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.