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.