Poetry Class

Here is a sample from what I wrote in my "Writing Poetry" class:

The first one I actually adapted from a blog entry and it is a
Mary Oliver imitation. (of her style):

To My Student Sitting in the First Row:

If the future of America
rests upon you,
lets just say I’m worried;
you make me
believe people
can’t change
can’t soften
and for that I can
scarcely look at you.
I stand;
I tell you of beautiful things:
Martin Jr.’s Dream,
Frost’s less traveled road,
Harper’s defense of the weak,
but I feel your icy breath
stinging my words
drowning their meaning
as you mutter contradictions,
arguments, war.
You sit there
brooding, shoulders stiff
eyes cold, heart deaf,
mind impenetrable
like a fortress.
I am ashamed to admit
you move me somehow…
to restlessness
to anger
because when I go home,
I’ll think about you:
my loftiness broken,
doubts encircling,
mind wondering
if tomorrow
could bring
something different
something stronger
something renewed.

An English Teacher’s Hope

I show you poetry:
words of wonder, and wish
so that maybe you
will recognize beauty:
I read you Frost,
bringing you the birches,
where you can climb
“toward heaven til the tree
can bear no more.”
I read you Keats so you can be
“among the river sallows, borne aloft,”
“a close-bosom friend
of the maturing sun.”

I show you what is ugly
in the words and lines
so that maybe you
will need change:
I read you Langston,
so you can understand--
“I am the darker brother
they send me to eat in the kitchen,
But I laugh
And eat well
And grow strong.”
I read you Blake
so you can hear
“every cry of every Man,
In every Infants cry fear.”

I show you what love is
in the imagery and rhymes
so that maybe you
will believe in love:
I read you Elizabeth
so you can feel one who loves
“to depth and breadth and height”
one who “loves freely, purely.”
I read you Wilcox
so that maybe you
will remember, “love much.
Earth has enough bitter in it. No heart
so hard, but love at last may win it.
Love is the great primeaval cause of man.”

This next one is a Pantoum, which means
that specific lines have to repeated in very
specific places....

Your Love

Your love raises the sun anew.
I don’t ask, but you go with me,
for if we are together, happiness revives;
even a foreign place is home.

I don’t ask, but you go with me;
I am Naomi, and you, my Ruth.
Even a foreign place is home
where we survive, abide, provide.

I am Naomi, and you, my Ruth.
You follow me to joy or mourning
where we survive, abide, provide.
You, like a star, wane my darkness.

You follow me to joy or mourning,
for if we are together, happiness revives.
You, like a star, wane my darkness.
Your love raises the sun anew.

Thanksgiving 2009

Confession:

Thanksgiving usually passes by and I am not THAT thankful.

I am usually about as thankful on Thanksgiving as I have been
the rest of the year--which generally consists of an average dose
of gratutide and a lot of taking things for granted.

But this past year was different than most years. I did not plod
along like my usual happy-go-lucky, eternally optimistic self.

This past year was difficult..up until the end of this past summer.

But now, I can actually say that I am happy.

And yes--it is partially because I live in the beautiful city
of Chicago with some great friends/family. Not to mention
I have always been a little nerdy and love school...

but that is not really why.
I am thankful because I am different this year.

Last year and partially noted by some of my blog entires,
I went through some tumultuous decisions and events.

Looking back, I think I tried to listen to God,
and I had my moments, but in reality, I don't think I did it very well.

I was in consistent storms of the unknown, the hurtful,
and the lack of direction or true comfort--and to be honest,
I can't remember a lower spiritual time in my life.

I just didn't believe in God's goodness towards me at all times--
and I became overwhelmed with my belief
in His disappointment in me. And my circumstances surrounding
these thoughts only deepened the difficulty.
It's not that I didn't know, intellectually, about God's goodness.
I just couldn't seem to really believe it in my heart.

But instead of making it right, I chose to distance myself.
And then when I would cry out for comfort,
in only the truly heinous moments,
I felt God's silence.
And it made me angry.

I can still remember one night when I was alone
in my apartment, and I was praying in bed--sort of.
Before i knew it--it turned into anger, and I started
shouting (literally) at God and crying.

And He let me.
But I still felt His silence.

I am glad I am not in that place anymore,
but I can honestly say that I am glad I was in that place.

I think that it is so true that without darkness,
we cannot understand light.

I am thankful because after my searching and all that anger,
God STILL showed up in my life.
He spoke to me in powerful, clear ways
when the timing was right and when I was ready to listen.

He spoke to me in ways that I could never even explain in this blog.
He set me free from the burden of my brokenness.
He showered His love upon me at the time when I
"least deserved it."

And I know Him better now.
I understand His love more.
And I am more joyful for it.
And I think I can love others better because of it.

And thats why I am thankful this year...

"Not because of what I've done, but because of who You are."

Bryan: Voted Most Popular

So, out of complete boredom one night I went on the
most popular names website. Quite informative, really.
It gives you the top 1000 most popular names from
2000-2008.

So, family, here we are--in the order of coolness:

1. Bryan--rank: 82~you must be a classic. You have barely
decreased in popularity from 2000 (from 70), which is no
small feat, especially when you see some of the others.

2. Michelle--rank : 103. You are Bryan's fiercest competitor,
yet come up short. (this is not a joke about your height) :)
You, however, have decreased from 52, and are becoming
more uncool at a faster rate than Bryan. In the end though,
second place is more than respectable.

3. Corey--rank: 289. Not completely embarrassing--really quite
solid. However, you are depreciating in coolness
similarly to Michelle. But since you are younger, you
will be way less cool than her at her age. statistically
speaking, of course.

4. Arthur--rank: 386. This is the shocker!! I mean, seriously, has
anyone heard of someone naming their kid Arthur
recently? Because apparently, a lot of people are. :)
And "Tom" doesn't even make the list, sadly. But dad--
your name is surprisingly MUCH cooler than mine.

5. Kristin--rank: 883. Thats just embarrassing. My only defense is
that "Kristen" with an e still ranks at 492, but lets
be honest, thats still not even remotely cool. I also
was wayyyy cooler in 2000. (rank 301) yikes.

6. Terri---rank: unknown. Sadly, dear mother, you are off the
coolness chart, but I am sure you are....1001--
I am sure of it!

Poetry Woes

In my writing poetry class, I have written 9 poems
so far that have had to be turned in.

Of the nine poems, only one could be considered
light-hearted, happy, or humorous.

Another one could maybe be considered humorous,
but probably not light-hearted.

That means that 77.7% of my major poems
so far have been about....sad things.
sad situations, or people...
some personal, some fictional.

But seriously....I think I am beginning to understand
the stereotype of poets wearing all black.

And as far as my non-poem life goes....

I generally feel pretty great about it.

Justice

I can't sleep tonight.

It's one of those nights where thoughts whirl and twirl
in my head until I don't know where one thought
began how it ended up where it did.

Writing is my therapy for such nights.

And so, I will share with you the better thoughts.
The blog worthy thoughts, perhaps.

On Sunday, my pastor shared a sermon based on
I Peter 3: 8-11. There were a lot of good things
that he said, but the thing that stuck out to me the
most had to do with these verses:

"If you want to enjoy life,
an see many happy days,
keep your tongue from speaking evil
and your lips from tell lies
Turn away from evil and do good.
Search for peace and work to maintain it."

The pastor described justice to me as I have never
heard it before.

Justice means that every person has the right to
good days.

That is all. It seems so simple.

After all, what did I want today? I wanted it to be a good day.

What do I want for my family and my friends?
I want them to have good days.

And yet, somehow, I think that it is easy
to convince myself that maybe I deserve
good days--and maybe I deserve them
more than other people.

After all, maybe certain people
have done something to deserve bad days.
It is mostly a subconscious thought, but sometimes
even a conscious one.

The man on the street must have done
something to deserve where he is.

Maybe in the name of karma, or choice, or sin.

I don't think this is what Jesus thought.
I don't think thats what Jesus currently thinks.
I think Jesus was fiercely filled with love and compassion
for these people. And sadness at their brokenness.

Today, I ran along the path by Lake Michigan. It was beautiful.
It was breath-taking.

The sun was shining, and as the sun was going down, pink
and purple laced the skyline of Chicago.

It's was easy for me to look at the beautiful skyline and walk into
my pretty grad classroom and then my Lincoln Park apartment.

It's better, after all, than looking closely at the city--
looking at the poverty, the exploitation, the hatred and racism,
the domestic violence and substance abuse: in other words,
the bad days of people all around me.

My pastor went on the tell us that we are to bearers of peace:
"seek peace and work to maintain it."

We are the bringers of peace. Bringers of love--and truth--
and justice--the message of hope, not judgment into the world.

To the "least of these", especially, I think--
even though it is to everyone.

It's funny, though, because I know that I am
given peace from God, but a lot of times
I don't even feel it within myself.
So how do I give it to others?

But I still wonder,
who am I bringing peace to in this city? If I look at it
closely, who am I seeking peace for?

I am not sure that it is anyone just yet.

But I am praying about it.

Deep Unto Deep

I have been reading this book by Dana Cadler. (the title)
and it has pushed me further in some of the main things
I have been learning lately. She says,

"The Lord does not despise our weakness as we so often imagine.
He is not caught off-guard by our frailty...He knows it fully and
embraces us in this place as He beckons us to continually lift our
weak voice and our weak gaze in prayer and communion with Him."

I think it's funny that I try to hid my weakness from God,
many times through avoidance or self-righteousness,
because I think that He is disappointed in it--but let's be honest,
He knows my weakness fully and it does not change
how He loves me. And to my relief, it never could.

"He calls it victory when we willingly lift our voice to Him
from the wilderness of our barrenness. This He calls noble."

"On the days when every accusation lurks over my head
and all the voices of condemnation join forces against me,
my weak heart OVERCOMES Him as I chose to believe what
presently seems an absurdity--that God is for me and that
my prayer, though weak, is wisdom. These are the days He
holds precious.

"Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believed..." Jn, 20:29

I have come to the conclusion recently that because I have
been taught that I am nothing in comparison to God,
which is completely true, I have somehow interpreted this to mean
that I am such an inferior being that sometimes, or a lot times,
He looks at me with disappointment or maybe even anger.

But this is a lie.

Cadler states, "To know that each small choice matters and that
every tear holds significance with the heart of the Lamb of God
changes everything for us and enables us to give ourselves
unreservedly to the journey of our heart."

If I know that God's love is so deep--that He never looks upon
me with disappointment, that he sees blamelessness in me through
Christ, that He counts weakness in prayer as noble, and that often
what I think is barren or unfruitful prayer he counts as precious....
is so powerful.

She says that even in the moments that when we can't feel God
in prayer, when we do not feel Him close to us, when prayer
and communion with him is hard and not a deep desire, this
is her prayer:

"Write it down in our book, O God. Though it was so empty
and so dry, may it count in an eternal relevance I do not yet
comprehend. Write it down so that one day you might read to
me of its preciousness. Remember this day, though I know it
will blend into so many days just like it in my own memory.
Count it as valuable to the heart of God. And O God, give me
one grace, I pray. Give me the grace to give myself in prayer
once again tomorrow. To believe that it matters. To put my
heart before You though I feel so unproductive and unfruitful.
Give me the grace to spend tomorrow once more with You in love.
For I can think of no more noble way to spend a day than to
spend it with You, whether I feel your nearness or not. Give
me the grace for one more day.

To believe in God's love seems elementary to me, yet I realize
that I have not grasped it yet--and never will in entirety.
Yet beginning to grasp this truth more and more is giving
me such freedom! To believe in the goodness ahead of me,
to know that He is with me, rejoicing over me, and not
disappointed. To know that every feeling, tear,
prayer counts to Him, is valuable and precious to Him.

May I have the grace to believe the truth today and to live
a life of gratitude to the God who is overcome with love for
me--for us.

The Joy of Chicago

Things that have brought me joy thus far in Chicago:

One of the most breath-taking views is on my usual running
path--the city skyline on the right and Lake Michigan on my left.

My apartment is small, but more cozy and cute than cramped. :)

My roommate and I have come up with a motto if we are having
a bad day--in the words of Lady Gaga...
"Just Dance..It's going to be okay"
which we belt out as we dance around our apartment...
unashamed. ha.

There is a coffee shop on every corner.

I ponder how in the world people have Great Danes
and Labs as pets around here--
are they the ones living in the 3.4 million Brownstone?

Grad school is only a 5 minute walk away.

I live by some great friends and family members.

Part of my "job" as a student is to sit by the lake and write poetry.

There is always someone fascinating to walk by....

Downtown is oh so very close.

And right now, I have the time to talk it all in.

God is good.

Writing Poetry Class

My first week's poem: A Portrait Poem

The Pencil

His teenage giant stature somehow
fills the cubicle classroom where he sits.

Enthroned he silently commands his followers—
his classmates--with a simple smirk or a mouthed, foul word.

His eyes speak—I’m the King.
The King of influence. The King of cruelty.

His heart speaks of metal and jagged glass,
of pleas discarded; of Pharoah’s refusal.

The history teacher shouts of hope and change—
of equality, of Malcom X and Susan B

But his fingers say—you can’t teach me.
To believe or accept or sing praise

as his lined jaw faces the side window
and his pencil lays still on his desk.

East of Eden

East of Eden was the first book on my summer reading list.

It has been highly recommended to me by a few people--
not just one.

And as the former American Literature teacher--
this is a true American classic.

In short--it tells the story of human nature--
of evil and goodness.
And of the constant battle on earth between the two.

It says--

"All novels, all poetry,
are built upon the never-ending contest
in ourselves of good and evil.
And it occurs to me that evil must
constantly respawn,
while good, while virtue, is immortal."

East of Eden is symbolic of the story of Cain and Abel.

And what struck me more than anything in this book is it's
occasional pearl of wisdom, and even of Biblical truth.

Cain killed Abel. Everybody knows that.
He killed his own brother.
Who does that? Did Cain have no soul?

It always seemed that way to me.

After Cain displeased God with his gift
that was not the firstfruits,
God tells him something significant.
He tells him that he will be
accepted if he does what is right.

Some translations say that God tells Cain
not only that he will be accepted if he
does what is right, but also that

"thou shalt rule over him."

Or over sin--indicating that Cain
will have victory over sin.

A promise really. With no other options or choices.

Some translations say "Do thou rule over him."
This is a command from God and
not a promise.

This says RULE over sin, Cain.
Because God says so--just do it!

But in the end--Steinback discovers that
the Hebrew meaning is in the word timshel--which means...

Thou Mayest.

Cain--thou mayest rule over sin--
it is a choice.

And God--in this moment--speaks of what will come.
The constant battle between good and evil.
Because He gives us the chance to choose.

But Cain, Thou Mayest be free from sin.

Thou Mayest be close to God.

Thou Mayest please Him.

Thou Mayest find new life, free from guilt and shame.

And there, in the darkest of stories--
there is grace.

God does not condemn here, the "darkest of sins."

The "do you have a soul"? type sin. That we tend
to condemn.

And He does not condemn us, but allows us to live and
dwell in goodness and freedom.

And in these three words there is great hope.

Because...we always mayest....

Oh Fishy Fish

Bubbles II died today.

I let out a little AAHHH and jumped
when I saw Bubbles II
belly up
in her pretty little fish bowl.

I did not even kill her.

Maybe...she heard me talking about various plots to get rid of her.

Maybe...I didn't feed her enough, or I fed her too much.

Maybe...she just didn't LOVE living in a super cramped bowl by herself.

But needless to say--she is gone.

And I feel a little relieved--and perhaps a little heartless....

But mostly...relieved.

And I didn't even have to clean the bowl once!

Yesssss

Previously Stated:

122 papers.

36 essays.

18 portfolios.

80 different lessons.

67 examss...............
........................

DONE!!!!

Bubble Trouble

So.

Our first pet when we were kids was a goldfish named Bubbles.

It was the goldfish that would not die.

I got it for free at Meijer with a neighborhood friend.
My friend got six fish that all died by the next day.
Bubbles lived six years.
She was Superfish.

Actually, Bubbles could possibly still be alive...
if my mom wouldn't have killed her.

There was a rank smell in the kitchen and
she was convinced that the
culprit was the poor, helpless goldfish.

So, she told us that she would "set it free"
in the Creek in our backyard.

Later in life, I realized that "setting it free" was more like....

MURDER.

I told this story during my Advanced Composition
class while my Principal was observing me.

My Principal thought it was really funny.

So tonight--when I went to the end-of-the-year faculty party,
I received a wonderful gift.

30 dollars to Barnes and Noble!! AND.....

What?!?!

Yes, A GOLDFISH.

According to my principal,
(and this was the story she told the entire faculty)

my mom flushed Bubbles down the toilet and then
told us that it died of natural causes.

According to my principal,
I said I wanted another goldfish.

She was wrong in every aspect.

But I smiled, and acted surprised,
like any polite person would.

And now...I have this goldfish.
Staring at me.

And this so called "goldfish"...is not even gold.
It's brown!

And the truth is...

I DON'T WANT IT!!!

What am I supposed to do with this thing?

Can I take it back?

AAAHHHHHHH.

Any takers...for Bubbles II? :)

Oh my life makes me laugh.

Ah Sentiment

When I allow myself, I can be entirely sentimental.

But lately--I have attempted to be...callous and apathetic
about all the changes and difficulties.

I have tried to "let everything roll of my shoulder."

I have told myself that "I don't care."

I am forging ahead!

I am strong and impenetrable!

Ah, the lies I tell myself....

My world has been chaotic lately--
Bible studies, church softball,
soccer, a million papers to grade, lessons to plan,
friends and family,
books to read, errands to run, things to plan,
and the list....goes on.

I have thrown myself into a world where I can give myself
permission to be callous.

I haven't stopped lately to think.
I haven't allowed myself to be
emotional or sad or reflective.

I just live.

In the busiest way possible.
In the name of productivity and accomplishment.

Tonight--I read the names off for the seniors at graduation.
I was a little nervous, but as usual, once I got going--
it went fine.
And my nerves dissipated.

But tonight, as a I watched all these students I love walk by--
it was then that it hit me....

I am not coming back next year.
I am not going to be their teacher.
I am not going to get hugs or
take pictures with them at the end of the year.

And for the first time in awhile--I got sentimental.

I am going to miss it.

Who would have ever thought we would end up at the same prom?

Me=teacher/chaperone.

Little Brother=attendee.

Good thing we get along.

Because this could have been just...awkward. :)

Was It Worth It?

Yesterday, my mom's side of the family went to my
grandma and grandpa Klimp's house,
for a typically delicious meal and to celebrate Mother's Day.

After a little while of peace and serenity,
it was discovered that my two little cousins,
Jameson and Elena,
may have caused a little....mischief.

To the chagrin of my Aunt and Uncle,
Jameson and Elena thought it would be funny
to spread the entire contents of the paper shredder
on the den floor.

Picture a massive New Year's Eve party with bouts of confetti
waiting to be picked up.

The floor in the den....looked like...a hurricane of paper.
Something almost swimable.
(slight exaggeration perhaps.)

Uhh....Happy Mother's Day Grandma?
Do you see all the nice confetti
we dumped on the floor for you?

Oh boyy.

Ha--good thing my grandma has such a wonderful
sense of humor.

After this discovery,
Jameson and Elena were trapped in the den
until they cleaned up every last shred.

I said to them, "see ya in two hours" as a joke,
but I am pretty sure they were in there
for at least one full hour.

Near the end of it all--I walked it and asked them the fundamental life question,

So....was it worth it?

Was an hour of clean up worth it--
for the ULTIMATE confetti party?

Jameson practically SHOUTED:

NOOOOOOOOOOO.

Followed by Elena piping in:

noooooooo wayyyyyyyy.

Well....lesson learned.

I never really thought about this as the
fundamental life question, but I think that it is.

A lot of negative things in life happen,
but what makes it okay--what can even give us joy--
is if it's worth it.

My life questions:

Is all the paper grading worth teaching?
Yes.

Are the bad days of work worth it for the good days?
Yes.

Are the painful decisions I have made worth it?
Yes.

Is the cost of following Christ worth it?
Yes.

I feel blessed that God has brought me down paths
of difficulty, yet great reward.

Oh The Small Things

The boy in the fourth row, fourth seat back--spoke today.

Raised his hand...and spoke. In my Freshman English class.

This would not seem like a big deal--
but I have never heard him speak before.

In 13 weeks.

He has mumbled a few times, nodded his head, but never...spoken.

His eyes stare down at the floor from 10:50,
when class begins, until 11:40, when class ends...
every day.

I have barely been able to prod a word from him all semester.

Then today, I asked...
"does anyone know what an aristocrat is?"

And he RAISED his hand. Of course, I called on him,
in half shock and disbelief.

And he said...
"wealthy or noble people who are well-respected in society"
in an articulate and nonchalant way,
as if he answers questions like this all the time.

WHAT?!?! Where did this come from?

The other students jaws drop--completely astounded.
I hear them whispering...
"wow" and "I didn't even know that"
under their breaths.
One student even started to applaud him
because he was so surprised.

I know I didn't I have anything to do with this--but I am amazed.

It reminds me not to give up on people.

Small Victory.

Vulnerability

In high school, I did not take a single art class

because I thought it would bring down my GPA,
since I was kinda an academic perfectionist.

I was seriously terrified of exposing my inability
to be remotely artistic.

I still feel no differently about my artistic abilities--
I have just recently decided to care less if people
think my art is terrible....

This weekend--my friend, Rachael, got me a blank
canvas and paints for my birthday.

What?!

I don't do art
is what I thought.

But then I tried it--and figured it would be fun....

This is what I came up with--which it is quite abstract
because I know that trying to make anything overly concrete
would simply be ridiculous. And frustrating.

Simply titled: "Peace"

"Jesus got up and rebuked the wind and raging waters;
the storm subsided, and all was calm. "Where is your faith?"
He asked his disciples. In fear and amazement they asked
one another, "Who is this? He commands even the winds and
the water, and they obey Him."

--Luke 8:24-25

The painting itself...probably isn't the greatest...
but I tried!
And I just might have a new hobby. After all, it was therapuetic.

Yet, I wonder...
What in the world am I going to do with this thing?

I have absolutely no idea....

although there is a fireplace in my apartment I have never
used...mmm... :)

It was worth the fun though!

My Eternal Lesson

I am learning to

speak at God

less......

and

listen more.

Wow.

6 weeks.

122 papers.

36 essays.

18 portfolios.

80 different lessons.

67 exams.

IN SIX WEEKS.

Ah, the life of an English teacher.

To say the least, I feel a little overwhelmed...

But I am just trying to take it all in.

Remember it all.

Enjoy it all.

Because it will be...the last time.

For awhile.

And summer awaits.

And summer quickly approaches.

And I just don't want to miss this.

Aftermath

I am a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions lately.

A bizarre and unfamiliar mixture of
exuberance and sadness.

I made one of the most exciting decisions
I have made in awhile--I chose Chicago,

grad school, a new opportunity--

But in those moments of exuberance and clarity,
I forgot just for a moment that I was also choosing:

"Why are you leaving us, Ms. Scheffers?"

"Don't you like teaching here?"

And by far the worst...

"Don't you like us?"

And my heart....just...sinks.
And the pit in my stomach...awakens.

Because leaving this place has nothing to do
with whether or not I love these students--
because I wholeheartedly do.

And so...I explain myself--in the best way that
I know how.

And I hope they understand.
And I hope I have the patience.

Because I have a feeling that...
it's going to be this way for awhile...

Even though I have made some difficult choices
in the last few months
that have summoned a wide range of emotions,

And even in though I am experiencing
some pit-in-the-stomach days,

When I look ahead,
I am still filled with EXCITEMENT.

Ends and Beginnings

I told my dad the other day this might be my first "big life"
decision I would not cry over.

Because I am known for last-second-anguish tears.
I cried for two whole days before deciding to go to UofM.
I cried for three whole days when I got my first teaching job.

And I am really not much of the crying type--
though my brothers think I am destined to turn into one
because of my lovely, tends-to-cry-mother. :)

But in the end, I was right. I didn't cry.

Today, I walked into my principal's office and told her that
I am not coming back.

I am moving on.

And though I will carry bits of sadness with me--
because it will be hard to say good-bye to a job and people
I treasure--
because of the students I love and have to leave behind--
because of the colleagues I will miss--
who have been my support,
my source of kindness, my encouragement--

Yet, despite all these things, I did not cry.

Because I knew. I truly knew. And for the first time in awhile,
God has blessed me with absolute surety.

I can sense His love and presence surrounding me.
He is giving me the strength to believe
in the good that lies ahead,
in the goodness He has promised me.

And the funny thing is--for the first time...
of all my big decision moments--

I found myself oddly experiencing tears of

joy.

and not anguish.

I am overwhelmed by the
blessings in my life.

God has given me direction.

He has given me an open door--
to pursue my hopes, to begin a new adventure...

He has given me countless people to support me
and pray for me and love me, despite everything.

And so, today marks the end.

And the beginning.

And I may not know exactly where I will end up,
but I know I'm ready.

Chicago--Here I come....

unREAL

It's hard to believe the truth when common culture tells us
lies.

I have been thinking about this lately, ever since my tiny
six-year old cousin told me that she needed to lose weight.

WHERE did she learn this?!

But the answer is--it's everywhere.

Lose Weight. Lose 20 lbs in 2 weeks!

With this one...magical....diet pill.

She just knows. Girls are "supposed" to be skinny.
To have "true worth."

I have found that
it is easy to believe lies...whether consciously or
subconsciously.

"Beauty is about appearances.
Worth is about appearances."

"God is angry with me for doing that--He loved
me more yesterday when I was "more Christian."

"I am underserving of good things. I am not that
worthwhile."

"God only sees my sin--and is disgusted."

"I am not doing anything significant in this world."

"I can't...or I shouldn't....be forgiven for this..."

"I deserve to feel constantly guilty about this..."

"I will never overcome this"

"God will never answer this prayer anyway"

And so on.

I think it is one of Satan's great weapons to
tear us down--
to make us feel powerless with the God
of all power living in us--
to make us feel like we can't make
a significant difference--

because if we truly believe
that we can't--

we won't.

We allow ourselves to be defined by wordly things--
by human words, failures, successes, compliments,
criticisms....and it's empty.

From Ephesians 1:

Even before He made the world, God loved us and chose
us in Christ to be holy and without fault in His eyes.
God decided in advance to adopt us into His own family
by bringing us to Himself through Jesus Christ.

This is what He wanted to do, and it gave Him great pleasure...
He has showered His kindness on us, along with all
wisdom and understanding.

Ephesians 2:

For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in
Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things He planned for
us long ago."

Thats truth.

And I wonder....

How would the world be different if we viewed
ourselves in the way that God views us?

Thirty?!

Many twenty-somethings fear thirty.

Thirty seems to be the age when you are supposed
to have your life figured out--be settled.

Be mature. Be a respectable contributor
to society.

My little cousin Jameson told me today,
when I told him that I would still eat Mac and Cheese
out of the box,

"Kristin--thats because your not thirty yet.
Only people who are under thirty still like
Mac and Cheese."

And I...laughed.

Somehow, he changed the definition of "adult"
to thirty. Defined by....Kraft Mac and Cheese.

But upon thinking about this--as I am about to
turn twenty-four, which is by no means old
and I am not going to claim that it is--

Is my life where I thought it would be?

The answer is....
no.

I think that at twenty-four, I believed I would
have my life figured out.

It would all make sense.

I would be an adult. I would have clarity.
I would be on the beautiful path of success,
future plans, and definitive answers.

I would be on the straight and narrow.

I think its funny that my students think that
high school is where the drama ends--that
life somehow becomes this adultish certainty
with mature, grown-up emotions and simplicities.

Characterized by wisdom and knowledge and direction.
I think its funny that I ever believed that.

Because well...I am almost twenty-four.

And the reality is....
I can't picture my life beyond the next two days.

And some days...I find this exasperating.
Confusing. Annoying. Irritating. Disconcerting.

But today, I find it exhilarating.

There are so many possibilities.
So many directions.
So many opportunities.

And maybe its okay that I don't have it figured out.

Maybe I never will.

And maybe it gives God a chance

to move me.

Florida Reflections

There is something about the sunshine,
the deep blue waves
crashing on the shore,
the white caps foaming,
the orange and purple sunset,
the white, fine sand seeping into my toes,
the perfectly beautiful shells,
the mystery and magic of the ocean deep

that make me wonder how people can believe

God does not exist.

Oh Suitcase

You are so small!

I can never seem to fit enough into your black,
sleek exterior that looks like everyone else's suitcase
when the luggage wheels around in circles at the airport.

And as I stare at you--tonight--all I can think is--
mm...do you think I will need a sweater in Florida?

If I don't put a sweater into you, suitcase, am I going to
regret it?

Are three pairs of flip flops enough for one week?
Maybe if I smash these clothes down a little more I can fit

one more pair.

I have never been that great at packing.

But I am going to Florida.

Beautiful Florida.

And I am not bringing a red pen, a student's paper,

a whiny voice, a list of things-to-do or

or a single worry with me.

Oh Michigan, "How I Love Thee, Let Me Count The Ways"

So--the federal government is giving me
a good sized tax return--which thanks to Turbo
tax, I immediately found out how much I am getting back,

giving me enough time to consider what
foolish purchase I should make.

To stimulate the economy, of course. Quite patriotic, really.
foolish purchases. Ha.

Okay, so in reality, I will think about making a foolish purchase.
But will end up saving it.
Thanks to the saving, responsible values
my parents instilled in me.
Yay Dutchness. :)

But I had to laugh.
I filled out my federal taxes--and then
got all excited about my tax return.

Then came Michigan taxes.
mmm....

I get done filing my Michigan taxes and find out
that I owe Michigan...

one dollar.

yes. one measly dollar.
that I must MAIL in. With a check--no cash.

HA.

I mean, seriously now.
Really?

Oh, yes. Really.

Which of course makes me wonder--what would
they do to me if I just didn't pay it?
It seems too small for them to waste their time
tracking me down for one dollar.

I feel slightly annoyed with the whole state of Michigan today.
In a--this is sorta funny but SORTA ridiculous way.

But I will PAY THE ONE DOLLAR.
I will BE A GOOD CITIZEN.

Because....apparently,

"every penny counts"?

How Delightful

Today, I walked out of my apartment and "my" car was
just sitting there. Waiting for me. And I drove to work.
On time.

So Simple.

Yet, so beautiful.

"Dude, Where's My Car?"

There is nothing like a beautiful spring Tuesday morning.

This morning--I walked outside a bit on the late side,
around 7:20 am....
ready to go to work.

Today started about the same as every other day--
I pressed snooze one too many times.

I changed what I was wearing twice--because in the end,
I always choose comfort over style.

I couldn't find the right shoes--I almost forgot my lunch--
and I had to go back once I got half way to my car
because I realized I left my straightner on....

But finally, I made it outside ready to leave--
Carrying two bags, a coffee mug, and a purse.

So, with a very small amount of gracefulness,
I start to make my way towards my car.

Then, all of the sudden--I look around me and think...

mmm....that's funny......

where is my car? I thought I parked it right.....here.......
Which was quickly followed by the thought:
am I seriously losing it?!
maybe I need to start getting more sleep....

As I awkwardly walk around the parking lot with my two bags,
a coffee mug, and a purse.....looking terribly lost.....I still do not see my car.

Odd.

Exasperating.

Confusing.

What in the world?!?

Then....it hits me like a ton of bricks.

"My car" is actually Corey's car, which I am borrowing
while my car is getting fixed.

Corey's car doesn't have an apartment sticker on it.....
And I realize....

It had to be: I got towed!

mmm........
How am I going to get to work....?!

After a few phone calls, it is confirmed.
They towed my car for the small price
of being late for work and
128 dollars in exact change...cash.

I called today my bitter day--because I feel a little bitter.
Considering that this "car of mine" lived
at my apartment complex for a total of 8 hours or so.
And it just so happened that in those 8 hours,
the "random" search for unstickered cars
by the towing company happened.

And there was no possible way
I could have informed my apartment
office that I would have a different car--
since by the time I knew,
the office was closed.

But on the upside--at least I have a loving mother that came
and picked me up for work in her very attractive gold mini-van.

And at least it wasn't stolen? Because let's be honest, everyone
wants a 97 Old Cutlass.....right, Cor?

Ecclesiates 11: 5, 9-10

God brought me to these verses tonight,
as a lie awake unable to sleep.
My sleeplessness MAY have something to do with the fact
that I took a nap at 6: 30 and then drank coffee at 7:30.
Oops....

"Just as you cannot understand the the path of the wind
or the mystery of a tiny baby growing in its mother's womb,
so you cannot understand the activity of God,
who does all things....

Young people, it's wonderful to be young!
Enjoy every moment of it.
Do everything you want to do; take it all in.
But remember you must give an account before God
for everything you do.
So refuse to worry,
and keep your body healthy....
Don't let the excitement of youth cause you
to forget your Creator."

For some reason, I was astounded by these verses tonight.
So, I am going to read Ecclesiastes 10-12 all week...
because I believe that God is going to speak to me through them
in a powerful way.

I might let you know how that goes for me. :)

Well...anyways--Here's to another attempt at sleeping....

Attitude Adjustment Room? What?!

In high school, my basketball team always made fun of
one of the schools in the KVA (our conference) for having
a sign over one of their rooms that said

"Attitude Adjustment Room."

We always thought it was such a joke. And wondered in
what circumstances students were actually sent there.

This summer, I almost bought a wooden paddle in a
beach shop that said "Attitude Adjuster" on it because
I thought it would be funny to put on my desk.
(as a joke, of course....) :)

And even though these things are funny, I realized today
that maybe there is something of value with these ideas.

This morning, my pastor talked about the difference
between joy and happiness.

Joy comes for a source. (like God)
whereas happiness is dependent upon earthly cirumstances.

He spoke of the mornings when we wake up, and find
ourselves wanting to go back to bed.
Because the day seems like too much to handle:
whether its work. school. stress. difficult relationships.
difficult conversations or decisions, etc.

So, we gripe. we whine. we become crabby.
And all the sudden...our world becomes about us.
Without even realizing it.

We say, "I am sad. I am worried. I don't want to face the day,
so I have the right to be crabby and difficult.
maybe even angry or rude."

The point that stood out to me today is when he said that
this attitude makes us inherently selfish--ME ME ME....

When I look at my life as overwhelming,
as sorrowful or burdensome, I allow myself
to live with an attitude that damages my
relationships or the people around me.

I take it out on people. I excuse myself from
doing the good I am intended to do
because of the way I feel that day.

I miss opporunites to help my students, to love
my friends and family, to seek God's will, to
bring joy to the lives of others.

My life has not really been as "circumstancially happy"
as usual lately. There have been many good circumstances,
but it has been harder than usual.

There have been days when I have woken up sorrowful,
and I have focused on my own issues and difficulties
throughout my entire day.

I have allowed my "issues" to be big in my life.
Because I have often focused on the issue.
And not on Christ.

The truth is, my issues are small in comparison to what
others have been through or are going through,
which doesn't make them any less legitimate,
but it does put things in perspective.

And though God allows us to feel sorrowful--to even be
angry and hurt for periods of time--He calls us to joy.

He calls us to perseverance. To an attitude adjustment.
To concentrate on His goodness and love.
To live in freedom and truth.

Because when I can't do that, I know I live selfishly.
I only care about my own heartaches, my own issues.
And I lose sight of all the blessings.

I asked God to put five people on my heart this week.
Five people that I am going to work at encouraging and loving.

So I stop focusing on myself.
And the "stuff" that has permeated my thoughts.
Because the the truth is, those things will work out without
me obssessing over them.

My pastor left us with this acronym:

JOY

Jesus
Others
Yourself....dead last.

I want to live like that.

Tap...Tap...Tap....(AAAAHH)

I am not overly afraid of much--not of the dark,
not of rollercoasters, of getting dirty, or getting
knocked down in an athletic game.

After all, my brothers would have never let me
get away with that.

But there is one thing...specifically...that turns me into this
girly, screeching, oh-no, AAAAHHH stressed out!! person.

And that thing is...critters.

Last year, I had mice living in my apartment. I didn't
eat breakfast for a straight week because I would hear
the sounds of mice crawling and I just couldn't bear to
go in the kitchen and see one. I didn't even hardly turn
on a light in the morning.

When I looked at the mouse traps, I had to take a deep breath
each and every time because I was engrossed in fear.

Then today, all the sudden I hear.....

Tap tap tap TAP TAP........tap.
sounding uncomfortably....close.

I look outside, and right on my porch ceilingish is this
big hole with a mystery
ENORMOUS CRITTER chewing at the wood.
(okay, its probably not THAT enormous, but in my mind it is...)

The first things I think--besides OH NO--is, mmm....
can that critter chew through the wall--the wall that
is right by my bed?

My dad does a great job of calming my fears by saying
that the critter CAN chew through the wall if it can chew
through wood. Thanks dad. :)

And so, here I am. Significantly more uneasy than I was five
minutes before. Trying to think of anything but the critter,
and somehow thinking of NOTHING else but the critter.

All I think about is my greatest fear--waking up with a
CRITTER in my bed!!!

And the conclusion I came to is...

It's official--I am a critter pansy.

All This Beauty

In American Literature, we read the short story called
"Dr. Heidegger's Experiment" by Nathaniel Hawthorne.

To summarize, it basically tells the story of Dr. Heidegger,
a man who finds the fountain of youth and has his four old
friends drink from it--becoming young again.

Upon drinking the water, the four old friends immediately
fall back into youthful foolishness and sin.

They do not carry their "wisdom" gained from age
and they repeat past mistakes from their youth.

When they spill the water from the fountain of youth and
return to their old age, they are all left discontented.
They will do anything to be young again.

They spend the rest of their lives in search of the
fountain of youth-- which they never find.
Their lives end up much worse at the end
than they were at the beginning.

This story displays youth in a very stereotypical way:
foolish. rash. sinful. seeking immediate gratification.
without logic. without reason. without wisdom.

After all, there is beauty is what these characters lack.
There is beauty in logic. in reason. in practicality.
in delayed gratification. in "thinking things through."

But even in the midst of their faults,
I realized that there is also beauty within these faults.
in "foolish" mistakes, in the unknown, in the adventure,
in risks, in youthful confidence and hope,
which these characters did not lack.

If I have learned anything from my faith in God,
it is that the logical or simple answer is
not always the right one.

The logical, comfortable answer does not always
require much faith.
Does not require as much dependence upon God.
Because it allows us to rest in
wordly circumstance and earthly security.

If I believe in the All-powerful God, the Almighty, the Creator,
the Great Healer and Miracle worker, why do I always search
for the simple, logical, practical answer? Why do I always
insist upon limiting God's influence in my life?

Why do I always doubt His ability to perform wonders beyond
my imagination or understanding?

My logic is nothing compared to His. My thoughts are completely
inferior to His. My plans pale in comparison to His.
He is incomprehensible.

And yet, I consistently try to comprehend everything that He is.
And everything He is doing.

I fear any answer that He gives me that does make
complete sense at the time, especially when the answer
seems to bring more questions.

There is beauty in foolishness. In trust. In leaps.
In listening to His voice over our desire to understand everything.
In following His guidance despite the doubtful worries.

After all, Jesus said that we must become like children.
Have a child-like faith.
And let's be honest, children are a little foolish.

And a little wonderful.

Farch.

Yes, Farch.

The dreary months of February and March
put together makes.....Farch.

I think that reason why the word "Farch" works so well
is because it is such an ugly, gross word.

And it symbolizes the most unpretty, cold and muddy, the snow-
is-no-longer-white months in the Midwest.

Farch is lovingly discussed amongst my colleagues
as the most dreaded time of the year.

The time when everyone is sick of snow.
Yet, the snow keeps falling.

The time when the cold and dark weather undoubtedly
penetrates our joy and general feelings of hope.
To be dramatic. :)

Farch made me cancel my lunch plans with one of my
best friends today because there was a 50 car pile up
between Battle Creek and Jackson.

I am on my 23rd Farch.
And still a little bitter.

Does it get any better?

Why do we chose to live here?
mmmm.....

No, seriously...why?

But the Root Beer stand opened this week.
And somehow that gives me hope for spring.
So, I am just trying to hang in there through
the rest of Farch....and then Apray (April and May)
just might be great... !!

Oh My

Dear Woman working out on the
Elliptical machine next to me
talking WAY too loud on her cell phone
for an entire hour.....

Are you serious?!?!

Faith

"Is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what
we cannot see." Hebrews 11: 1

This lovely verse that I have heard a million times looked
at me this morning because it is plastered on the coffee cup
I am currently sipping from.

Such a simple verse. Right?

16 words. Thats all.
Should be...fairly simple to comprehend.

But as I think about this verse, I am amazed by how often
I don't have any faith.

I believe in a God miracle only when its 100% obvious that it
just "couldn't have been a coincidence."
And even then, I often have moments of doubt.

I believe more in the incredible things that people do--
I am amazed by David Copperfield's ability
to make the Statue of Liberty disappear,
or Michael Phelp's ability to win eight gold medals,
or Martin Luther King Jr.'s courage and sacrifice.
These are all things I can see. They do not require faith.
Just eyes. Or ears.

Then, this verse calls us to be certain of what we hope for.

The truth is, this is hard.
Should I be certain of everything I hope for?
Because God knows that I have experienced
dashed hopes, despair, and things turning out
"much different than I had hoped."

The time relationships or friendships ended,
the times I lost a big game, the times I prayed persistently
and it just didn't seem to change anything.

But then, I looked at my concordance in my Bible and found

when the word hope is actually used:

Hope in Him (even Job maintained hope)
In God alone, my hope is from Him...Psalms...
I have put my hope in Your word...Psalms
Who put their hope in His unfailing love....
Hope in heaven....Proverbs
May the God of hope fill you....Romans
Hope in the Spirit....Romans
Resting on the hope of eternal life....Timothy

It never says a single thing about hoping in people,
in circumstances, in the world, in dreams of success.

Maybe this is why being "the God of hope"
doesn't seem so powerful to me. Because my hopes often refer
to wordly hopes, not godly hopes, that have been cast aside
or left me with a feeling of disappointment.

Bluntly put, I hope...in the wrong things. I claim that I don't hope
in the wrong things, but subconsciously, or consciously, I do.

And hoping in the wrong things
has taught me to be uncertain of hope.
Uncertain of God's goodness and provision.
Believing that He will hold out on me or that
He wants to deny me happiness or blessings.

But in reality, these verses say that
God is the God of hope because He gives us hope

Despite wordly disappointments.
Despite circumstances.
Despite evil and godlessness.

He is the only source of actual hope is this world.

He has promised us continued hope and contentment,
peace and joy, if only we rest in Him.

I know that He surrounds me with his love and goodness
each and every moment.
I just choose not to see it.

Today, I feel a renewed sense that
Every good thing on earth comes from the God:
All love, healing, laughter, beauty, and joy.

And even when our circumstances aren't easy,
we may have confident hope in Jesus.

Thoughts of the Day

I have really good friends.

Teaching really makes me laugh some days.

I am confused by the fact that my freshmen might
actually be enjoying Romeo and Juliet. (maybe its the
sword fighting...)

I have a lot of colleagues that really look out for me
and care.

I need to start packing something else besides Lean
Cuisines in my lunch.....yeah.

Lately, I have not even attempted to limit the limitless
coffee that I drink. YIKES.

I have actually been sleeping more lately,
which is so great.

I have not been lost since I got my GPS system for
Christmas! (thanks grandma)

I really wish I could play an instrumet. Corey's guitar
skills make me jealous. And Michelle's piano AND singing skills.
Oh, and Bryan's tuba skills. ha.

I am really excited that I get to see one of my best friends
this weekend.

I like teaching high school, but I am consistently glad that
I am not in high school.

Did I seriously care this much about Homecoming when I was
in high school?
Yes, I think I did.
And I am a little bit ashamed.

I really wish it would be spring!

Senioritis is an excuse I am already sick of hearing.
(In the first 3 weeks of the semester...)

All of my students in Freshman English thought that Shakespeare's
use of the word "ho" meant something....well, different...
and it got a little out of control for a second.

I never thought of teaching the difference between those
words when we studied homophones 2 weeks ago.....

What makes almost all students hate poetry?
When do they learn that?
So sad...

I really hate the word "moist."

I kinda like teaching grammar...which is a new development.

I am so glad its the weekend!

Sadly, this blog post might
be a somewhat accurate representation
of my thoughts. :)

The Hill

But somehow, I am always brought back
to moments like these:

Psalm 121:

I lift up my eyes to the hills—
where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip
he who watches over you will not slumber;

indeed, he who watches over Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD watches over you—
the LORD is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day,
nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all harm—
he will watch over your life;

the LORD will watch over your coming and going
both now and forevermore.

I realized that geographically there cannot be a valley
without a hill.

It is impossible.

Praise God.

"For our light and momentary troubles are acheiving
for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.
So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but is
unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is
unseen is eternal."
--2 Corinthians 4: 17-18

And I know that He is preparing me for something
with eternal significance, something greater.

And somehow, amidst the darkness, I trust Him.

Moments of Clarity

I went back to Ann Arbor this past weekend to visit some of my
best friends from college.

I think I have the wisest friends in the world.
They helped me see.

They are some of the people God put in my life to help me see
when I cannot.

Many days, I feel unsure.
Trying.
Waiting.

But God always gives me moments of clarity
amidst confusion and angst
when I need it the most.

Often, the moment of clarity does not make my life
easier
but harder.
Requiring more faith. more belief. more courage.

I can't question God's will.
I can't continue in the same path
of indecision and inaction.
I can't avoid His calling.

Because I know.

But then again,
there is so much relief in knowing.

In moments of clarity.

"Sometime the Hardest Thing
and the Right Thing are the Same"
--The Fray

Thursday

I woke up and spilled almost an entire carton
on orange juice on the kitchen floor/rug.

I left for work, almost got on the highway, and realized that
I forgot my bag (the only thing I needed to remember)
and had to go back.

First hour, I said,
"Don't I sound really high?"
to my Advanced Composition class,
attempting to refer to the fact that I have a cold.

Surprisingly enough, they did not take it that way. (outburst of laughter...)

The night janior recycled my student's
American Lit projects by mistake.
They were supposed to present them that day.
I had not graded them yet.
And I didn't realize it until they all starting asking,

"Ms. Scheffers, where are our projects?"

"Uhhhh.....Well.....Mhmm....
Aren't they over there?"

Oh boy.

This all happened before 11 am.

"Just another day in paradise."

To Family

To My Dad, I give the soft-hearted award. You display your love to others in a very genuine way. Through your hugs, your kind words, your encouragment, your service to each of us. In a way that makes me believe in unconditional love. In a way that reflects Jesus. I know your guidance and encouragement has given me the confidence and strength to pursue so many of my hopes and goals. You have been an example for me about what a godly man should look like--and I am forever shaped by that.

To My Mom, I give the caring award. I don't think anyone has ever cared so much about every part of my life. You care about everything, from worrying about me getting my nice shoes wet to caring about how I am growing in my relationship with God. You have always been there for me, in a million ways that I am aware of and in a million ways that I don't know about or don't remember. But you give me a reason to feel gratitude towards God daily.

To Bryan, I give the loving protector award. You have always protected me--with boys, with friends, with choices I have made, with life situations. You are one I have always counted on to tell me the truth. I have endless respect for you and your relationship with God, which is evident in everything you do. You have always had whats best for me at heart and your thoughtfulness and consideration is a constant blessing to me. And even though you were always older and cooler than me, :) you always let me into your life. I am forever grateful for that.

To Corey, I give the fun-loving award. You are carefree and joyful. Probably the most laid back person I know. In a way that really makes me laugh. You bring humor to the family, while still being thoughtful and loving. You have been the benefactor of much doting upon--because you are so loved by each of us. And you're "the baby." You are mature beyond your years--maybe because you had to be being the youngest, but your depth as a person through your fun-loving attitude has consistently added so much to my life.

To Michelle, I give the "wise beyond your years" award. I have been so blessed by your thoughts, advice, and faith in God. Even though I have only known you for short time, you are one of the first people I think of when I need to process something going on in my life. You always offer me perspective and laughter. It seems as if you have been a part of my life, and my family's life, for years. (in a good way!) Plus you make my brother happy, and for that, I cannot love you more. :)

To My Family and Because I Don't Say It Enough,

Thank-you.

New Beginnings

Tomorrow, I begin a new semester of teaching.
For some teachers, this is not a big change.
But for me, it is.

I get all new students. All new classes.
A completely different schedule.

I am teaching two classes that I was not teaching last semester.

And depite being a veteran, second year teacher, :)
I always get a little nervous when the new faces come into my
classroom for the first time.

I always wonder, who are they, really?
For many of them, all I know is their name
on the first day.

For some of them, I will never know them much more
than that. They will walk into my classroom,
silently.
And leave, silently.
I will just be another person
passing by in their lives for a moment
they won't remember five years from now.

For some of them, I will know them quite well when they leave.
I will know their struggles, their hobbies, their hearts, and
their passions.
I will keep in contact with them in the future.
I will help them make decisions
or work through circumstances and doubts.

I have realized that both situations are okay.
And one may not even be better than the other.

As I leave behind the struggles of last semester,
and the students I couldn't agree with
or had to work at to love,
I feel a mixture of emotions.

As I leave behind joys of getting to know once strangers,
of getting to be a positive part of some of their lives
for a moment,
I feel bittersweet.

This semester will offer challenges, just like last,
but they will be different challenges.

This semester will offer joy, just like last,
but they will be new joys.

It is refreshing to leave behind my mistakes,
disheartening to leave behind accomplishments,
challenging to leave behind comfort,
and impossible to understand what lies ahead.

Change.
Is always a little bit scary.
And a little bit exciting.

But I rejoice in new beginnings.
In new chances
In new opportunities.

After all, God is a God of new beginnings.
Of second chances.
Of forgiveness and grace.

Except for He offers us a new beginning
each day.

And not just once or twice a year.

I hope I can be a person that offers
new beginnings to others.
I hope I can refrain from judging a student or any person
based upon a past mistake.
I hope I can be a person that forgives and offers second chances,
both to others and to myself.

But most of all, I hope I believe wholeheartedly that God can bring
new beginnings into situations that seem dire, hopeless,
and unchangeable.

Choices

I have never been good at making choices.

I picked out my first American Girl doll, Samantha, only after my cousin Leslie picked her first.
The second one, Addy, was exactly the same situation.

I ended up going to the University of Michigan
because I prayerfully picked it out of a hat
after I cried in indecision 6 days before the deadline.

I think I may be the only person that
cried for two days after getting offered
my first teaching job.

Last year, after I signed my teaching contract,
I walked half way to the office to turn it in,
only to turn around and walk back into my room.
Then I turned it in a half hour later.

Looking back, I don't think I regret a single "big" choice I have made.
Yet, at the time, I fear the possibility of regret, of walking out of God's will.

I always wish that I could be 100% sure of a choice I make.
In reality, I think I have only ever been 73% sure of any choice.

Robert Frost's poem says it well in "The Road Not Taken":

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth.

This is how I often feel. Two roads appear in front of me,
and I know I have to choose.

I strain my neck to see what the future holds
with one decision or the other,
but I can't see.

I can't see the future. I can't see what the future holds
for any particular earthly choice.
But I want to.

desperately.

So I pray.
And I hope. And I struggle.
And I do what I think God wants for me, and I believe that
He has what is best.
And He often tells me in a whisper when I want him to
tell me in a blaze of fire or roaring thunder.

And I know that all I can do is pray and struggle with Him,
knowing that He will guide my footsteps.

I have been listening to Brandon Heath a lot lately,
and I am moved by these lyrics in his song, "Trust You":

It's never easy changing direction.
It's so unnatural to loosen up my grip.
Are You growing weary of my good intentions?
But I know that You don't work that way.

I'm not gonna fight You anymore.
I'm not gonna try to lock the door.
I needed life, You gave me Yours.
You took Your life and gave me Yours.
There's no reason why
I shouldn't trust You with mine.

I realize that trusting Him with my life is a daily decision.
Because I daily doubt His goodness and provision for me.

But when I think about it, He has guided me in every decision
and every moment so far,
and I know that I can trust Him for tomorrow.
Even when I can't see it.

Hmmm.....

So, on Sunday, the pastor gave a sermon about marriage.

He said that on average, females speak 25,000 words a day.

Guess how many words men, on average, speak a day?

(if you were there, you are NOT allowed to guess)

Thats called....

cheating.

And I am teacher, so I know.

Answer to come later.

Green Coffee Pants

Ode To Last Week:

At 7:16 a.m., wednesday morning, I left for work in a typical outfit
of khakis and a sweater.

Feeling pretty good about life.

At 8:30 a.m., wednesday morning, I look
at my once clean
khaki pants and see a disturbingly potent, green substance
in a huge blob on my right thigh.

As a look closer, I also see streaks of this
mysterious green substance....on my shin pant leg.

Yes, streaks of it.

As I go to the bathroom to frantically
scrub off the mystery stain before my class,
I realize that it is no use.

I now...look green, and very very...
wet.

Every class the whole day started with, "Ms. Scheffers, why is there green stuff all over your pants"? To which I laughed and said, "Today...is just one of those days."

Yet it is a petrifying thought that I have no clue how the violently green substance appeared. And I wonder, how is this possible that one does not notice getting a ridiculous amount of green substance on one's pants?

Therefore, I am convinced that it will come back one day.
In all its green fury.

Saturday, 11:45 a.m. I am at a breakfast place
called Colonial Kitchen,
sipping my coffee.

As one cup is finished,
I go to pour another out of the wonderful pot that the waitress
has left on our table.

As I begin to pour, nothing comes out.

I tilt the pot back a bit more, but
still...nothing comes out.

So....I tilt the pot back just a wee bit more.

And what do you know?

The WHOLE pot comes out.
On my lap.
On the table.
On the floor.
But mostly on my lap.
The whole pot.

Luckily, it does not scald me
or soak my new, white sweatshirt.

Unluckily, my pants are soaked,
the whole restaurant seems to be laughing,
and the women's bathroom is predictably,
OUT OF ORDER.

But then, I thought a deep thought.

This week...is a dangerous week....
to be my pants.

Snowbound

So all night long the storm roared on:
The morning broke without a sun;
In tiny spherule traced with lines Of Nature's geometric signs,
And, when the second morning shone,
We looked upon a world unknown,
On nothing we could call our own.
Around the glistening wonder bent
The blue walls of the firmament,
No cloud above, no earth below, --
A universe of sky and snow!
--John Greenleaf Whittier

The snow has been ABOUNDING lately.
It's pretty, in an oh-now-I-have to-brush-my
car-for-the-tenth-time-today-kinda-way.
But still pretty.

Above is an excerpt from Whittier's poem,
"Snowbound." Rumor has it that English
teachers have the power to bring about a snow
day just by reading this poem.
So I read it, to myself, in hope.
It may not be as effective as reading it in class,
but I could REALLY use a grading day tomorrow.
Immensely.

So I figured...
what is there to lose?

I might read it again before I go to bed.
Shamelessly.

My Mom Thinks I Need Therapy

So...apparently my last post made my mom think I am suffering immensely,
alone, in turmoil, and perhaps in need of therapy. (slight exaggeration)

In order to clarify, I am not any of the aforementioned things.

I am, indeed, quite happy.

If this didn't come across well, which apparently it did not,
I meant that I find myself unaccepting of small "storms"
when Paul and Job were accepting of tumultuous "storms."

And I was pondering whether or not I had the faith to handle
such a storm. Because when I think about Paul and Job, they
make my faith feel small in comparison.

That is really all.

Mom--I love you and thanks for your concern. :)

(ps. My mom was sitting next to me while I was writing this post,
and we were laughing)

Shelter from the Storm?

I think that only when I am hurt,
and deeply hurt,
do I learn what it means to forgive.

I believe that only when I am sorrowful
do I understand God's joy in my life
as not dependent upon
my own family, possessions, circumstances,
or feelings of self-sufficiency.

I know that only when I feel alone
do I recognize God as my true and
only source of life.

I realize that only when I suffer
do I really see those who suffer.

I understand that only when
I recognize my own sin
do I look upon the disgressions of others
with compassion and love
instead of judgment.

If I am more like Christ
when I feel alone and humbled,

If I draw into His presence the most
when I am sorrowful, burdened, and hurt,

why do I always pray for happiness, security, and escape from difficulty?
Why do I always pray for ease, simplicity, and assurance?

Because my meager faith doesn't want the storm.

Paul, in Philippians 1: 14, wanted and accepted the storm when he said,

"Because of my chains, most of the brothers in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly."

He rejoiced in his chains--in being in prison, in being beaten and persecuted. He believed that it was for the best. It furthered Christ, and to him, "To Live is Christ and to die is gain."

I wonder if I could weather the storm like Paul or maybe even Job.
I wonder if I could have that kind of faith.

But the truth is, when I think about this,
my faith feels miniscule.

I have trouble accepting storms
significantly less great than Paul's
or Job's storms.

I have trouble accepting anything less than pure joy,
tranquility, and infinite understanding.

But He says that faith as small as a mustard seed can
move mountains.

I hope my faith can compare to a mustard seed.

I want to move mountains.

Wait...What Did You Say?!

I got Emu boots for Christmas.

These Emu boots bring me so much joy
in the bleak winter because anyone that knows
me well knows that I loathe being cold.

These less expensive, not UGG boots
(although similar) are black, from Australia,
and filled with fur that keep my feet
oh-so-warm-and-happy.

However, my love for these boots was stifled
the other day, when my friend told me, to my deepest
chagrin and terror,
that my boots
are made of BABY KANGAROO fur.

Now, everytime I see these friends they call my boots,
"The Joeys."

Stressful.

I still seriously love these boots,
but I can't seem to help but think of
little, cute, cuddly, baby kangaroos
every time.

Are they really made of baby kangaroos?
Because I might be the most gullible person I know.

And I tried to google "emu boots made of baby kangaroos",
but, surprisingly enough, it was a dead end.

Sorta Like Riding A Bike?

I had not taught class in 17 days.
And today, the first day back from break, it felt like....17 years.

As the lovely students came pouring into my room,
desperately seeking knowledge about American Literature,
(as normal high schoolers do, of course)
I got up front and felt...

uncomfortable.

"Why are they all looking at me?!"
Raced through my mind.
Am I student teaching again?! Because seriously...
this is...
weird.

Because I lack a normal ability to hold back what I am thinking,
I asked them.

"Why are you all just staring at me?!"
To which they laughed.

"Don't you want us to look at you, Ms. Scheffers?"

I laughed some more.
"Well, good point. Probably tomorrow I will be saying,
"HEY! LOOK AT ME WHEN I AM TALKING TO YOU!"

But for that moment, it felt weird to have 27 pairs of eyes
looking at me in expectation.

But then I began, as I have a million times before...
and it almost felt like riding a bike.

In 15 years...

I hope I know God in ways that I don’t know Him now.
I hope I have numerous people in my life that I love so much more than myself.
I hope I stay ambitious.
I hope I still play soccer.
I hope I still run and stay healthy.
I hope I know how to cook….well.
I hope I have at least my masters.
I hope I live near at least some of my family and stay close with them.
I hope I read my Bible every day.
I hope I still love and find purpose in my career.
I hope I have time to read books.
I hope I still write.
I hope I still laugh as much as I do now.
I hope I am still really close to my best friends now.
I hope I am not too concerned about financial issues, and give generously.
I hope I am debt free from college.
I hope I travel to a continent that I have never been to before.
I hope I am more....well....organized.
I hope I sleep.....more.
I hope I lose things....less.
I hope I am doing things that matter eternally.
I hope I remember all the blessings that are evident thus far in my life.