The Help

"Will you come in and help me? I really don't know what to say."

The words felt unnatural coming out of my mouth because I don't really ask for help at work or in life. However, I really wanted to be absolved of all responsibility to discuss the death of this parent with a room full of eight and nine year olds.

In retrospect, I can see how it is best coming from me, but I am afraid to say the wrong thing or say it the wrong way. I feel like I can't handle this issue and I wish someone would do it for me.

They need to see from me that everything is going to be okay, and that they are still in a safe world; they also need to see that I have compassion for the situation and the loss matters to me. They don't need to see that I shake a little bit when I think about going to that funeral on Saturday (the first one I've ever been to for a suicide). They don't need to see that I kind of wish this child was in someone else's classroom because I feel suddenly young and inexperienced to handle this.

All of this makes me think about what I believe about teaching and life and God. I'm only in my fifth year of teaching and this is the second time I have dealt with a really tragic situation impacting my classroom. Two years ago, I had a student who discovered suddenly that she had a life-threatening brain tumor the year she was in my class. We didn't know what would happen and we didn't know if she would be okay. I am happy to report that she is doing well today. The tumor is completely removed and she is in school full time again. She's in fifth grade now and she said to me the other day, "You know, when I was in third grade, it was a really bad year, but I am glad you were there and helped me get through it."

Now, I find myself trying to help this child who had a parent commit suicide and wants nothing more than to be in school as much as possible because that is where she is happiest. I realize that twice I've had kids in my class who are experiencing the worst year of their young lives (who are experiencing a worse year than I've ever experienced in my young life), and I can't believe they are there by coincidence. I think God puts them with me so they'll be closer to him. He loves them and I pray and try to do what He wants. I think he is trying to reach them through me. I find myself saying the same words to him that I was saying to the VP, words I don't say a lot. "Will You come in and help me? I really don't know what to say?"

Random Thoughts and Apologies

I leave tomorrow, for a week. Don't expect to hear from me for a week. Not that you would, I guess I have been quiet lately. I get like that.

I dreamed last night that I was sitting on a patio cafe. I saw on the road two eighteen wheel trucks fast approaching each other. They met and with great speed both metal monsters veered directly toward cafe. I realized that it was too late to run away, so I hid under the table and thought, "What good will this table do? Either metal will crush me or I will escape under it." I thought that maybe this was it, and then I thought, "Well, I will see what happens next." I wasn't afraid, but I wasn't sure either. Would God be waiting for me? Perhaps Hell or maybe nothing? I just didn't know.

When I was younger everything just seemed so black and white. Faith was an anchor and everything made sense. Then, I woke up one day and my world looked grey. Still, my heart longs to be good, to know God, and to live in light. It's just that what is good doesn't seem such a cut and dry question.

My faith is like an insurance policy and my prayers feel like I am talking to a therapist. It's like I don't expect an answer.

I believe in God, as I always have. It's just that lately I wonder if He is very different than I thought.

A whole week with my family will be interesting because they remain black and white and sure of God.

Swings

When I was a little girl I loved to swing. Going up your eyes would be drawn from earth to sky. Coming down the sky would meld into the ground. Then, all that mattered was that there was a sky and there was the ground. I knew that they were somehow one, but knowing that was enough.

It's Easter today. I like Easter, of course, because I believe in the salvation celebrated. In some ways, however, I think that I am not such an Easter girl. It's kind of like the pep rally of Christian holidays. I've never really fit into a pep rally.

On Easter, you're supposed to wear bright colors and sing peppy songs. I usually go to church ready to reflect and learn. I feel more comfortable on Good Friday or Christmas Eve.

Today, though, I was having some trouble getting into the "Easter Spirit" at all. Recently, I haven't been attending church. I keep on tithing by automatic withdrawal. I keep on trying to follow my moral compass. I even keep praying.

I don't want to throw away my beliefs, but I've felt recently that I do not belong in a church. I've felt unsure if I believe everything the church stands for. I am like the man who prayed, "Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief."

Today, though, it was interesting. Our pastor preached the typical Easter sermon on Matthew 28, but he focused on the fact that the disciples all worshipped Jesus when they saw him, but some doubted. He pointed out that you can worship and not feel secure in all things related to your beliefs.

In some ways, I am still like a little girl on the swing. I see the terrestrial and the celestial, but where they meet just looks blurry right now.

More on Gender Roles

When I was very young, maybe even as young as four, I was sitting in church. The pastor must have been preaching on the crucifixion--I don't remember that part--but he said, "I was there; I carried that cross!"

Everyone was listening intently, but I was sitting there thinking, "Why do all of these adults believe this? This happened a long time ago, and this man couldn't have been born..."

Obviously, I wasn't developmentally ready for the abstract concept he was addressing. As Piaget would say it, I was concrete operations sitting in an abstract situation.

The thing is that it was confusing because my family told me, "Everything at church is true you should believe it." For a long time, I couldn't distinguish what I thought was true from what I was told was true. That's where I am at with gender roles.

My developing mind accepted what I was told about a wife submitting to her husband. My whole life that has been a concept I have begrudgingly lived with. My whole family believes that is part of marriage. Yes, my church believed that too. It wasn't a belief that was abusive to women. It wasn't a belief that I would call repressive because women have a choice. There are no submission police. It wasn't a belief that women are less than men. That's not my issue. It's just that I woke up one day and thought, "What if I don't believe that?" What if I think that marriage and family decisions are a completely equal partnership and not about authority on either side? What if I don't even want to try to submit? What if I think that if my hypothetical husband absolutely thinks I am wrong and I think he is wrong that we should use rock-paper-scissors and not his authority to see what we should do (yes, I am being facetious, but I do think consensus, not authority could work)?

In theological circles, we call this debate egalitarianism versus complementarianism. Once I wrote a paper defending complementarianism, but that was before I really lived out in the real world. Now, I just can't believe that anymore.

I don't think that women who choose to practice complementarianism are cheating themselves. My Grandmother lived that way and was happy every day of her life. I just woke up one day, and I realized that I don't have to do it. That thought was freeing.

Polygamy and Patriarchy and the Usurpers

I have been feeling really stressed at work lately. This group of children is so difficult. I come home and fall straight asleep. Anyway, I'm not going to write about that right now. It's all pretty standard anyway.

Lately, I've been watching Big Love seasons 1 and 2. I wanted to watch it because I have been watching the corresponding reality show, Sister Wives and found it fascinating.

Why do I find it fascinating? I think it is the mix of modern women and antiquated gender roles. My religion doesn't embrace polygamy, but it certainly endorses patriarchy.

At young age, I learned about the male being the head of the household and wives submitting to their husbands. I've heard more sermons on the differences between men and women than I can count.

Here's the most typical sermon I've heard: a woman's primary need is to be loved and taken care of and a man's primary need is to be respected. I heard this sermon when I was probably eight, for the first time. I remember thinking at eight years old, "Well, I would rather be loved and respected, but I would choose respected if I had to make a choice."

For a long time in my life I didn't say much about my problems with patriarchy. People told me all the time that women don't like to submit and that if they don't do it they will be poison to their families. I didn't want to be poison.

At a young age, I learned the word "usurping." It means that one is seizing power inappropriately. I think that I learned that young because everyone felt that I was at risk for being an "usurper." They were right; I totally am. The thing is that they mean by that that the women is passive aggressive, subversive, and manipulative. I've always been honest and forthright, but naturally I am not a follower.

Additionally, I think the culture I grew up in took this stuff a step further. Ambition, leadership, and even strength aren't generally appreciated in women in circles I've been raised in. It's better to be quiet and sweet natured.

I hear all the time about how emotional all women are, BUT I am an exception to that rule. I'm not naturally emotional, and I've always been confused when I've been told that I just need to be myself to find that side of me.

I think that growing up in that culture did change me. I hold back more of myself because I was taught to. Women being opinionated was bad. Women being in leadership was bad.

As I watch this show, I really identify with the oldest daughter of the family, Sarah. She doesn't like the way the women are sometimes treated in her faith, but she loves her family.

At one point, her mother asked her if she was sleeping with her boyfriend because she had been walking away from the family faith. "Mormons don't have the exlcusive rights to morality," she answered.

Now, at 26, I am starting to feel a bit like her (though my religion is a different one). I still believe in God. I still believe in Christianity. I just think that maybe people are using it wrongly. There was a time when people used it to keep slaves in bondage. There was a time when people used it to justify many terrible actions.

I think that I can be every bit as strong and independent as I feel and keep my Christian beliefs in tact.

Following

The pastor said today, "Following Jesus is intensely personal, but it is never private."

My work is teaching and one lesson I've learned is that even when you're not doing it right, you've got to let other educators see you do it. You've got to share your struggles. You've got to watch them. You can't go this work alone.

Readers, the Christian walk makes teaching look easy. I say this knowing that many of you have read about my worst moments. All the sleepless nights and the emotional roller coaster I seem to live all the time in this profession, they don't mean much in the grand scheme of things. This year I want to write more about things that matter, indeed, I want to live more for things that matter.

I've spoken before about how my mind is so logical that sometimes I literally can't process my own emotions until I write through a situation. Ever since I was very young, I had a habit of sitting and staring. I wasn't daydreaming, I was thinking. When I got older, I used to write lengthy philosophical papers in brief periods of time, but I always spent time just thinking first. Now, I miss a lot of time to think due to my schedule, but I think before I blog.

Because I am such an intensely intellectual person, I always expected that my experience with faith would be largely thinking. Maybe God laughs in the face of that because my faith has always been personal. Now, I find that my doubts are intensely personal.

It's funny because I would be exactly the sort of person to doubt intellectually. I love reading philosophy. I love science. Intellectually I don't have a problem with doubting because I see the limitations. In any line of thought there's a beginning. I have always believed and continue to believe God is the starting point. He's the anchor.

I love God. I always have and I always will. Now, in my early twenties (I guess we're coming up on the late twenties now), I have a doubt problem. I have a doubt problem doubting what God wants me to do. God led me here. I know that.

I just have a hard time knowing how to live a godly life here. My best friends these days don't know God like I do. They don't live for him like I do. It hurts to believe around them.

My christian friends fall into two categories. Some of them are moderate. They believe in God, but they don't worry too much about living a godly life. The second group works to live a godly life, but their immediate circles are filled with others like them. The people who believe differently are more of an idea to them. They don't have the conflict I do because they don't spend every day with good people who believe differently.

Abstractly, sin and atonement and justification, it all makes sense. Personally, it is breaking my heart. I get mad at God because I wonder if good people will go to hell.

I've been having this struggle for a while, but church seemed the last place to talk about it. Today, though, the pastor basically gave us all permission to be accountable together and talk about the things we're doing wrong. Goodness knows, admitting my short comings in teaching has always helped me. It is time for me to think about the bigger issues.

The Rooftop

Something you might not know about me is that my undergraduate degree is a dual major. It is elementary education and Bible. I have thorough background in protestant theology and literal interpretation of the Bible.

I was thinking about David and how he was so close to God, the God, who created everything. He lived in a palace and he was king, but he screwed up everything. I don't actually know how old he was at this point, but I imagine that he was about twenty-five. There has been a lot of theological discussion on why he fell away from God and why he did it. I think he did it because he got so wrapped up in life that God's influence grew dimmer. He lost his focus.

That's why I think he was twenty-five. I feel like I might lose focus too.

I talk to God all the time. I always have. I used pray just in case there was a God who was listening. Then, I prayed because I always got answers. Now, I pray because I know God is listening anyway and I figure I might as well talk to him directly.

I know God is listening to me. I know in some sense what He wants of me, but lately his voice is dimmer.

My heart says go to church and I try, but it's like all I ever hear about is how to raise kids and build godly marriage. They are always saying that those of us who are not married should pray for our future families. I never talk to God about that, though, unless someone tells me to. I talk to God about the real and the tangible and I ask him questions. I just don't want to talk to him about a fictional marriage and children.

I feel like church wants me to fit into this box for women that I don't fit into. I ask God if that is really what He wants from me then why none of those things seem to fall into place. I don't believe that God is like a mettlesome parent pressuring me to meet a nice boy and settle down. Church is like that, though.

That is why I feel a little lost at church and a little more at home out on the town. Yet, I am trying to be faithful to what God wants from me. I stay anchored to the good, right, and true; but I feel like I am already out on the roof questioning the life I have and wondering what might be out there.

Violent Dream

Sometimes I think I need a therapist and not a blog, BUT I have what I have. I had a terribly violent dream last night, and it seemed so real. The strange thing is usually a violent dream would wake me up, but this one didn't. The reason being that I went into crisis mode and controlled my emotions exactly the way I would in real life. Remembering what I dreamed today left me more distressed than I was in the moment I was actually dreaming it.

Now, the rest of my post is rated "R" due to violence, so quit reading if you don't want to know.

My dream was set in the past. It was either in the late nineteenth century or very early twentieth century. I was riding my bike through the town (wearing a rather Victorian costume). There were storm clouds over head, and I heard the warning bells. I knew something was wrong at my house, so I rode my bike to the edge of town and then I dropped my bike to run through the woods the rest of the way to my house. Mud was getting all over my white tights and skirt. By the time I got to the clearing where the house was, the sun was setting and it was getting dark. The police (in 19th century get up) were there. I could smell ash in the air. "Excuse me Miss, you can't go any further. It isn't safe and nothing can be done," an officer told me. I shook him off of me, and ran up the porch steps into the house which had clearly been on fire. Inside it was a bloody massacre. My family (it wasn't my real family but in my dream I knew it was my family) were all either dead or dying. I ran to my sister (I don't have a sister in real life, but in my dream I did) and a beam had fallen over her severing her bottom half from her top half. She was still blinking but she couldn't speak. I knelt down over her and tried to comfort her stroking her face. I stayed with her until she died. Blood was all over my white dress.

It is just a dream. This dream, though, felt really real.

Anyway, as violent and unpleasant as this dream was it does represent who I was made to be in some ways. Recently, I've been struggling with my faith. In a church your heart doesn't always show, but your questions and your doubt seem to.

I have never been a follower. It has gotten me into lots of trouble over the years. I remember once when Principal Sadie was trying to describe how incorrigible I was, she said to me "what would it be like if everyone was like this?" I had to agree that it would not be good. That statement was strikingly like something a professor had said to me in college. I got in BIG trouble for writing a paper that apparently rocked the boat and had to undergo some review to decide if my heart was in the right place for a mission minded school. I think I passed the review by the skin of my teeth.

Recently, I have been having another experience like this as I have helped my friend leave her husband. My brother even said to me, "Divorce is wrong and you shouldn't encourage this." Yet, when my friend says, "I want to end my life because of my unhappiness in this relationship," I never hesitated in my resolve to help her.

I guess what I am trying to say is that in the body of Christ we're not all the smile or the heart beat. Sometimes we're the eyes. We see the big mess. It looks different from our perspective. It's true that if everyone was stubborn and analytical and followed logic more than advice we would not be a peaceful world. Sometimes I do go too far. It's also true that there has to be some people like that or there would be even more injustice in this world.

A Little Tanner, A Little Older--Whoops I Mean Wiser

When I look at myself in the mirror, ultimately, there is only one thing I want to see. I want to see a girl or a woman who does the right thing. In my career and in my personal life and in my family I try to follow my moral compass.

Months ago one of my best friends came to me and asked for help. She was in a bad marriage and was literally afraid to leave her husband. She was also afraid of what she would do to herself if she remained in this relationship. I didn't hesitate and I didn't question her. I just said, "I will help you." My roommate who is also best friends with this girl responded exactly the same.

I have never wavered in my decision to help her. I understand that I am taking on personal risk because the man she is leaving is quite unstable. I understand that I am taking on gossip because my friend isn't going to air her dirty laundry and people who don't know the whole story see things differently.

I have had to cover all the windows in my house. I had to warn my work not to allow any personal visitors to my classroom. I had to stay out of my house so that he couldn't come find me this weekend.

I am completely satisfied with my choice. I am anxious about danger I might have taken on, but I accept risk. The thing that is shocking me most as my friend has made this decision is the reaction of my Christian brothers and sisters.

My friend has had people sending her scripture saying she would be damned to Hell for seeking divorce. There are so many rumors flying around about my friend and also me and my roommate.

I knew that the man who my friend was leaving would have an over the top and irrational reaction. I had no idea that so many others who have only surface knowledge of this situation would judge her and me apparently.

I pray that I can continue to handle all of this with grace. I know why I did what I did to help my friend and I do not question that. Let people talk and do what they will.

Psalm 73

Surely God cares about children and those who help them.

But as for me, my feet had almost slipped;
I had nearly lost my foothold.
I envied the arrogant
when I saw how easy life was for those who live for themselves.
They don't worry about paying bills;
they don't feel guilty when they don't work hard.
They don't take on the burdens of others;
they're not conflicted.
They have all the power.
They don't hear God calling them to sacrifice.
They take and take, but don't give.

That is what it is like to live for yourself.
It is easy and carefree.

What a fool I am.
Believing in a calling, and acting on that belief.
All day long it is hard;
I have been punished every morning.

If I say, "I will speak thus,"
I would have betrayed your children.
When I tried to understand all this,
it was oppressive to me
till I entered the sanctuary of God;
then I understood their final destiny.

...

When my heart was grieved
and my spirit embittered,
I was senseless and ignorant;
I was a brute beast before you.

Yet I am always with you;
you hold me by the right hand.
You guide me with your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.

Whom have I in heaven but you?
And earth has nothing I desire accept you.
My flesh and my strength may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.

Those who are far from you will perish;
you destroy all who are unfaithful to you.
But as for me, it is good to be near God.
I have made the sovereign Lord my refuge;
I will tell of all your deeds.

Sometimes you walk into a sanctuary, and sometimes you walk into an office, and sometimes a sanctuary is an office. Today I needed to be reminded that God is my portion. I have been doing a pretty good job of feeling monumentally sorry for myself. I teach because God put me there. By going around with the attitude I've had I betray the kids God put in my room.

At the beginning of the year, when I was so unhappy about moving gradelevels, I had to realize that whatever kids God brings into my room, He does it for a reason. Wherever this crazy journey is taking me, I have God holding me by the right hand.

I found my faith again today.

Close Encounters

Have you ever thought about what it would be like if things were like they were in the Gospels. What if you just ran into Jesus on the street like the woman at the well or like the people at the wedding party he encountered or even like the people in his everyday life. I have been thinking about what he would say to me. So, the close encounter I referenced isn't E.T.. This is my fictional story about what I think it would be like if I encountered God in my every day life.

The smell of coffee hung thick in the air. The city Starbucks was kind of like a townsquare or a gathering space. The thing that made Starbucks distinct from a townquare was there wasn't a lot of interaction among patrons. People in the city like to be together without actually interacting.

A young woman sat in the corner with her Cinnamon Dulce Latte, her laptop, and books stacked almost above her head. Post-it notes protruded from various points in the tower of books. The young woman was well kempt and had a relaxed but focused air about her. She seemed like the kind of person who was probably doing something important; she seemed like the sort of girl who didn't want to be bothered.

Her focus seemed to be growing exponentially as she flipped hurriedly through various books found in various places in the large stack. She tried to grab a book from the bottom, and the effort resembled a difficult game of Jenga. In the process, she knocked her coffee off of the small table and it got all over her trendy suede boots and important papers stacked on the floor.

"Oh no," she uttered as she ran to the stand holding napkins. She toweled off her boots first, but upon thinking about it, ran back to save what she could of her work. She was pleasantly surprised to find that an older gentleman was cleaning up her mess. "Thank you, but please you don't need to do that," she said to him.

"Oh, it's no trouble," he replied authoritatively enough that she couldn't argue.

After some time, the man and the girl had salvaged some papers and thrown away the ruins. "I am afraid that is the best you're going to to do," chuckled the older man.

"I think you are right. Please, let me buy you a cup of coffee. It's the least I can do," replied the young woman. "What can I get you?"

"I'll have whatever you were having," he answered.

"Okay," she smiled, "but it is very sugary--Cinnamin Dulce Latte."

"In that case, how about just a cup of black coffee."

The young woman went to the counter and retrieved two fresh coffees, black.

"Do you mind if I ask what you're working so diligently on?" the man asked.

"No, I'm a teacher and a graduate student. I was working on a research based project to impliment with my third graders."

"Your thirdgraders?"

The girl smiled, "Well, my students, I guess after a while it feels like my thirdgraders. You know, my twenty-one kids."

"That's a lot of responsibility for a young woman. It must be difficult. I see you are here working on Sunday night."

"Yes, it's what I do, though. For now at least."

"You're thinking of leaving?"

"No, I just-- Things are so bad politically. I have no idea if I'll have a job at all next year. This is my third year and things are different. Early on, I had to learn to manage the day to day realities in a classroom. Now, I am starting to look at the bigger picture and I just feel helpless to what will happen. I can do what I can do but I'm in the midst of a bigger situation."

The man was looking at her bag and as the young woman directed her eyes to what his gaze was fixed on she noticed he was looking at the Bible in her oversized bag. "You are a woman of faith?" he asked nodding at the bag.

"Oh, yes, yes I am."

"Does that give you some comfort in this situation?"

The girl was at a loss for words--though she was not the type of girl who was ever at a loss for words. "Well," she stammered, "I guess it should be, but I guess I just always think politics are too dirty for God. It's like we're on our own for that."

"It seems to me, that God is precisely in the business of cleaning up what is dirty. He sends people of faith to do his work and even when they can accomplish his purpose in some small way, they are armed with his power. Not much to fear in that."

Something about the twinkle in the man's eyes made her wonder if he was talking about his own work in cleaning up coffee or her work in the classroom or something else. Suddenly she was aware that they had both been sitting in silence for several minutes. It should have been socially akward, but it wasn't.

The coffee cups were empty. "It must be getting late," she said.

"You're very busy," the man observed, "your work is important to you, but there is so much more to life, child, than the books on top of this table."

She should have been insulted to be called child, but it felt oddly comforting.

"I know. I just want to get things done. I have so much responsibility, and it is like you said. I am a young woman and it is hard to balance."

"When first I came into this shop, you were having quite a time cleaning up that coffee, but you didn't ask for help and you told me not to help. Perhaps, you don't have too much to do. You just don't see the help you have."

"How can I? See it--I mean."

"Well, perhaps you have the wrong book in the bag and the wrong books on the table for a Sunday afternoon. You'll find some answers in your books, but to find help you have to look up. Get your nose out of the book I mean."

The barrista was mopping the floor and turning the open sign over. The shop was closing up and it was time to go home.

"Well, young lady, it has been so good talking with you tonight. I feel certain that you will do what you need to. You're doing good work and I thank you for it. Just remember, you don't have to do it all on your own."

Don't Leave the Lights on and Your Door Open on the Way Out

When I was a little girl I had some bad habits that my mother tried to break me of. I was always leaving the light on, the radio going, the cereal box out, or the door open. I don't have the same drive to finish things well that I have to start them. I have a lot of half-read books. I have even more half written pieces. All these things are minor, but my tendency to switch courses runs deeper. For example, this is the first year that I haven't moved in six years (although part of that is due to college). I switch churches all the time. I am trying to stick with things more, but I also know that when you've turned off all the lights and the radio and closed the door that it is okay to change rooms.

I say all of this because I have that bug again recently. I just want to have a new adventure.

I started to feel that way last year, but I recognized that I just had a difficult task before me and did not run away. Now, it is different, though. I like what I am doing. I don't feel stressed out and I have a very pleasant life.

It is not that I want to abandon teaching altogether. Honestly, I've spent the last seven years of my life learning how to teach. It's just that I am in the same city, same district even, I went to elementary school in. I am grateful to them because they have taught me a lot, but I think it is time for something new. For the first time in my teaching career, I know that I have something to give as a teacher. I still have a lot to learn, but I know can do well enough to be an effective teacher. I have a desire to try this skill out somewhere else.

This idea has been growing in my head for a couple of months now, but I kind of want to teach overseas. I started thinking about teaching in China, Japan, or S. Korea when I was looking at the possibility of another rif. I am realizing, though, that I was kind of hoping all this would occur so that I could go teach overseas.

As a Christian, it is hard for me to know when my flawed nature is prompting me to always be wanting something different and when God is prompting me to go. I went to college hundreds of miles from home (in spite of my local scholarships) because I wanted a change. Yet, I know God worked in my life through that. How do I know now if I am just being fickle or if God really wants me to change courses?

This Song Made Me Think

One of my students stopped me as they were entering the classroom on Friday and told me that she needed to talk to me. After everyone else went in she says, "Something happened last night."

"What happened?" I asked.

"My stepdad got arrested and now I'm just paranoid."

"What do you mean you're paranoid?"

"I don't know, I just am."

We talked for a couple of minutes and then went in. She had a fine day, but I have a soft spot for kids having a hard time with their families. I experienced that.

It is times like when I wish I could talk about God in school. I used to pray before I was sure anyone was listening. I wish I could say, "Someone is always there." I have had so many situations where watered down, politically correct words don't seem like enough.

BFFs, Sexual Ethics, and Hell

Wow! I have a day off and look what happens. That's all I can say about the title of my post.

The fifth grade team of teachers I worked with for two years was the most experienced team at my school. I loved working with them because I learned so much and all of them were so mature that we didn't have a lot of unnecessary drama. As much as we all got along, we didn't get together that frequently outside of school. They were all in a different phase of life than me.



BFFs
I have decided to call my new team BFFs--not because I like them better than my old team but because we hang out together a lot more outside of work. We go to Happy Hour or someone's house. We all have facebook and we text each other. We all like nice clothes and makeup and cute hairstyles. One of my teammates is newly single. She is trying to get me to go on a date with this friend of hers. He's a pro-golfer and she thinks we would be perfect for each other.

Sexual Ethics
We have a lot in common on BFFs Team, but one thing that they don't understand yet is my identity as a Christian. I have said before that I live a rather monastic existence. I live that way because my worldview is securely theistic. They know I go to church and they know I believe in God. I'm not just a church on sunday occasionaly praying Christian, though. Everything I do is informed and motivated by my belief in and relationship with an active God.

I think it is easy not to really notice that I drink but don't get drunk. I think it is easy to attribute my insistence on treating people well to a personality trait (it's not true but it's plausible). It is easy to think my heart for others is part of my identity as a teacher. One thing they will notice are my radically different sexual ethics. I think you know what I mean without me saying it... I don't even know how to approach that either. I can go on a date with this guy, but I know it's not going anywhere because my worldview will clash with his idea of dating. As I get older, I understand so much more why I need to date someone with the same worldview.

Hell
The last part I hesitate even to bring up, but it is a hard line to walk when your good friends don't believe what you do. Of course, I worry about their salvation. Of course, I pray that all my friends who don't know God would know him (eternally and presently). Yet, it's not something we can really talk about. This culture says let everyone believe as they do and do not assume you know better. If salvation is faith based, how could I do that?

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

In church this morning, we sang the old hymn "Great Is Thy Faithfulness." My mom said something to me that has left me thinking all day long. She said that she loved that song because it was like a mile marker for her life. She could remember singing it from the time she was just a little girl, and it is as true for her today when she is almost fifty as it was then. God has always been there and he has always been faithful.

That song means the same thing to me.

Sometimes it seems like my life is really segmented.

I remember early life with my mom and dad and brother. We lived in Kansas and Texas and God knows where else. I remember cold weather and the newness of everything we all probably identify with early childhood.

I remember middle childhood where my family struggled to make it as a single parent family. I remember desert sun at this time in my life. I remember even then how it felt like a different life.

I remember my teenage years. We lived in a house consistently then. My grandparents were there as much as my mom. We had a lot more money because my grandparents helped support us.

I remember my college years--spent far away from the desert city. I remember snow and independence and excitement for the future. I remember good friends who were like family. I was at a Christian college. I learned a lot about God and maybe more about myself.

Now, here I am in early adulthood. I try to make it as a public school teacher. I work a lot and study and write. It is hard for me now, much more than when I was in college, to see the big picture. I guess you could say I can't see the forest for the trees.

Sometimes all the segments of my life seem really disconnected. When I sing "Great Is Thy Faithfulness," though, I remember the common thread for it all: The Lord is faithful.

In my early childhood, I prayed to someone I didn't know. He heard me. I know that now, and in some way I knew that then.

In my middle childhood, I prayed as some sort of insurance policy. He heard me anyway.

In my teenage years, I really came to see God's faithfulness in my life. I found joy in that.

In my college years, my recognition of God's faithfulness grew as did my relationship with Him.

In young adulthood, I've given a lot of myself to my work--work God led me to. All along, though, He's been faithful in reminding me what matters. I am just starting to see that now. I wouldn't have seen it without the struggles.

My story isn't really fragmented at all. It is what it has always been: the story of God's faithfulness.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPcTOWf9g7o