6 Impossible Things

Last weekend as I watched the new Alice in Wonderland movie for the umpteenth time, I began to wonder why the story of Alice has always been a favorite of mine. It is such a strange story, but I love it. When I was 6, I had a storybook party for my birthday and I was Alice.  On sick days as a child, I wore out the VHS with the recorded-from-TV real life movie version. I own several editions of the book, including a facsimile of the original text written in Lewis Carroll's handwriting.  As I reflected on what about this story resonated with me over the years, I realized that it was the adventures in a world where the impossible was possible. Alice stumbles through this world, not quite sure what is real and what is a dream, but she journeys on and through each adventure she finds her "muchness".

And isn't that how we live life? Not sure what we are doing, or where we are going, but dreaming big and hoping that if we just keep moving, maybe we will find our dreams are real? It's how I seem to live, at least. I have big dreams, and look forward to big adventures. I don't know where they are or what they will look like, but I stumble through hoping to find them along the way. And sometimes on this journey, the impossible seems to happen, because that word is not in the vocabulary of the Author of my story.  After this week, with the future more uncertain than ever, I needed that reminder. Impossible is not a part of my story. My story is bigger than budget cuts and a possible pink slip. In fact those things others see as tragedies, can be the catalyst for an even bigger adventure. So I stumble on....

Love Cost Everything

A few weeks ago I was inspired to start this blog up again. I missed writing and a friend encouraged me to go back to blogging. And so I did (see post below). But I did not advertise the new beginning, because I was still not sure how long I would stick with it. So instead I waited for inspiration to strike again, and then it did last night.

Last night, I was fortunate enough to be able to attend the Love Cost Everything simulcast at my church. This documentary was put together by CIY and Voice of the Martyrs and portrayed the persecuted church around the world. It was heart-wrenching, eye-opening, and above all one of the most challenging things I have seen in a long time.

I was struck by the steadfastness and joy that these people displayed. I couldn't help but wonder, would I do the same if my life and my family were in danger? How easily I get upset about the silly little problems that crop up in my life. What must it be like to face danger every time you walk out of your house? I don't think the point of the documentary was to minimize our own problems, though. Sure, let's put them in perspective, but we all face our own set of struggles. But how do we face them? Do we face them with joy or sorrow? With praise or complaints? Are we looking ahead to eternity or are we stuck in the grim present?

I was also amazed by the final plea made by the people who face persecution daily. "Do not pray for the persecution to end. Pray we will have strength to face it and that God will be glorified through it." Wow. Do I have the courage to pray to share in Christ's sufferings? I don't know. I would like to say yes, of course, but I don't know if I am there yet.

There is so much more I could say, so many stories to share, but really you should just watch the movie for yourself and then process through the challenges it presents. If you live in Cincinnati, it is showing again at Parkside this Sunday at 7pm. If you live elsewhere, look it up to see if it playing somewhere near you. It is definitely worth 2 hours of your time.

Steps of Grace

After several long months, I have decided to return to my blog.  It is an idea I have been playing around with for a while now. I do enjoy writing and have missed the creative outlet. However, I have struggled to find a cohesive idea for my writing. Before it was simple, I simply recorded the adventures of living in Bolivia. Nowadays,  life does not seem so interesting. Does anyone really care about the daily thoughts and ponderings of a first grade teacher in an urban school in the middle of the United States? Do I have anything to offer anymore? I realize that these questions that have plagued me for months are actually rooted in the deep dissatisfaction I find in life these days. From the glamour of overseas living to the dull daily routine of a young single public school teacher living at home, my life has drastically changed. Yet what I have begun to realize is that while outwardly my life has changed, I have not. I am still that same person who climbed mountains in Bolivia and played with the River kids. I still have a desire to touch the hearts of children for eternity. I still love travelling and adventures. I still hate injustice and desire to right the many wrongs in the world. I still have big dreams, and best of all I have a big God who turns our dreams into an even greater reality.   Right now I am being asked to wait and to grow and to seek Him. I know something more will come, but now I am being asked to find contentment in less.

As I pondered this new beginning to my blog, I wondered about a name change.  However, I think the name Steps of Grace is even more appropriate now than ever. The name comes from the worship dance troupe that  I was a part of in college. However, the truth it proclaims is one that transcends dance. Every morning I wake up and take a step out of bed, it is because of the grace of God. His grace allows me to live the life I desire and gives me the desire to live the life He wills. And that is what this blog will become, a place to record these steps, big or small, that will become a part of the life He has called me to.

homesick

life these days is different. i try not to compare and say it's worse, though on days like this it's hard not to. i miss the adventure of bolivia. these days my biggest adventure is trying to make it through a day without too many kids screaming or trying to jump out of windows. i miss the many beautiful bolivian children, so easy to love. but we can't look back. so i allow my self my memories, but then try to keep looking ahead....whatever may come.

musical medicine

i can't tell you how many times in the past few years i have listened to a song and thought, wow! this is the song of my life right now. it perfectly fits whatever situation i am in at the time. sometimes it is a song that i have listened to a thousand times but all of a sudden i get it, i really understand what it means. other times it is a new song from a favorite artist. and other times it is a song being played by someone else that i happen to hear. i have always found such comfort in these songs. i no longer feel alone in whatever i am going through. someone else gets it. someone else understands and has been able to put it into beautiful words.


a favorite memory from bolivia was meeting for staff devotions before school every morning for the first three years. it was a time to stop and be still before the craziness of the school day took over. it was a time for fellowship and reflection. it was during this time that i was introduced to the music of david wilcox.  he writes songs about life and introduces each song with his thoughts and reflections on the many things life throws our way . i remember always connecting to these songs in a deep way.


tonight, sitting around, reminiscing and sharing with friends from those days in bolivia, david wilcox was pulled out yet again, to share his insights on what we were thinking and feeling. and yet again, there was a song that could be on the soundtrack of my life:


It's the choice of a lifetime - I'm almost sure
I will not live my life in between any more
If I can't be certain of all that's in store
This far it feels so right
I will hold it up - hold it up to the light
Hold it up to the light, hold it up to the light

The search for my future has brought me here
This is more than I'd hoped for, but sometimes I fear
That the choice I was made for will someday appear
And I'll be too late for that flight

It's too late - to be stopped at the crossroads
Each life here - each a possible way
But wait - and they all will be lost roads
Each road's getting shorter the longer I stay

Now as soon as I'm moving - my choice is good
This way comes through right where I prayed that it would
If I keep my eyes open and look where I should
Somehow all of the signs are in sight
If I hold it up to the light

I said God, will you bless this decision
I'm so scared.  Is my life at stake
But I see if you gave me a vision
Would I ever have reason to use my faith?

I was dead with deciding - I was afraid to choose
I was mourning the loss of the choices I'd lose
But there's no choice at all if I don't make my move
And trust that the timing is right
Yes and hold it up to the light


and the best part: his website has a section called musical medicine, where he takes his songs and divides them according to topic. if you feel this way, listen to this song.  it makes finding the perfect "song of my life (at least for this week)" just a little bit easier. :)
http://davidwilcox.com/index.php?page=cds&category=01--MUSICAL_MEDICINE

waiting...

i've now been home over a month. i've spent time with my adorable little niece. i've cherished the last week with sarah, my friend and roommate from bolivia. i've seen almost every single member of my family, both sides (all 50-some of them). i've attended two weddings. i've watched 21 movies and countless episodes of gilmore girls. i've read 10 books. and i've applied to schools in denver, cincinnati, virginia, and north carolina. and i still don't have a job. i still haven't heard anything at all back from anyone i have contacted or applied to. and while i could easily panic...and often come close...i also continue to rest in that peace that passes understanding.

it's hard to think of much to write. i am just waiting. yet while i wait, i plan to continue to live and enjoy each moment, no matter how small.

Wait for the LORD; 

       be strong and take heart 

       and wait for the LORD.

Psalm 27:14 

          

let's go fly a kite

after perhaps the longest week of my life, full of goodbyes and tears, it was so wonderful to spend time with the river kids this afternoon. after being up until the wee hours of the morning saying one of the hardest goodbyes thus far, i climbed the mountain to the small brick church apprehensive of yet another gut-wrenching, heartbreaking goodbye. last week when i announced my leaving, the room turned quiet, the children prayed the sweetest prayers i have ever heard, calling me their second mom, and tears streamed down their faces. how could i face another afternoon like that? especially after this week of a new goodbye every day?

thankfully, i didn't have to. it was just like any other sunday, except more peaceful and calm than usual. the kids slowly trickled in. we had some time to sit and catch our breath. then we went outside to where the boys stood at the highest points flying their homemade kites. using only a plastic bag, sticks, and string, these ingenious little boys had fashioned amazingly successful little kites.

after a while, tatiana got bored with the kite watching and we went back inside. we sat for a while bouncing a small ball back and forth, and then i taught her how to play jacks, using the little broken crayons in her pocket.  others wandered in and out, trying their hand at the game, making new kites, and coloring in the new coloring books we had brought. at one point, while i was helping tatiana color a picture, i looked up and just soaked in the sights and sounds of small groups of children coloring around the room, others outside playing soccer, and others just sitting playing with little army men. my heart, which had broken a thousand times over in the last week, filled with love for these beautiful children. and once again, i asked myself what i was doing, why was i leaving.

the day ended with the children enjoying the first donuts they had ever had...most didn't even know what a donut was! after one final group picture, three year old carolina  dragged me down the mountain for the last time.  and as heartbreaking as it was to pull away from the little shanty town for the last time, it had really been the perfect way to say goodbye.

You keep track of all my sorrows.
      You have collected all my tears in your bottle. Psalm 56:8