Annal 187: Tale from the Army of Cuddling

My niece decided to write a song about me last night.

Or to put it correctly, she decided to rewrite a song about me.

It goes something along the lines of, "You're an auntie, in the army of cuddling."  Actually, she alternated between putting me in the army of cuddling and the army of kissing.  Apparently this means I'm open to cuddling and kissing anyone, or so this adorable five year old put it.

Last night was one of those nights where pretty much the greatest thing in the world is to be an aunt who is hanging out with her niece and nephew.  My brother and sister-in-law went out for dinner and a play last night, so when I finished my day of practicum I drove out that way to take care of the kiddies.  Along the drive my phone rang.  After putting it on speaker phone (of course), I answered.  It was my niece double-checking that I was still coming and wanting to know my ETA.  My nephew then came to the phone and told me that he loved me and that I had better make sure I pray to God that He keep me safe while driving.

What followed was an evening of legendary epicness (at least in the world of Auntie-dom).  After a supper of chicken fingers the three of us nestled in to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas.  And yes, I am referring to the "good" one that is narrated by Boris Karloff.  We then prepared a massive bowl of homemade popcorn and I made up hot chocolate for each of us.  Upon special request I brought my all-time favourite Christmas classic, Santa Claus is Coming to Town to watch.

(I do so love a man with facial hair).

Sadly, devastatingly so, I opened my DVD case to discover that the DVD was missing.  This was a pivotal moment in the evening: would we mope, drowning or sorrows in hot cocoa and pop corn or would auntie reach into her little bag and be able to pull out other options she had brought along?

It was the latter and the result of this decision is that my niece and nephew are now completely in love with Home Alone.

Oh yes, they were making this face and screaming all morning :)

The highlight of this great evening?  My nephew didn't want to leave my side and actually fell asleep in my arms while playing with my hair.  And my niece decided to sneak down the stairs this morning shortly before seven so that she could come and cuddle with me.

I had breakfast with my family, went to a craft fair with my sister-in-law, and then drove back to my home (pretending it was not pouring rain but instead snowing).  And now I am snuggled within the folds of a blanket while drinking coffee and snacking on the rather vast assortment of chocolate in my possession (hooray for care packages from Charming).

So why am I sharing all of this?

Because all I could think of today is how incredibly blessed I am.  I just finished the second week of my short practicum and it was great.  I was teaching this week too, and being in a classroom interacting with students was fantastic.  I discovered that ninth grade boys really enjoy talking with me, and the lovely cord that hangs from the front of my car for cold weather creates a mysterious aura about me to some of the eleventh grade boys I teach.

My dad came to town this week for a conference and I was able to meet up with him for dinner.  I haven't seen my parents in two and a half months so it was wonderful to get to spend a few hours with him.

It has been an exhausting semester with several "interesting" little hurdles that have enjoyed popping up along the way.  Yet God has brought me over them all (though not without my fair share of scraped knees).  And this week has just been one where it seems like God has given me reminder after reminder that I am loved (as I write this all I can feel is my nephews three year old arms around my neck as he says "I love you so much" while pressing his cheek against mine).

I realize this isn't something deep, philsophical, or life-changing.  But this week has been filled with moments where I have been reminded of who God is.  Not because anything "big" has happened, but because of things like my niece and nephew's excitement to spend a night with me, or because the street I drive to my school everyday is lined with trees that have been lit with white Christmas lights, or because I have been able to run underneath a starry sky.

Annal 186: Tale from the Phoenix

Something about the phoenix has always held a sort of allure for me.  Maybe it has to do with my strange fascination with various mythologies, or maybe it has to do with the fact that Albus Dumbledore had a phoenix and it was that bird that delivered the Sorting Hat to Harry, thus supplying him with the Sword of Gryffindor and aiding him to conquer the basilisk?  Who knows?  Regardless of the cause this allure exists (I had even talked with a fellow student last semester about getting phoenix tatoos... she did so, I did not).

The reason I mention this strange attraction has to do with my experience at church this morning.  I have been in this odd place when it comes to church and my devotions.  I long desperately for solidity, for truth I can really sink my teeth into and hold onto.  And I do feel like I am being fed like that, to a certain degree.  The issue is that I still feel as if I am lacking something.  I read things or hear things and while they make complete sense, they seem to lack that "clicking" feeling--that sense of resonation with my soul.

I was lucky enough to get a four-day weekend and even luckier to have my brother and sister-in-law drive into my city and pick me up to spend the weekend with them.  So this morning I went to church with them.  After the first few songs I finally had to stop.  I had figured out what was missing.

"Lord, touch my heart," became my prayer.  "Make me open."

I have said this before--I grew up in more charismatic churches.  As a result I grew up seeing a lot of dependence in these churches on emotionalism--something was an act of God only if it was accompanied by shouting, dancing, jumping up and down, or copious amounts of crying.  I don't resent this.  It has allowed me to crave the solidity I crave now, but has also created an appreciation within me for the more emotional side of following Christ.  To follow Jesus is a decision that encompasses your entire life, and thus your heart as well as your mind.  I have been in churches that tend to hover over particular sides: some are great at feeding your intellect while others dwell wholly on tapering to the emotions.

Today I saw how I had been leaning to one side in the hopes of feeding my whole.  It doesn't work that way.

Almost immediately after I prayed the above prayer, the music team started singing "Our God" by Chris Tomlin.  I love the words of the second verse of this song.

Into the darkness You shine,
Out of the ashes we rise,
There's no one like You,
None like You.

In order for a phoenix to be reborn, it must first die.  Once it has been burned up, a new life can form from the ashes.

As I have said in my last few blog posts, I sometimes tend to forget who God is.  I sometimes forget that He is the almighty Creator.  I sometimes forget that He made the ultimate sacrifice for me.  I sometimes forget who He is.

On Tuesday morning I went for a run.  It was one of the first clear days in a long time, and for the first time I was able to see the stars shining as I ran.  The only word to describe what came over me was awe.  It seemed as if my Creator had taken time to remind me of His greatness that morning.  I could have sworn those stars were shining just for me to see.

I also had my financial situation worked out.  My overaward was reversed and I was reassessed for this semester (which means they decided to give me more money).  I also just had the part of my student loan that had been deducted in September deposited into my student account.  My money situation wasn't just resolved... it seemed as if it worked out to be a miracle.

And yet sometimes I forget who God is.

This is where the chorus to "Our God" starts playing through my head.

Our God is greater,
Our God is stronger,
God, You are higher than any other.
Our God is healer,
Awesome in power,
Our God, Our God.

Sometimes life doesn't turn out smoothly.  Sometimes things are left unresolved and we don't get the answers we want.  I have never received the resolution I wanted to the whole situation with my old church.  But I have learned what it means to forgive and have learned to live with the truth that things don't always work out the way we want them to.  But that doesn't mean that God is not all-powerful and in control.  He worked that situation out, not in a way that made me "happy," but in a way that taught me more of who He is, that showed me His character, and that stretched me to grow more like Him.

And then there are situations where it seems like the miracles you wish for actually happen.  I needed a financial miracle in order to stay in school for next semester and I was able to receive it.  It seemed like I kept hitting road block after road block these last few months when it came to money.  I was tired of fighting.  I wanted to give up.

Then, in one movement, all of my road blocks were demolished.

Yet sometimes I still forget who God is.

I'm sitting here and all I want to do is weep.  I am truly an ungrateful wretch.

And then I see that image of the phoenix.  I think of the burning that is required before the bird can be reborn.  And it is not reborn into its full glory.  It still has to grow.

Burning aches and growing is painful, but both are needed to achieve maturation.

I know I am a wretch, but I also know of the amazing grace that has saved me.

Annal 185: Tale from the Relational Way

I'm currently in the process of threatening a cat I have only ever met via Skype.  This does not bode particularly well for my sanity, does it?

So this week I start the short practicum of my degree.  I get to spend the next four weeks with my SA getting to know the students and teaching a few English 11 classes.  I have spent the last week designing lessons on narrative writing based out of Lord of the Flies (which means I had to reread the novel... ugh).  After sending my first few lessons to my SA he responded with feedback so I have been spending this weekend revising them (in my head, anyway).  When not doing that I have been playing World of Warcraft with either my brother and sister-in-law, or my father (this would be why Charming refers to me as his "Geeky Girlfriend").  Oh, I have also made up some Christmas cards, watched cheezy Christmas movies, and looked into applying to the Ontario College of Teachers for when I move out that way next year.

All in all, I would say it has actually been a relative productive weekend.  But also relaxing, which is nice given the gnawing stress and tension in the pit of stomach with heading into my school!

This last week I spent a few days at home (by order of my FA--and yes, I know the acronyms are a little much... trying being in this program!), and spent some of that time working on the rough copy of my teaching credo which I will have to present in January at some point.  As student teachers our credos are our belief statements about education and are supposed to be driven by our passions.  For some people in my class, this is social justice while for others it is music.

At this moment in time, my driving statement is: "I believe in life-long learning based in thoughtful collaboration."  Sounds hokey, I know, but coming out with this point and several supporting statements has helped me realize something.

I like a lot of things.  I love to read and write or to act, and I thoroughly enjoy video games and music.  But I am passionate about meaningful relationships.  When I taught grade 5/6, my classroom became its own community and it was incredible.  I made so many mistakes that year, and if I could go back there would be so much I would change.  But I wouldn't change the relationships I was able to forge with my students.  They could be completely honest and transparent with me, and I could be quirky and honest with them.  Because of this relationship they were willing to learn from me.

Realizing this annoyed me a little at first.  See, there are two universities down here that offer Teacher Education programs.  The one focuses a fair bit on curriculum.  The other focuses on the students and on forging relationships that will allow you to understand how best they learn so that you can better help them understand the curriculum. 

I am in the latter of those two programs.  And it has a reputation for fluffiness.  I have spent most of this semester better understanding myself and how life has shaped me so that I can understand how similar forces shape my students.  I have done a lot of chalk pastel drawings and spent far more time in reflection that is probably healthy (yes, I am saying all of this with a touch of sarcasm in my voice).  And sometimes the fluffiness drives me nuts.  That's why, when I realized that relationships and community were the driving force behind my credo annoyed me because I felt like I was simply spouting off the program line.

By the end of this week I had started to respect that this was, indeed, my passion.  Then I read something interesting in my devotions today.  I finished The Everlasting Man by Chesterton last weekend and started on The Jesus Way by Eugene Peterson this week.

I am almost done the first chapter which touches on how Jesus in the Way with reference to his temptations in the desert.  I want to share with you an excerpt that really struck me.

"Each of the devil's temptations has to do with the way that Jesus is the way, the way he will go about his work.  Will he reduce and depersonalize the way by imposing his will on the rocks, using them to provide for human needs, first taking care of himself and then feeding a lot of people?  Will he put on a circus spectacular, demonstrating the miraculous, ever-present providence of God to the people on the street by never dealing with them as persons?  Will he rule the world by means of a faceless bureaucracy, efficiently enacting justice and prosperity without getting his hands dirty?

"Jesus said no to each one in turn.  Jesus gave a definitive, Scripture-backed no to each temptations.  And why?  Because in each case it would have been an impersonal way, a way abstracted from relationships, a way disengaged from love, a way imposed from the ouside.  It would have been a way ripped out of the comprehensive story of salvation, and therefore ripped out of participation in people's lives... The way of Jesus is always exercised in personal ways... It is never an impersonal interference from the outside."

At another point, Peterson states that "Jesus is not interested in diverting us from life, but in revealing the "more" that is in life beyond what we can cobble together on our own, dimensions of beauty and challenge, depths of gladness, our mouths 'filled with laughter' (Psalms 126:2).  What is more impressive than the miracles that Jesus performed is that he performed so few of them... The way of Jesus is not a sequence of exceptions to the ordinary, but a way of living deeply and fully with the people here an dnow, in the place we find ourselves."

Jesus is passionate about relationships.

Today the pastor in the church I have decided to attend spoke on unity among Christians, about being united in purpose and caring for each other.

Sometimes I so utterly fail at this.  As passionate as I am about relationships, I still fail... a lot.  Like yesterday afternoon.  I went for a walk and was quickly turned around by the vast amounts of rain.  On my way back I passed a girl who was also making her way along the same path, only she was doing so on crutches.  Now I realize I couldn't have done much to help her aside from somehow carrying her and her crutches.  But I could have offered my umbrella.  And, to be honest, I felt like I should have.

But I didn't.

Instead, I kept right on walking because I was too embarassed to ask if she wanted to share my rather large umbrella.

And the rest of the way home I felt horrible.

But I didn't turn around.  Because that would have been even more embarassing.

I want to follow the Jesus Way.  And to do so, I need to follow the way Jesus did things.  Jesus cared about people.

I don't want just my career as a teacher to be a reflection of the ways of Jesus... I want every part of my life to be an image of that.  Even if it means stepping out of my comfort zone and offering my umbrella to a stranger.

Annal 184: Tale from the Reminder

Since Saturday I have started and restarted this particular post more times that I can count.  Each time it didn't seem like the write moment.  It was as if a hand was being held up and I was being told to "wait."  Story of my life, right?

As most of you who read my blog know, I had somewhat of a financial setback at the start of this semester due to a student loan overaward.  My family and friends have been incredibly gracious and have helped me out more than I could ever hope to explain.  But this semester has been tight.  And as of this last Friday I had a realization.

I can't afford school right now.

My program has an option known as Due Process.  This is where, due to financial problems or other issues that arise (like getting pregnant or something to that effect), you can take a semester off and then just finish a few months later.  On Saturday night I emailed my FA about taking this route.

This was probably one of the hardest decisions I have ever had to make.  I felt like I was letting myself down, in a way like I was a failure (even though I know this is not true), and I hated the fact that it meant postponing living near Charming for an extra four or five months.  While, financially, this option would put me in a far better place, it was still a hard decision to make.

And my FA was not willing to let me make this choice until she had had a chance to fight for me.  She has spent the last few days emailing and calling around, trying to figure out what I could do to get this whole issue with my student loans figured out.  I wanted to tell her not to bother--even if they agreed to let me pay of my overaward at a later date I still wouldn't have enough money to pay for next semester.  Yesterday she sent me home from class so I could try to get in touch with people who could help me.  The result of this?  One person being away from their office, another person being in meetings all day, and the third never getting back to me.  By about four o'clock yesterday afternoon I was ready to email my FA and throw in the towel.  I appreciated her helping me fight and not wanting me to have to take a semester off, but this seemed like it was just one more roadblock and I was done fighting.

Shortly before sending this email I received a phone call from the financial aid office.  We had a lovely chat about my student loan situation and they offered for me to come in and call the loan office with them.  Turns out the overaward was from the year I took off from school to teach full-time.  I had applied for a loan, but then withdrew from classes.  Checking my bank records proved that I never did receive the money they are saying they gave me.

I just got back from that meeting.  Apparently the certificate/record from that year was deleted.  So they are recreating it for me and it looks like my overaward will be taken away.  Which means I shouldn't have to take a semester off.

It also means that there is the slightest possibility that the money I didn't get to receive this semester because they put it towards my overaward will be given back to me.

There is also the slightest chance that this will come to nothing and I will still have to go through with Due Process.  But that possibility is dwindling.

I learned something about myself through all of this.  When it comes to myself, I'm not a fighter.  I will fight if people go against those I love and care for.  But when I have to face my own odds that seem insurmountable, I don't like to cause ripples.  I'm not very confrontational.  But I wasn't allowed to do this in this situation.  People rose up to fight for me, and even though I wanted to give up, I couldn't.

Above all, I was reminded that I serve a God who is so much bigger than anything I could come up with.  He keeps throwing twists into my story that I don't see coming.  He did it with letting me teach for a year, with how he brought Charming into my life, and now He has done it with my finances.

Sometimes I forget who He is.

I guess you could say that today I got a healthy reminder!

Annal 183: Tale from some Monday Morning Mind-Blowing Imagery

I know.

Believe me, I know.

I wrote a post yesterday, and given my history over the last few months you should not be seeing a post on here until at least Saturday.

But it is Monday, the day after I wrote another blog entry, and I'm at it.

Class is starting after lunch today so that we can get some time to work on our group projects and my group isn't meeting for another two hours still, so I have time to reflect on some pretty incredibly imagery that I just came upon in my devotions this morning.

Maybe this is just me, but I have begun to notice a pattern with myself when reading non-fiction.  I tend to love the first little chunk of a book and gather great insight from it, and then for almost the rest of it find myself struggling to get through it.  Most times I can't even remember the point of the book, or the chapter I am working on.  Such was the case with Chesterton's The Everlasting Man.  When I started it over the summer I found quite a bit that struck me, but the last few months have seemed like trudging through the mud.

Something has begun to change over the last week.  Perhaps it is because I am drawing near to the conclusion of the book, or perhaps I am just in a different place, I don't know.  All I know is that I read some incredible descriptions of the death of Christ and felt like I just had to share it.  I finished the chapter "The Strangest Story in the World," and Chesterton painted the crucifixion in a light that I had never seen it.  He talks of how difficult, how impossible even, it is to add words to this part of the Gospel.  So rather than simply adding words, here is what he says.

"It is more within my powers, and here more immediately to my purpose, to point out that in that scene [the crucifixion] were symbolically gathered all the human forces that have been vaguely sketched in this story.  As kings and philosophers and the popular element had been symbolically present at his birth, so they were more practically concerned in his death; and with that we come face to face with the essential fact to be realized.  All the great groups stood about the Cross represent in one way or another the great historical truth of the time: that the world could not save itself.  Man could do no more... in the lightning flash of this incident, we see great Rome, the imperial republic, going downward under her Lucrectian doom.  Skepticism has eaten away even the confident sanity of the conquerors of the world.  He who is enthroned to say what is just can only ask: 'What is truth?'  So in that drama which decided the whole fate of antiquity, one of the central figures is fixed in what seems the reverse of his true role.  Rome was almost another name for responsibility.  Yet he stands forever as a sort of rocking statue of the irresponsible.  Man could do no more.  Even the practical had become the impracticable.  Standing between the pillars of his own judgment seat, a Roman had washed his hands of the world."

Man could do no more.

In the last two paragraphs of this chapter Chesterton drives this point home even more so.

"For in that second cavern [Christ's tomb] the whole of that great and glorious humanity which we call antiquity was gathered up and covered over; and in that place it was buried.  It was the end of a very great thing called human history--the history that was merely human.  The mythologies and the philosophies were buried there, the gods and the heroes and the sages.  In the great Roman phrase, they had lived.  But as they could only live, so they could only die; and they were dead.

"On the third day the friends of Christ coming at daybreak to the place found the grave empty and the stone rolled away.  In varying ways they realized the new wonder; but even they hardly realized that the world had died in the night.  What they were looking at was the first day of a new creation, with a new heaven and a new earth; and in a semblance of the gardener God walked again the garden, in the cool not of the evening but the dawn."

I got shivers just typing that (and not just because I am freezing right now).

I don't think I have ever looked at the crucifixion of Christ in this light.  Chesterton has spent his book talking about the ways people have searched for truth and tried to make sense of their world.  And then he shows how in the coming of Christ this one great truth was revealed: no matter how hard man tries, he cannot save himself.

Man could do no more.

Like Chesterton, I really don't think I could add any more to this.  My words would be pointless.  So I leave this to your thoughts and reflections.