God might not be enough.

I sat at church tonight face to face with a scary realization. I don't know if God is enough for me. It's easy to say that He is. If anybody would ask me if I thought He was enough I would give a big hearty 'yes' without any hesitation. Of course He's enough, He's GOD. I know that I'm not sure He's enough for me because of the way I've been living. 

I've graduated from college. 
I'm living at home. 
And I'm a substitute teacher every once in awhile.
 I'm in this transition season of life and I don't like it. I don't like it one bit. On days I substitute, I love it. I love LCA, mainly because I love the kids. And of course my PE friends. But on the days I don't go there, I'm depressed. I stay in my room, leaving only to make coffee and eat a banana. I read; I sleep. And I'm not happy. I want to teach PE. I want to teach anything. I want to inspire kids and laugh with them through high school. I want to coach. I want to talk to kids about Lance Armstrong and teach them the thousands of morals that come from his story about sports and winning and lying and cheating. I want a job that requires me to wake up early and come home tired. 

But I don't have any of that. So I'm sad. Why? Because God is not enough for me. And that breaks my heart. He's opening my eyes to see that even though I don't have any of those things what I do have is unlimited time to sit alone with Him. 

I can see now that the Lord, in His goodness, has prepared these days for me. I need to understand that He truly is enough. Because to know that Jesus is enough is to know Jesus. I've previously testified to and declared it because I've known it to be true. But now it's time for me to know it on a deeper level. 

 So even though I have no job, no independence, no man pursuing me, no credit, no five year plan...I have Jesus. & the hope that He could be enough.

so much pain

Tragedy seems to be a part of every day life now. We not only hear stories on the news of bad things happening but we actually know these people to whom bad things are happening. I know children with cancer and adults who have had to deal with the deaths of their (supposed-to-be lifelong) spouses. A family I know had their house robbed while they were away for the holidays. Still yet there are global issues such as hunger and sex slavery and war. It's overwhelming. And it's tempting to ask where God is in all of it. Many people, including those who have a relationship with God, beg to know why it's all happening. Can't He just stop it all? Doesn't He care? Why doesn't He step in and do something? Is He not good? Is He not loving? 

I discovered this song this morning. As I was looking for the lyrics I came upon the artist's blog and an explanation of the song. Below is the song and an excerpt from his blog.

"In the Scriptures, even when pressed by Job, God never gives a philosophically satisfactory answer to the ‘problem of evil;’ He does not wrap up the issue in an understandable and graspable package. Instead, and many years later through Christ, God offers the only response I’ve ever found to be satisfying on any level; the sacrificial action of the Cross. Certainly, there are philosophical implications to the Cross of Christ but they are peripheral to the act itself. It seems to me me that the pain in you is not so much a matter of philosophical crisis as it is a call to to suffer with those who suffer and to do so redemptively. I believe the philosophical crisis is real, but I believe the latter is more vital. Both offer a path of suffering: you will either suffer internally because you cannot make sense of the world and it’s Creator, or you will suffer in a way that brings healing."

Justin McRoberts Blog

These people suffering are His children. And because of this, He provided a way to bring hope. He sent His only Son to die so that we could be saved from this deep despair. If you believe this, and you know the One who is life, then you must offer this to the hurting people around you. We can suffer because He too suffered. And even better, we can rejoice in victory because He rejoices in victory that evil and death have already been conquered. Cry and hurt and grieve knowing that it can all be redeemed at the foot of the cross. 

deep and wide

Sometimes I wonder why I didn't get a degree in something that would land me a job that paid the big bucks. I loved numbers, algebra, and problem-solving growing up. Why didn't I go into business or engineering? I love people. I could have been a physical therapist or a nurse. 

Why did I spend four years passionate about a profession that 8 out of 10 people think is a joke? I feel as though I'll spend half of my career defending health & physical education and the other half actually teaching kids about it. But I read a tweet from Lecrae the other day and I remembered exactly why I wanted to be a teacher in the first place...

"Fight for depth in life, not just breadth. What good is it to be a million miles wide but only an inch deep?"

I realized that while professional athletes make more money in a year than I'll probably make in my entire life...they're busy getting wide. They reach hundreds of thousands of people, yes. The majority of whom they will never meet. Strangers have their names written on jerseys and pictures and Facebook cover photos.

Engineers create buildings and ideas that will reach and accommodate thousands of people as well. Businessmen deal with numbers and clients on a shallow basis. Dentists and doctors put up with you when they have to, but usually they have 10 other people to see in the next hour. "...a million miles wide..."

On the other hand, teachers go deep. They care and mentor and encourage and love more than you can ever imagine. Sometimes they're so busy being moms and dads for students they hardly have time to be a parent for their own children. They believe in students who don't even know what it's like to have someone cheer them on in this tough thing called life. 

When I started teaching I was prepared to explain to my students how to throw and catch. I could handle teaching kids how to skip and gallop and juggle. When I started teaching high schoolers I was even prepared to teach them how to play flag football and what BEEF stands for when shooting a basketball. What I wasn't prepared for was how to console a student whose mom died after a 13 year battle with cancer. I didn't know how to treat 16 year old girls who had been beaten and abandoned. And I certainly couldn't help girls so lost in self-esteem issues when I have struggled so much with that myself.

Yes, college prepared me to teach health and physical education. But it wasn't so great at preparing me to teach students. 

So as I lay in my bed at 9pm on a Friday night, so exhausted from a week of teaching, I am realizing that teaching is so much than that. It's about caring and loving and praying, really praying, for you students. It's about going deep. 

rescued

Have you ever been rescued?

I found myself in a rescue-worthy situation today. Student teaching with a substitute is a lot more difficult and terrible than it sounds. Trust me. I knew it was gonna be a long day when she got lost (who knows where) with half of my 6th grade class during first period. It only got worse from there. 

Without getting into too much detail, two fellow co-workers pulled out the drawing board halfway through the day and devised a plan to come save me. With a flawless plan and expert tactics they rescued me. 

I don't think I've ever been rescued. I don't think I have ever been in a dire situation that I needed to be rescued from. But today I caught a glimpse of what it feels like to be rescued. To be taken from a place of hopelessness to a place full of life. There's nothing quite like it. And as I am thinking back to the happenings of the day, I think forward to tomorrow morning. 

Tomorrow morning I am running a race. Not just to run or to have fun or to hang out with a bunch of cool people; but to rescue. I am running to rescue women from sexual slavery. I am running for their lives. [www.r4tl.com]

If you've ever been rescued, you might have a tidbit of an idea of what you can do for these girls and women. You can help them leave hopelessness and fear and shame behind and lead them on to freedom and hope and life and laughter and JESUS. What better rescue could there be? 

If you can't participate tomorrow, there are many other things you can do to help the girls and women caught in sexual slavery. Visit these websites and become part of a rescue team: 
http://www.freedom424.org/
http://www.ijm.org/
http://www.houseofhopenicaragua.com/

October

"October gave a party; 

The leaves by hundreds came - 

The Chestnuts, Oaks, and Maples, 

And leaves of every name. 

The Sunshine spread a carpet, 

And everything was grand, 

Miss Weather led the dancing, 

Professor Wind the band."

George Cooper

i LOVE this month. it's the best.

and today is a spectacular day.

two special, special people were born on this day...

[^she took me to Wegmans for the first time!]

 Liz Bell: manager turned best friend. My friendship with her is unlike any other. She has taught me what it's like to passionately enjoy something, whether it's food or nail polish or family or Starbucks. We've laughed until we've cried countless times. I've seen her live out faith. She's one of the most beautiful girls I know, in every sense of the word. I am a better employee, college student, twenty-something girl, & Christ follower because I can call her a friend. I love her. 

Luke Crouthamel: cousin. The fact that this kid is family just leaves me feeling so blessed. Anyone who knows Luke knows that he is the man. Really. I respect him more than 9/10th of the guys I know. His pursuit of Jesus is undeniable, even in his every day decisions. He is fun and crazy, reminding me so much of the way my own brother used to be. I thank the Lord every opportunity I get for Luke and the relationship we have. I am a better cousin, daughter, sister, future girlfriend, intramural sports player, & PE teacher because he is my cousin and friend. I love him. 

I hope you celebrate birthdays. I hope you know the birthdays of the people in your life. And don't just acknowledge them on facebook. Send them a funny text, take them balloons, eat cupcakes with them, hug them until they can't breathe. Because birthdays are meant to be celebrated! People are meant to be celebrated!! :]

Jesus loves the little children...

The hoarseness of my voice has been a constant reminder for the last week and a half that I have very little patience with children. Don't get me wrong, I love kids. They bring joy and laughter to almost any situation. They sing and dance and say the darndest things. But when it comes to teaching them a skill (such as sliding or galloping) in PE class, they become wild little jumping beans who can't stay quiet. In the most strange way they become like magnets with each other, always hugging or pushing or just touching their classmates. At some points, I even think their ears have fallen off because not one, not a single one, has done what I have asked. More times than I can count I have stopped, closed my eyes, and called upon the name of Jesus. I say over and over, "Jesus, please give me patience," and, "Pleaseeeee help me to love these little hellions." 

I wish fairy dust would fall from the sky and cover me in patience when I pray that. I almost expect to have this sudden love for each of the children. But of course, none of that happens. I am still in a gym full of elementary students running and yelling and shoving. Probably because God doesn't want me to just ask for patience in my moments of annoyance. He wants to develop it in me so it lasts. He wants me to want more patience not so my job is easier but because He is patient with me. 

This, of course, didn't hit me until late last week. I was driving to school and in frustration kinda talking to God about how easily I get annoyed with the students. I blame some of it on not being a mom. I just don't have that mercy and grace that comes with being a mom. It annoys me when they cry and when they just stand there and don't want to participate. Then the Holy Spirit stepped in and reminded me of something: 

I was trying to get something that I already have access to. 

He loves children. He has infinite patience with youngsters. So the more I empty me of myself and let the Holy Spirit work through me the more patient I will be. 

My voice is still scratchy. And I still teach rowdy students. But the Holy Spirit helps me to laugh more. He gives me discernment as to when to stand there and wait for the students to get quiet instead of yelling and yelling until they listen. He's opened my eyes and now it's so easy for me to understand why all these children are so precious in His sight.

name tags

Wednesday nights I can be found at Blue Ridge Community Church talking about one of my least favorite things. Actually, I can easily say I hate it: divorce. I hate it because God hates it. I hate it because of the negative ways it has affected my life and the lives of people around me. "So why do you talk about it every Wednesday?" you may ask. Because talking about divorce can bring healing. Healing not just for myself but for middle schoolers and high schoolers. We talk about things like sadness & anger & loneliness & why it is not our faults. To open and address our wounds will more readily turn them into scars. And scars tell stories.

On these particular nights I have taken the role of name tag maker. When the kids come in I take a marker and jot their names on sticky labels. About halfway through the night we were all sitting in a big circle talking and something caught my eye. My handwriting was on a girl who is homeschooled who doesn't like religion. I turned to the right and saw my handwriting on a 16 yr. old boy who doesn't want to live. I looked on around the circle and saw my writing on numerous teenagers who I've only been around 3 or 4 times. And I realized that when they left, even though they took their name tags off, my mark would still be on them. And I couldn't help but ask myself what kind of mark I was leaving. 

I pray that I leave them with Jesus. That through my laughter and jokes they can see His joy. Through my stories and heartaches they can see His redemption & grace. I hope that through my awkward questions and comments they can feel His love and His relentless pursuit of them. Maybe just maybe when they leave that room on Wednesdays night they leave me and take Jesus. Because His name tag is the only one worth wearing anyways.