Sunday, August 31, 2008

The Equation of Trust


Brooke Fraser singing "Faithful" at the Variety Playhouse in Atlanta - August 12th.

I have always been a nosy person. I attribute this quality to my grandmother and my father, who are two of the nosiest people I have ever met. (My Dad scared the living junk out of the two dates I had in high school with all of his questioning.) I am good at asking questions and finding out various little tidbits of curiosity.

My nosiness makes me unusually and obnoxiously impatient. Here lately, Jeremy and I are stuck in a time period in our lives where our questions are many and our answers are few. I want God to spell life for me as soon as possible - I want answers to questions that may never truly come in the neat, box-like way I want them to be answered.

And lately, my thoughts are often with the answers. I'm obsessed with answers. My nosiness leads me into a season that is driven by a desire to know my future, even though I know this is wrong. I know that I am not supposed to worry about tomorrow, and yet I find myself subscribing to any and every sign I can find.

My friend Kelley and I attended the Brooke Fraser concert a couple of weeks ago, and we talked about our futures. She's still waiting on some answers in her life, and I told her about my questions that need answering. During the concert, Brooke (because Brooke and I are on a first-name basis now) sang a song called, "Faithful." It was a song I usually skipped on her "Albertine" CD, but this song really spoke to me at that moment:

"When I can’t feel you/I have learned to reach out just the same/When I can’t hear you/I know you still hear every word I pray/And I want you/ More than I want to live another day/And as I wait for you/Maybe I’m made more faithful"

When she ended the song, tears flooded my eyes. At that moment, I thought, "Oh, God - Where is my trust for You in this moment? Where is my trust?"

So much of my life is focused on the addition of things I do not have, the things I want, and the things I know I do not deserve. My patience is nonexistent. I do not have the trust to wait for those moments where the parallel meets the perpendicular.

The subtraction of my trust has led to the addition of my impatience. I am constantly in fear over non-issues in my life.

This song serves as a reminder that I must remember the One to whom I owe everything. I am not guaranteed another breath in this life. I am not guaranteed any answers to my questions. I have to remember with a hopeful heart that "in all things God works to the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose (Rom. 8:28)." He is the granter of answers, the nexus of patience, the one who guarantees. He is One who gives me the hindsight of the past to understand the purpose of my future.

I hope I remember that as I continue to seek His face and His wisdom. Through the additions and subtractions of my life, I hope that the equation of trust will make me a more obedient servant to Him.

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Thoughts on a Supercell

So, the weather was quite feisty here in Hall County today.

As soon as the kids were dismissed at school, several teachers (along with a few gifted kids who stayed after school for advanced math tutoring) high-tailed it into a not-so-secure teacher's lounge. I sat around and nervously waited for the "all clear" sign. I was not comforted by the "take shelter! take shelter!" announcement that our secretary made. While text messaging and trying to find the radar on my phone, I pondered over these things:

1) Risograph machines, coffee pot, televisions, and cabinets...hmmm....this isn't very safe.

2) This area has more rain in one day than it saw in all of 2007.

3) Tornadoes love Hall County.

4) Gifted kids need tutoring? Interesting. At least this didn't happen during 6th period.

5) Attempting to purchase a house absolutely stinks.

6) I'm glad I canceled cross country practice.

7) That husband of mine is going to try and look at the tornado.

8) Why exactly is Hall County real estate so expensive? Do we hear about tornadoes hitting Forsyth and Gwinnett Counties all the time?? No! Then why is Hall County real estate more expensive than those affluent counties? Why is it that real estate is the most expensive on and around MOUNT VERNON ROAD, aka Tornado Alley? Don't people know that the houses are more likely to blow away in Hall County?

9) I have seen a tornado once. I don't ever want to see one again.

10) I hope my friends on the road are okay.

11) If these kids had been at North Hall ten years ago, they wouldn't be laughing about this tornado warning right now.

Anyway...just some random thoughts from my very random day. Schools are very interesting places to be on days like this. I'm thankful for the rain, I just hope that it comes without any of its storm-filled friends tomorrow.

Wednesday, August 6, 2008

I have a job?

Sometimes - when I am lost in the luster of Turnstile, summer sun, and swimming pools - I forget that I have a job.

Then I go to pre-planning and realize that I do have a job. Not only that, but my job is one of the most under-appreciated jobs on the planet. I toil away, getting ready to teach children who are sometimes disrespectful, always complicated, and often completely wonderful. It is exhausting to be a teacher (and sometimes a second mother) to these children...just being their secretary right now is driving me to the breaking point.

I sweat thinking about the dreaded first day of school. I start to miss my old kids and the security of their smiles. I miss my intrepid student who read Pride and Prejudice after she heard I liked it. I miss my sweet male student who answered every question with "yes, ma'am" and cried the day he left my classroom. I miss my student who feels like one of my own children. I realize that I am not a mother, but I feel awfully maternal toward this precious child who doesn't have a mother who has the time to talk to her about being a woman, to tell her boys are evil, or to encourage her tremendous talent.
And through the struggles with exhaustion, slander, bureaucratic jargon, and pain - I realize that my effort is for them. The children of the past and those of the future are the calling of my life. I do have a job, and I have made the teaching of children my life's handiwork.
So, to all of you teachers out there - I hope this helps to encourage you a little. Going back to school is always difficult, but witnessing the achievements of those we pour our lives into make our efforts worthy.