pity. I know that I have zero idea what I'm getting into, but unless you're a former/current teacher, your opinion does not really hold validity for me. How could you possibly know what's it's like in a classroom unless you've been there? So please, save your advice. I'm not saying this to anyone in particular, just the general population. Also, it makes me feel like you doubt my capabilities, and I'm not trying to brag on myself, but one of my values I like most in myself is my hard work. Every person in my family is a hard worker, and that's a value my parents instilled in my sisters and me, and if you've met my mother, you know she's quite possibly one of the hardest workers out there. And you saying those works to me with doubt in your voice just makes me want to work harder.
I want to be a teacher.
I know the public school system is messed up. I know it needs reform. I know the government puts way too much emphasis on school funding and meeting AYP and not enough on a student's individual growth. These assessments make it difficult for teachers to not "teach to a test," but it can be done. Reform starts in the individual classroom.
I want to be a teacher.
I want to touch lives. I want students to know that I am there for them and will do whatever I can to help them with their school problems or with anything else they may need help with. I want them to know that in this world where it too often seems like no one cares, I care. I want them to know that they matter, not as a statistic, but as a human being.
I want to be a teacher.
I want to show students the beauty of Literature, and how books, poems, and short stories offer an escape, if even just for a little while. I want to join them on their adventures of floating down a river with Huck Finn, fighting Voldemort with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, get annoyed with them at Heathcliff and Cathy, figure out who the real Boo Radley is in To Kill a Mockingbird, and so much more. I want my passion for books, English, and Literature to excite my students.
Not only to I want to be a teacher, I am called to be a teacher. Do you think standing in a room full of teenagers doesn't scare the heck out of me? Because it does. Do you think I'm not afraid to meet AYP and all of the other standards once I become a teacher? Because I am. But this isn't a choice for me to make. It's a choice that He made for me. I started college as a Psychology major, despite my love of books and papers, but halfway through my freshman year I could feel that it wasn't right. I didn't like my classes and I just had no interest in them. I spent a lot of time in prayer and it was as if God said, "Why are you denying me so? You know what you're supposed to do." And I knew, I'd known all along. And the second I turned in the forms to change my major I felt relieved, and I was excited. In my excitement I told my family and friends about my change in major and no one was surprised. If you haven't noticed, I'm pretty stubborn, and I tend to have to learn things the hard way or in roundabout ways before I fully understand what God is trying to tell me. I love my English classes (in the way a college kid loves classes), and I've enjoyed my education classes. And when I think it's going to be too hard or I don't want to, I hear God telling me that I don't have much of a choice, because this is what He wants me to do. Every time something gets in my way, He moves it, and I get closer to teaching one day.
When people talk about politics I tend to keep my mouth shut because I'm not well enough informed, but when it comes to public education, I can speak what I feel, because that's one topic I'm passionate about and do my best to keep up with.
I want to be a teacher.
Too often this world teaches teenagers that they can't. I want to tell them they can. I want my classroom to be a safe place where students can bring their ideas and express their opinions. I want to be the hard teacher. In a way I don't want my students to like me in the beginning, I want them to think I'm hard on them. But as their hard work pays off I want them to grow to love me because I challenge and push them. Those are the teachers that make the biggest influence in my life. The ones that pushed me and challenged me are the ones I think about when I do well on a paper or an assignment, and I want to be that teacher for them. I want to make a difference. No, I don't want to, I'm going to.
I want to be a teacher.
Smile, God loves you.
I want to be a teacher.
I know the public school system is messed up. I know it needs reform. I know the government puts way too much emphasis on school funding and meeting AYP and not enough on a student's individual growth. These assessments make it difficult for teachers to not "teach to a test," but it can be done. Reform starts in the individual classroom.
I want to be a teacher.
I want to touch lives. I want students to know that I am there for them and will do whatever I can to help them with their school problems or with anything else they may need help with. I want them to know that in this world where it too often seems like no one cares, I care. I want them to know that they matter, not as a statistic, but as a human being.
I want to be a teacher.
I want to show students the beauty of Literature, and how books, poems, and short stories offer an escape, if even just for a little while. I want to join them on their adventures of floating down a river with Huck Finn, fighting Voldemort with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, get annoyed with them at Heathcliff and Cathy, figure out who the real Boo Radley is in To Kill a Mockingbird, and so much more. I want my passion for books, English, and Literature to excite my students.
Not only to I want to be a teacher, I am called to be a teacher. Do you think standing in a room full of teenagers doesn't scare the heck out of me? Because it does. Do you think I'm not afraid to meet AYP and all of the other standards once I become a teacher? Because I am. But this isn't a choice for me to make. It's a choice that He made for me. I started college as a Psychology major, despite my love of books and papers, but halfway through my freshman year I could feel that it wasn't right. I didn't like my classes and I just had no interest in them. I spent a lot of time in prayer and it was as if God said, "Why are you denying me so? You know what you're supposed to do." And I knew, I'd known all along. And the second I turned in the forms to change my major I felt relieved, and I was excited. In my excitement I told my family and friends about my change in major and no one was surprised. If you haven't noticed, I'm pretty stubborn, and I tend to have to learn things the hard way or in roundabout ways before I fully understand what God is trying to tell me. I love my English classes (in the way a college kid loves classes), and I've enjoyed my education classes. And when I think it's going to be too hard or I don't want to, I hear God telling me that I don't have much of a choice, because this is what He wants me to do. Every time something gets in my way, He moves it, and I get closer to teaching one day.
When people talk about politics I tend to keep my mouth shut because I'm not well enough informed, but when it comes to public education, I can speak what I feel, because that's one topic I'm passionate about and do my best to keep up with.
I want to be a teacher.
Too often this world teaches teenagers that they can't. I want to tell them they can. I want my classroom to be a safe place where students can bring their ideas and express their opinions. I want to be the hard teacher. In a way I don't want my students to like me in the beginning, I want them to think I'm hard on them. But as their hard work pays off I want them to grow to love me because I challenge and push them. Those are the teachers that make the biggest influence in my life. The ones that pushed me and challenged me are the ones I think about when I do well on a paper or an assignment, and I want to be that teacher for them. I want to make a difference. No, I don't want to, I'm going to.
I want to be a teacher.
Smile, God loves you.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Beauty
Lately the concept of beauty has really been on my heart. It's so hard for me to look at pictures of myself in high school and not think of how thin I was. I have to remind myself that my body has changed a lot since then, and I will not likely ever be that "tiny" again. Being an RA, I hear about the "freshman fifteen" almost daily. And it kills me because I think every single one of my residents is beautiful, but I do remember how hard it is when you start realizing that, as a woman, you get those wonderful "birthing hips" once you turn 18. Because I was a dancer from ages 3-18, I spent a lot of time looking at myself in the mirror...in a leotard. I don't know if you've ever worn a leotard and tights, but it shows everything: every pudge, every dimple, every flab, and it isn't exactly a confidence booster. I think about how often I let that get to me, how often I looked at my food and thought about how I shouldn't be eating it. But let's be real, I LOVE food. Now I look at body with a sense of hatred at times because it just doesn't look the way I want it to. The other day it hit me though...what does God say about beauty, and how does it compare to our worldly view of beauty.
What does the world say about beauty?
You must be thin to beautiful.
You must wear make up to be beautiful.
Glasses are not pretty.
Your hair must be done "just so" to be beautiful.
Celebrities are beautiful. (even though they have air brushing, personal trainers, personal nutritionists, and photoshop)
What you look like on the outside is most important.
Having the right clothes and accessories makes you beautiful.
If people don't like you, you're probably not very pretty.
If a boy, or girl, doesn't pay attention to you, it's because you're not pretty enough.
Now, I don't know about you, but I've met what I think are some insanely beautiful people throughout my life. However, the second they open their mouths and say something cruel or do something cruel, their beauty instantly goes away. On the other hand, I've met some relatively "pretty" people in my life, but through their conversation and actions they become incredibly beautiful because of their beautiful hearts. Every time I see somehow do a kind deed or say something nice, a transformation takes place and they become more and more beautiful. And here's what I've realized: God doesn't create ugly things. What He creates, He loves. He creates beauty, and pure beauty at that. He loves what He creates. God, the Creator of the universe, Creator of life, the heavens and the earth, the One who decides when the sun rises and sets, created YOU. You must be pretty special if such a busy guy was able to create you and know the amount of hairs on your head!
Now here's what the Bible says about beauty:
"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."
- Psalm 139: 14
"The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."
- 1 Samuel 16:7
"Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised."
- Proverbs 31:30
What does the world say about beauty?
You must be thin to beautiful.
You must wear make up to be beautiful.
Glasses are not pretty.
Your hair must be done "just so" to be beautiful.
Celebrities are beautiful. (even though they have air brushing, personal trainers, personal nutritionists, and photoshop)
What you look like on the outside is most important.
Having the right clothes and accessories makes you beautiful.
If people don't like you, you're probably not very pretty.
If a boy, or girl, doesn't pay attention to you, it's because you're not pretty enough.
Now, I don't know about you, but I've met what I think are some insanely beautiful people throughout my life. However, the second they open their mouths and say something cruel or do something cruel, their beauty instantly goes away. On the other hand, I've met some relatively "pretty" people in my life, but through their conversation and actions they become incredibly beautiful because of their beautiful hearts. Every time I see somehow do a kind deed or say something nice, a transformation takes place and they become more and more beautiful. And here's what I've realized: God doesn't create ugly things. What He creates, He loves. He creates beauty, and pure beauty at that. He loves what He creates. God, the Creator of the universe, Creator of life, the heavens and the earth, the One who decides when the sun rises and sets, created YOU. You must be pretty special if such a busy guy was able to create you and know the amount of hairs on your head!
Now here's what the Bible says about beauty:
"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well."
- Psalm 139: 14
"The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart."
- 1 Samuel 16:7
"Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord will be praised."
- Proverbs 31:30
"Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair and the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Instead, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight."
- 1 Peter 3:3-4
What's the emphasis in all of this?
A beautiful heart.
Now if that same Creator who made you values inward beauty over outward beauty, why do we not do the same? God cares about what's on your heart, and how those values influence your thoughts and actions. What will you do with that heart He's given you? What will you do with that body He's given you? Will you use it to His good purpose, or allow these worldly values to get to you? I'm not saying we should eat a bunch of junk food and never exercise, the Bible also says that our bodies are temples and are meant to be treated well, but we cannot put all of our focus there. God loves us just the way we are.
Smile, God loves you!
Thursday, February 7, 2013
"It's Not Fair."
"It's not fair." I can't tell you how many times in my life I've spoken those words. And in truth, life isn't fair; we don't know why God does what He does. As a lot of change comes up in my life with thinking about graduate school, preparing to start my student teaching next semester, and making plans for this summer, I'm forced to grieve the loss of my father yet again. It happens with every season of change, and the last few days I've missed my daddy more than anything.
Since my dad died 14 years ago, every time I see something about a father-daughter dance, father-daughter weekend for sororities, and fathers walking their daughters down the aisle, my heart hurts a little because I won't have that. And for years I never wanted to be the girl whose dad died, and I know my sisters have had similar experiences and we each deal with our grief in different ways.
My dad was taken from our lives when he was only 46. He never got to witness his daughters graduating from high school or college, never met their husbands, never got to walk them down the aisle, and never got to meet his amazing grandchildren. And...it breaks my heart. I look at this beautiful life I have and sometimes I just really wish my daddy were here. I wish he was here to give me advice about boys, to hold me when I cry, and help me make big life decisions. Granted, I know my life would be completely different if he were alive, and obviously it's a part of my life that I've accepted, but I'm allowed to miss him. And I think knowing I'm allowed to miss him and wish he were here took me a long time to know it was OK. I don't go around telling people the story about my dad's death, but if they ask, I'm open about talking about it. In some ways, I really have to detach myself from what I'm saying when I tell the story, simply because it's a wound that will never heal. I've accepted what's happened in my life, but I will always have a little hole in my heart because of his death, but it's OK, and I know that now.
Really what has brought all of this on is the fact that I had a dream a couple of nights ago about the night my dad died. Let's be real, it wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare, and a nightmare that I lived out almost 14 and a half years ago. Once again I was 6 years old sitting at the top of the steps listening to my dad take his last breaths. I think about this day from time-to-time, but usually I push those memories to the side and do my best to focus on the beauty in my life, but I can't deny my sub-conscience. I woke up crying and it took a lot of prayers and scripture reciting to calm me back down.
Please don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly grateful for my life, especially my family. I have the three most amazing sisters and the world's most incredible mom, along with a wonderful grandpa who lives with us. I'm showered with blessings, but I've learned along the way that I can't deny my emotions, and right now, I'm sad. Right now, I'm 6 years old wondering why my daddy won't walk through the door on a Sunday morning with a box full of donuts.
My dad's death gave me a very skewed understanding of God. We call God "the Father," and the way my dad's death was described to me was that he was in heaven now. In a 6 year old brain death alone is an incredible concept to grasp, so I kind of combined my dad with God, it seems weird, I know, but remember how you thought of things in elementary school. I also grew bitter towards God- why would He do this? Why would he take a father who loved his wife, worked hard, and adored his children off of this earth? Why would He deny the memories I mentioned above to 4 young girls? And I was angry, for many years. I was 16 when I finally let God take over some of that anger. It wasn't until I was 18 that I really let Him take that anger away. I distinctly remember I was with Jackie and Andrew driving in the car in the mountains on our way back from Andrew's brother's wedding (I went to help watch Workmon family kids). As we were driving I looked out the window and saw a cross completely illuminated and it took be aback so much I asked if it was real, and it was. It then started a conversation about Jesus and the cross and Andrew told me I needed to leave all of my hurt, resentment, and anger at the cross, and that really hit me. And that night and in the days to come I gave it to God. That was in November of my freshman year at UGA, and I look on my freshman year and remember how happy I was. I look at pictures and know my smile in them was genuine. That was really the first time I ever let God take the pain away. I did lose sight of all of that and I've had to let Him take away a lot of pain and hurt from a different kind of heartbreak in the last months, but He's done it. So now I just need to breathe deeply and know He has some greater purpose in having me live the majority of my life without my daddy. I trust Him, but man...it's so hard.
I love you, Daddy.
Smile, God loves you!
Since my dad died 14 years ago, every time I see something about a father-daughter dance, father-daughter weekend for sororities, and fathers walking their daughters down the aisle, my heart hurts a little because I won't have that. And for years I never wanted to be the girl whose dad died, and I know my sisters have had similar experiences and we each deal with our grief in different ways.
My dad was taken from our lives when he was only 46. He never got to witness his daughters graduating from high school or college, never met their husbands, never got to walk them down the aisle, and never got to meet his amazing grandchildren. And...it breaks my heart. I look at this beautiful life I have and sometimes I just really wish my daddy were here. I wish he was here to give me advice about boys, to hold me when I cry, and help me make big life decisions. Granted, I know my life would be completely different if he were alive, and obviously it's a part of my life that I've accepted, but I'm allowed to miss him. And I think knowing I'm allowed to miss him and wish he were here took me a long time to know it was OK. I don't go around telling people the story about my dad's death, but if they ask, I'm open about talking about it. In some ways, I really have to detach myself from what I'm saying when I tell the story, simply because it's a wound that will never heal. I've accepted what's happened in my life, but I will always have a little hole in my heart because of his death, but it's OK, and I know that now.
Really what has brought all of this on is the fact that I had a dream a couple of nights ago about the night my dad died. Let's be real, it wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare, and a nightmare that I lived out almost 14 and a half years ago. Once again I was 6 years old sitting at the top of the steps listening to my dad take his last breaths. I think about this day from time-to-time, but usually I push those memories to the side and do my best to focus on the beauty in my life, but I can't deny my sub-conscience. I woke up crying and it took a lot of prayers and scripture reciting to calm me back down.
Please don't get me wrong, I'm incredibly grateful for my life, especially my family. I have the three most amazing sisters and the world's most incredible mom, along with a wonderful grandpa who lives with us. I'm showered with blessings, but I've learned along the way that I can't deny my emotions, and right now, I'm sad. Right now, I'm 6 years old wondering why my daddy won't walk through the door on a Sunday morning with a box full of donuts.
My dad's death gave me a very skewed understanding of God. We call God "the Father," and the way my dad's death was described to me was that he was in heaven now. In a 6 year old brain death alone is an incredible concept to grasp, so I kind of combined my dad with God, it seems weird, I know, but remember how you thought of things in elementary school. I also grew bitter towards God- why would He do this? Why would he take a father who loved his wife, worked hard, and adored his children off of this earth? Why would He deny the memories I mentioned above to 4 young girls? And I was angry, for many years. I was 16 when I finally let God take over some of that anger. It wasn't until I was 18 that I really let Him take that anger away. I distinctly remember I was with Jackie and Andrew driving in the car in the mountains on our way back from Andrew's brother's wedding (I went to help watch Workmon family kids). As we were driving I looked out the window and saw a cross completely illuminated and it took be aback so much I asked if it was real, and it was. It then started a conversation about Jesus and the cross and Andrew told me I needed to leave all of my hurt, resentment, and anger at the cross, and that really hit me. And that night and in the days to come I gave it to God. That was in November of my freshman year at UGA, and I look on my freshman year and remember how happy I was. I look at pictures and know my smile in them was genuine. That was really the first time I ever let God take the pain away. I did lose sight of all of that and I've had to let Him take away a lot of pain and hurt from a different kind of heartbreak in the last months, but He's done it. So now I just need to breathe deeply and know He has some greater purpose in having me live the majority of my life without my daddy. I trust Him, but man...it's so hard.
I love you, Daddy.
Smile, God loves you!
Monday, February 4, 2013
Anxiety
I've been pretty up-front about my anxiety on here since I started this blog, but I also think anxiety is greatly misunderstood. I've had friends tell me they never thought anxiety really existed until they met me. Anxiety is debilitating, and mine is nothing compared to what some people suffer with. I can remember being anxious after my dad died, almost immediately. I was mostly anxious that I would lose my mom or sisters, which I think is pretty normal for anyone after they lose someone they love, but I was always anxious when my mom or sisters left. I can also remember calling my mom while she was at work several times a day. Thank goodness my mom worked with a wonderful group of nurses, now her best friends, who understood and were so kind to me. Not all coworkers would willingly talk to a six-year-old and tell them her mommy was with a patient but was OK.
I also had a terrible anxiety of breaking the rules. I was that kid, the tattletale. It wasn't that I thought the other kids were bad, it's that I never wanted anyone to get into trouble. This idea of following the rules has followed me my whole life, although I know things are much more grey than black and white.
The anxiety got bad when I was about 12. I went out to visit Courtney in California for Spring Break in 7th grade and I came back and I remember Grandma and Mom sitting me down and talking to me about how they think I needed to go talk to someone. I think at that point it was more depression rooted in my anxiety, but then a whole different can of worms was opened when my grandma died.
My junior and senior years of high school were when my anxiety really started affecting my every day life, and I stopped sleeping. For about two years I ran on about 4 hours of sleep a night. I know SO many people do this, but if you know me well, I am not a very nice person when I'm tired. A lot of that anxiety was about the SAT, ACT, and where I would go to college. Then senior year...I was so anxious about going away to school. Selfishly, I was afraid of what my mom and grandpa would do without me. I did worry about grandpa spending so much time alone, not that I was home that much in high school anyway because of my extracurriculars, but still. I had also been that kid that had to be picked up from sleepovers in the middle of the night when I was young, so I was also worried about spending so much time away from home and how lonely I would get. My mom and I had serious discussions about me taking a year off because I was so anxious about leaving and being lonely, etc.
Anxiety has held me back from a lot of things, many social situations, going to things where I didn't know anyone, and putting myself out there to experience new opportunities and meet new people. But somehow, God has kept me in the palm of His hand and has allowed me to still have so many wonderful experiences. One thing I've realized about anxiety is that it is all Satan. Anxiety is the sin that I struggle with the most, and I do think it's a sin, because it is not of God. God lays out in so many places in his Word that we are not to be anxious, but it's my weakness and Satan loves to prey on it. He constantly tells me that people won't like me if they know my heart, that they won't like how "twisted" some of my thoughts are, that I'm not good enough to be in that position, and that I'm unlovable and I cannot be redeemed. Sometimes I do get anxious about my salvation, and let me tell you, that's scary. I think it's something every Christian faces, because satan can literally be the devil on our shoulders telling us that God wouldn't want us because of what we've done. And when anxiety was taking over my life, the devil did just that. He told me that because of my past sins, and because of the fact that my anxiety is a sin I struggle with, sometimes hour by hour, that God wouldn't redeem me. But guess what? I've learned that those are complete lies. Satan is a terrible, horrible liar. Jesus died on the cross for you and me. When I read the gospel and read the part of Jesus's crucifixion, I can't help but cry. I'm overcome with such incredible emotion as the Holy Spirit whispers to me, "He loved you enough." And He did, He does. He loves me enough to die on the cross for my sins, and for my anxiety. Every thought of anxiety I must turn into a prayer, because the devil cannot be glorified in my anxiety. I've spent too many hours crying, too many sleepless nights, and I've had too many days lost to my anxiety. Enough.
I've noticed myself slipping back into many anxious thoughts and sleepless nights, so I've made a commitment to do my quiet time again, and so far so good. And last night while doing my Beth Moore study, the lesson ended with this. The instructions are to fill in every blank with your name...
My child, ________, I loved you before you were born. I knit you in your mother's womb and knew what your first and last words would be. I knew every difficulty you, ________, would face. I suffered each one with you. Even the ones you didn't suffer with me. I had a plan for your life before you were born. The plan has not changed, _______, no matter what has happened or what you have done. You see, I already knew all things concerning you before I formed you. I would never allow any hurt to come into your life that I could not use for eternity, ______. Will you let Me? Your truth is incomplete unless you view it against the backdrop of my truth. Your story, _______, will forever remain incomplete...until you let Me do what only I can do with your hurt. Let Me perfect that which concerns you.
I remain,
Your Faithful Father
I mean dang, cue the waterworks. So it's not going to be easy and it's going to be a daily surrendering of my heart, but this anxiety is His. He will sustain me and redeem me. So I encourage you, whatever you're struggling with right now, insert your name in those blanks above, and experience the freedom and love He has prepared for us...
And smile, God loves you!
"Do not be anxious in anything, but in everything, with prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."
-Philippians 4:6-7
I also had a terrible anxiety of breaking the rules. I was that kid, the tattletale. It wasn't that I thought the other kids were bad, it's that I never wanted anyone to get into trouble. This idea of following the rules has followed me my whole life, although I know things are much more grey than black and white.
The anxiety got bad when I was about 12. I went out to visit Courtney in California for Spring Break in 7th grade and I came back and I remember Grandma and Mom sitting me down and talking to me about how they think I needed to go talk to someone. I think at that point it was more depression rooted in my anxiety, but then a whole different can of worms was opened when my grandma died.
My junior and senior years of high school were when my anxiety really started affecting my every day life, and I stopped sleeping. For about two years I ran on about 4 hours of sleep a night. I know SO many people do this, but if you know me well, I am not a very nice person when I'm tired. A lot of that anxiety was about the SAT, ACT, and where I would go to college. Then senior year...I was so anxious about going away to school. Selfishly, I was afraid of what my mom and grandpa would do without me. I did worry about grandpa spending so much time alone, not that I was home that much in high school anyway because of my extracurriculars, but still. I had also been that kid that had to be picked up from sleepovers in the middle of the night when I was young, so I was also worried about spending so much time away from home and how lonely I would get. My mom and I had serious discussions about me taking a year off because I was so anxious about leaving and being lonely, etc.
Anxiety has held me back from a lot of things, many social situations, going to things where I didn't know anyone, and putting myself out there to experience new opportunities and meet new people. But somehow, God has kept me in the palm of His hand and has allowed me to still have so many wonderful experiences. One thing I've realized about anxiety is that it is all Satan. Anxiety is the sin that I struggle with the most, and I do think it's a sin, because it is not of God. God lays out in so many places in his Word that we are not to be anxious, but it's my weakness and Satan loves to prey on it. He constantly tells me that people won't like me if they know my heart, that they won't like how "twisted" some of my thoughts are, that I'm not good enough to be in that position, and that I'm unlovable and I cannot be redeemed. Sometimes I do get anxious about my salvation, and let me tell you, that's scary. I think it's something every Christian faces, because satan can literally be the devil on our shoulders telling us that God wouldn't want us because of what we've done. And when anxiety was taking over my life, the devil did just that. He told me that because of my past sins, and because of the fact that my anxiety is a sin I struggle with, sometimes hour by hour, that God wouldn't redeem me. But guess what? I've learned that those are complete lies. Satan is a terrible, horrible liar. Jesus died on the cross for you and me. When I read the gospel and read the part of Jesus's crucifixion, I can't help but cry. I'm overcome with such incredible emotion as the Holy Spirit whispers to me, "He loved you enough." And He did, He does. He loves me enough to die on the cross for my sins, and for my anxiety. Every thought of anxiety I must turn into a prayer, because the devil cannot be glorified in my anxiety. I've spent too many hours crying, too many sleepless nights, and I've had too many days lost to my anxiety. Enough.
I've noticed myself slipping back into many anxious thoughts and sleepless nights, so I've made a commitment to do my quiet time again, and so far so good. And last night while doing my Beth Moore study, the lesson ended with this. The instructions are to fill in every blank with your name...
My child, ________, I loved you before you were born. I knit you in your mother's womb and knew what your first and last words would be. I knew every difficulty you, ________, would face. I suffered each one with you. Even the ones you didn't suffer with me. I had a plan for your life before you were born. The plan has not changed, _______, no matter what has happened or what you have done. You see, I already knew all things concerning you before I formed you. I would never allow any hurt to come into your life that I could not use for eternity, ______. Will you let Me? Your truth is incomplete unless you view it against the backdrop of my truth. Your story, _______, will forever remain incomplete...until you let Me do what only I can do with your hurt. Let Me perfect that which concerns you.
I remain,
Your Faithful Father
I mean dang, cue the waterworks. So it's not going to be easy and it's going to be a daily surrendering of my heart, but this anxiety is His. He will sustain me and redeem me. So I encourage you, whatever you're struggling with right now, insert your name in those blanks above, and experience the freedom and love He has prepared for us...
And smile, God loves you!
"Do not be anxious in anything, but in everything, with prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus."
-Philippians 4:6-7
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