Okay, so it has been brought to my attention that it has been some time since I have posted. This is not untrue and I highly appreciate that someone noticed that it's been awhile.
Things have been a bit busy lately. Thankfully, though, it's been the good kind of busy. When I think about this time last year, well, I quickly change the subject in my head... (finishing up your last year of teaching, getting ready to get married and preparing to move halfway across the country two weeks after your wedding, well...you get the idea).
So here is a short synopsis of my year thus far...(plus a bit of the end of last year). I will give you details about these later, but here's a good starting point, since I should probably be sleeping right now. :)
November:
Make the commitment to become a home owner. Get a real estate agent, pre-approved loan and a realistic picture of what you can actually afford. Visit lots and lots of houses.
December:
Visit a lot more houses. Get discouraged (because, you know, that's what I do) and wonder if I will ever find something I love in my price range that doesn't require tons of fixing up (because our budget just doesn't cover that). Visit a house that looks extremely promising on the internet and leave said house wondering if a dead body is buried in the backyard. Or the walls. Or conceivably both. Still kind of awaiting that call from our agent stating that, in fact, a mass murderer lived there. Needless to say, that wasn't the house for us. More on that later.
Find a house that is perfect. Put in an offer and realize that it's a short sale. (Tip: short sales are the devil. Avoid these at all costs.) Try to not get my hopes up about the house and fail miserably. Await the bank's counteroffer anxiously.
January:
Still waiting for the bank's response to our offer. Oh wait, it's $25,000 more than our offer and completely out of our range (plus, in my opinion, way more than it's worth in this market). Counteroffer the counteroffer.
Bank comes down $5,000. Still not affordable. After much deliberation, decide that the bank is stupid and leave their offer. (House is still on the market, btw.)
Decide not to look at any more short sales and do regular sales or foreclosures only.
Apply for "promotion" at work. Get "promotion" and become part of the full-time working populace again. (Details to follow later.)
February:
Find a new house and fall in love. This is not a short sale. :) Put in an offer.
Offer accepted. Yay!!! Get home inspection.
Home inspection fairly normal. Negotiate based on home inspection. Offer is acceptable to all parties. Schedule date to sign all the papers.
Have car accident. My fault. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Fortunately, no one was injured and the other person's car was hardly damaged. My car is all better now.
Pack, pack, pack. ::Ugh::
March:
Become first-time home owners!!! Move in with the help of amazing friends. Unpack, unpack, unpack.
April:
Unpack some more. Attempting real organization for the first time in my life (will write some posts with tips that have been working for me) and am unpacking slowly to try to actually find a place for everything.
I think something else happened in April...see where my mind has gone?
Oh yeah, I chopped off ten inches of hair and donated it to Pantene Great Lengths. I am now sporting a pixie hairstyle. It's taken some getting used to, but I do think I like it.
May:
Decide to apply for new jobs. Can handle this job (it's so easy, it's not even funny), but continually realize that this is not a permanent solution. Update resume. ::HATE:: Revise resume. Revise again. Start drafting cover letter. Decide that writing cover letters might be a good form of torture. Pull job requisitions. Get extremely frustrated with the entire process and the fact that a lot of people seem to think that I should just go back to teaching because it would be "so different in a 'normal' school." Um, thanks to the lack of respect for teachers and the brain sucking thing called No Child Left Behind and the fact that wealthier parents are also crazy, just differently crazy, I'm going to say that this is probably not the case. But I digress...soapboxes, I know.
Random neighbor hits car and runs. Not major damage, but my bumper is cracked. Still need to schedule an inspection for it so insurance company will fix it. Neighbor kids, however, are awesome and wrote down license plate. Called police and filed report. Still awaiting next steps...
Whew... It's been busy. But good busy. We're really happy and healthy and we're getting ready to celebrate one year of marriage!
Josh has proven that he is extremely handy since moving into the house. Maybe he could teach handy husband lessons. :)
Also, because I'm nerdy, I've decided that I'm going to start my Etsy business, learn to quilt and write some blog articles about organizing and crafting. I like to use this to update my friends and really just write about everything that's going on (isn't blogging so therapeutic?), but I LOVE tutorial blogs and I would love it if I could eventually be the writer of one of those, too. Yes, I am boring, but I'd like to think I'm a fun and funky kind of nerdy boring. Yes, I know that this is definitionally impossible, but, quite frankly, I don't much care. :)
And now, I am going to attempt to go to bed, even though I have had entirely too much caffeine today and am not sure that this is going to be a manageable task.
Goodnight!
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Monday, December 13, 2010
Child Life
It's been awhile since I've posted. I have a few things I should probably start posting about...a response to an article that I've wanted to put up for awhile and I'm getting ready to start my own Etsy shop, so I've been thinking about posting about that. Oh yeah, and we're trying to buy a house.
So for those of you who read my blog, thanks again and sorry that it's been so long. :) I will update on my oh-so-exciting (not really, but I'm enjoying that) life soon.
But tonight, I am tired and I have to work tomorrow, so it will be a quick post. Or at least I'm going to try.
Tomorrow, I am meeting with a Child Life Specialist to discuss the job position and the requirements for certification. I am very excited and would greatly appreciate any prayers, kind thoughts that you would send my way.
Right now, I'm just trying to figure out my next calling in life. Clearly, it isn't teaching. And while I am enjoying being a hearing screener for now, it's definitely not a forever position for me. I am grateful for the opportunity in this economy, but it's only part time, it doesn't pay very well and it just isn't what I envision doing for the rest of my life. Which is fine. It's certainly better than nothing and it's nice to have something significantly less taxing than my last job. Plus I get to hang out with babies and meet new people every day.
I found out about Child Life from my friend, Ellen, who is a Med/Peds resident in Houston. Basically that means that she's studying medicine to be able to practice on both adults and children. The best part is that she can really provide that gap for people like my brother who have adult problems, but need the bedside manner and skills of a pediatrician. (For those of you who may not know, my brother has Down Syndrome and Autism, if that provides any clarity.) Ellen and I were talking about what I should do next and she suggested Child Life, so this is something that's sort of been rolling around in my head for about a year now. Ellen also introduced me to my husband, so if I do decide to pursue this as a career, she will have had a pretty distinct impact on my life. :)
I mean, she will have had a pretty awesome impact either way, but it will be even more dramatic. (Not trying to downplay you, Josh.)
So what is Child Life? I'm going to try to link a video that gives a great explanation, but I'll also put the Child Life Council website. www.childlife.org Child life specialists help kids who are receiving medical treatment, often in the hospital. They teach kids about the procedures they'll undergo, provide therapeutic and educational play, sibling support and distraction during medical procedures. I love kids and I feel like this might be a way where I can actually feel like I can have an impact. I can't make their ailments go away, but I might be able to provide some understanding and emotional support along the way.
It's not something that I'll be starting right away. I have a lot to do to even be eligible to sit the certification exam. I have to pick up about ten classes that relate to Child Life (basically psychology, child development, that sort of thing), since I didn't take anything remotely related in college. I also have to complete an internship/fellowship and then sit the exam. So, it's a ways off, but I feel like I might finally have some direction.
We'll see. Maybe this is only a stop in the journey.
So for those of you who read my blog, thanks again and sorry that it's been so long. :) I will update on my oh-so-exciting (not really, but I'm enjoying that) life soon.
But tonight, I am tired and I have to work tomorrow, so it will be a quick post. Or at least I'm going to try.
Tomorrow, I am meeting with a Child Life Specialist to discuss the job position and the requirements for certification. I am very excited and would greatly appreciate any prayers, kind thoughts that you would send my way.
Right now, I'm just trying to figure out my next calling in life. Clearly, it isn't teaching. And while I am enjoying being a hearing screener for now, it's definitely not a forever position for me. I am grateful for the opportunity in this economy, but it's only part time, it doesn't pay very well and it just isn't what I envision doing for the rest of my life. Which is fine. It's certainly better than nothing and it's nice to have something significantly less taxing than my last job. Plus I get to hang out with babies and meet new people every day.
I found out about Child Life from my friend, Ellen, who is a Med/Peds resident in Houston. Basically that means that she's studying medicine to be able to practice on both adults and children. The best part is that she can really provide that gap for people like my brother who have adult problems, but need the bedside manner and skills of a pediatrician. (For those of you who may not know, my brother has Down Syndrome and Autism, if that provides any clarity.) Ellen and I were talking about what I should do next and she suggested Child Life, so this is something that's sort of been rolling around in my head for about a year now. Ellen also introduced me to my husband, so if I do decide to pursue this as a career, she will have had a pretty distinct impact on my life. :)
I mean, she will have had a pretty awesome impact either way, but it will be even more dramatic. (Not trying to downplay you, Josh.)
So what is Child Life? I'm going to try to link a video that gives a great explanation, but I'll also put the Child Life Council website. www.childlife.org Child life specialists help kids who are receiving medical treatment, often in the hospital. They teach kids about the procedures they'll undergo, provide therapeutic and educational play, sibling support and distraction during medical procedures. I love kids and I feel like this might be a way where I can actually feel like I can have an impact. I can't make their ailments go away, but I might be able to provide some understanding and emotional support along the way.
It's not something that I'll be starting right away. I have a lot to do to even be eligible to sit the certification exam. I have to pick up about ten classes that relate to Child Life (basically psychology, child development, that sort of thing), since I didn't take anything remotely related in college. I also have to complete an internship/fellowship and then sit the exam. So, it's a ways off, but I feel like I might finally have some direction.
We'll see. Maybe this is only a stop in the journey.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Our New Church has a lot of Messed-up People :)
God has really blessed Josh and I to be part of a church plant in Woodbridge/Dumfries, Virginia. It's called Spirit and Life Church and its mission is to be a place where all people feel welcome, whether they're growing in their walk with the Lord, not sure what they believe, unbelievers or have previously been estranged from the church. It wants to be the alternative to what many people commonly associate with the church (as in the institution, not the beliefs) today----more on that later. This will *hopefully* be a truly quick post.
But I wanted to share this video that the church played last week...I think it shows what the church at large is and should be. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUJpJyth3J4
You may have heard the criticism that Christians are a bunch of hypocrites and that's probably true. And that you might feel like you've screwed up too much to come to church or you won't be welcome or that God can't possibly love you.
You know what Christianity is? It's the following of a loving God by a bunch of screwed-up, flawed and really not-so-great people. God loves everyone and forgives all those who come to Him. And there's not one thing we can do to earn His love....or lose it. We're all messed up. (I mean if you've met me, you know I can be kind of a jerk.) We all like to save face and pretend that we're not, but we are. I guess that's where we're a bunch of hypocrites. So if you want to go to church with a bunch of people who are just as messed up as you are, but also just as forgiven, we'd love to have you.
But I wanted to share this video that the church played last week...I think it shows what the church at large is and should be. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oUJpJyth3J4
You may have heard the criticism that Christians are a bunch of hypocrites and that's probably true. And that you might feel like you've screwed up too much to come to church or you won't be welcome or that God can't possibly love you.
You know what Christianity is? It's the following of a loving God by a bunch of screwed-up, flawed and really not-so-great people. God loves everyone and forgives all those who come to Him. And there's not one thing we can do to earn His love....or lose it. We're all messed up. (I mean if you've met me, you know I can be kind of a jerk.) We all like to save face and pretend that we're not, but we are. I guess that's where we're a bunch of hypocrites. So if you want to go to church with a bunch of people who are just as messed up as you are, but also just as forgiven, we'd love to have you.
Friday, September 10, 2010
Mess
Just a quickie that I had to share. Plus a lighten up after my last post. :)
I have a new job. Yay! I do hearing screenings in a hospital.
On Wednesday, I was still training, so I was going with this other girl that works there and one of the babies kept spitting up during the test, so to prevent choking and calm him down, I wound up holding the baby, who spat up on me multiple times. The girl that I work with kept saying that she was so sorry that it happened and poor me, etc.
To which I responded, no big deal, that's why we wear scrubs and I've had worse happen. (Which I have, I've had projectile vomit and there were lots and lots of potty accidents my first year of teaching, which I have stepped in more than once.) This was no big deal, but look on her face was pretty funny when I said that I've had worse.
But my mother, who keeps reminding me that not everyone appreciates the topic of lice at the dinner table, would be happy to note that I did not elaborate to this poor girl.
I have a new job. Yay! I do hearing screenings in a hospital.
On Wednesday, I was still training, so I was going with this other girl that works there and one of the babies kept spitting up during the test, so to prevent choking and calm him down, I wound up holding the baby, who spat up on me multiple times. The girl that I work with kept saying that she was so sorry that it happened and poor me, etc.
To which I responded, no big deal, that's why we wear scrubs and I've had worse happen. (Which I have, I've had projectile vomit and there were lots and lots of potty accidents my first year of teaching, which I have stepped in more than once.) This was no big deal, but look on her face was pretty funny when I said that I've had worse.
But my mother, who keeps reminding me that not everyone appreciates the topic of lice at the dinner table, would be happy to note that I did not elaborate to this poor girl.
Big Sticks and the Church
I think that God must have a big stick with which He likes to smack me upside the head. Not because He likes to beat people in the head with sticks, don't get me wrong. Rather, it's because I am apparently extremely dense.
::Here we can likely insert my dad laughing and exclaiming, "He's just trying to teach you to open doors with your hand, not your head." Dad's favorite expression.::
Well. Thanks.
I think that the story/expression "be careful what you wish for" ought to be changed. Instead it should be, be careful what you pray for.
And here my smarter, more experienced friends laugh.
For example, I do not have a lot of patience. Yes, it is a virtue. No, it is not one that I naturally possess. People and things aggravate me pretty clearly. People who waste time in meetings asking questions that have already been answered. The lady behind me in line who's kid just hit me with the cart for the third time. The fan in the bathroom in our apartment that automatically comes on when you hit the lights.
This one confounds Josh. Why do you hate the fan? Because it's loud, I say. In actuality, it's because I can't control it. I like to be in control. (Yes, that's one of the issues related to the stick.) But why does the fan get to decide that it has to be on because the lights are? Clearly I am a much more capable decision maker than the fan. I digress...
But sometimes I don't turn the lights on just to spite that stupid fan.
So here we rewind to my first job as a retail associate at Ann Taylor Factory store. Here is a place ripe with opportunities to practice patience. People who are rude to sales associates. The lady who comes in at the height of business on Saturday every week to return eighty items (this is not an exaggeration, this was a literal weekly occurrence). What is my response? "Dear God, please give me patience."
Idiot.
God has such a sense of humor, doesn't He? His response? Teach for America. 22 four-year-olds, alone, for eight hours a day. Insane four-year-olds. What a lesson.
And, yet, I am apparently a slow learner.
So here we are in 2010. I finished teaching and Teach for America in May, got married and moved back to Virginia in June and am trying to decide what to do with my life. I am blessed with the time, energy and supportive spouse to do it. I should be happy. And I am. But I'm also fairly torn up from my school experiences.
It sounds silly, I know. But I had a very hard time leaving them and their stories behind. I think I experienced some culture shock, honestly. All I can think about is the fact that I have abandoned these kids, that I feel and always felt powerless to help specific ones. It's hard to explain how I felt and how I still feel. What might explain it best is the worship song from Hillsong, "Hosanna," which makes me cry every time I hear it.
The chorus of the song goes like this,
"Heal my heart and make it clean,
Open up my eyes to the things unseen.
Show me how to love like You loved me.
Break my heart for what breaks Yours
Everything I am for Your Kingdom's cause.
As I walk from earth into eternity."
I love that song, but I don't need to sing that song. God has already broken my heart. The first time a child indicated to me that he was being abused and the system tied my hands. The time I visited a student in the hospital because he almost died from injuries sustained after his mom's boyfriend had a fight with her and he hit her car with the kids inside in response. When a child showed signs of sexual abuse and I reported it through the correct channels and nothing happened.
God bless Josh for putting up with me trying to repair myself. I know it hasn't been easy and I love him for it.
So we have been looking for a church. We finally found one, which I'm very excited about. I'll discuss it in another post because this one, like all of my posts, is becoming very long. But in the midst of looking for a church that shared our beliefs and had opportunities to serve God, we discovered some very disturbing things.
A. Many churches are very insulated. They minister to their members and that's about it.
Church should be a place where believers should be ministered to. It should be a place where they can grow and develop spiritually. This is not wrong. But being only about your members is wrong. Have they read their Bibles? In Acts, Jesus specifically states, "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." (Acts 1:8 NIV) Be witnesses. That's pretty explicit.
B. Many churches are not involved in the local community.
We were really blessed in Houston to be members of an amazing church that was changing the local community. (www.cityofrefuge.org) We didn't think that it was so rare, though. When we visited new churches, we always attended the new visitors meeting afterward and we always asked the same question, "What do you do to invest in and minister to your local community? How do you bring in nonbelievers or new believers?"
Some churches were doing really cool things. McClean Bible Church has an amazing ministry dedicated to people with disabilities, which is an often under-reached (especially in terms of ministry) population.
Others, we were shocked, were completely surprised by our question. "The local community? I mean, we tell people to invite their neighbors. But we give a lot of money to ministries in Africa." Really? Inviting your neighbors is great. That is a good practice. But that's it? God commissioned us to serve. As James said, "faith, by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead." (James 2:17 NIV) And I'm not saying that giving to Africa and supporting international missions is wrong. I'm not saying that at all. If God called you to work internationally, then you should definitely follow that calling.
But what I am saying is that God has a heart for the WORLD and that includes the United States. He charges us to be good stewards of our money and part of that involves using it to further His work. But He also charges us to be good stewards of our gifts and that includes our time and talents. We are so quick to look outside our borders for places to give aid, that we so often forget the suffering and hurt in our own backyard. It might be crippling poverty, or abuse or death of a loved one. It might be a struggling marriage or an inability to adequately care for children. It could be disability or mental illness or homelessness. It could be depression or substance abuse or incarceration. The United States needs God just as much as Africa does.
Even Mother Teresa who was called to the slums of India addressed this, "Around the world, not only in the poor countries, but I found the poverty of the West so much more difficult to remove. When I pick up a person from the street, hungry, I give him a plate of rice, a piece of bread, I have satisfied. I have removed that hunger. But a person that is shut out, that feels unwanted, unloved, terrified, the person who has been thrown out from society — that poverty is so hurtable and so much, and I find that very difficult.” She also addressed the spiritual poverty so prevalent in the United States. If she could see it after witnessing so much in India, why can't we?
Clearly, God has given me a heart and a calling to the United States.
A couple of weeks ago, my mom and I attended the Women of Faith conference in Washington, D.C. My parents gave it to me as a gift because they thought it might be "healing." And it really was. It was so great. Many of the speakers were very amusing (I thought that I might pee on myself from laughing so hard at Anita Renfroe) and also insightful and I have just felt so much better since. Prayer and laughter are often the best medicines, aren't they?
But here comes the moment of the big stick.
Throughout the conference, I was reflecting on what God called these women to, their journeys and the way that they could reach so many people for Him. Which, naturally, resulted in me thinking on what He could be calling me to. And I prayed that suicidal prayer, "God I want to live my life for You and I want to accomplish the work that you have laid out for me."
Stupid.
What does He do? Gives me an unblinkingly clear vision on a Metro ride back from seeing the Smithsonian with Josh. And not an easy little project. A ridiculous one that will take a lot of money and space and time and volunteers that I don't even know where to begin. One that I'm not prepared to share yet and that I'm nervous didn't come from God. But it was so clear that I'm not sure that it could have come from anywhere else.
Smack.
And in my head and my heart I worry that I can't do what He has shown me. So what happens? A little voice in my head keeps telling me to read about Rahab in the Bible. (Actually this started long before the vision, so maybe it was in preparation.)
Really? Read the Bible? I don't do that often enough. I grew up in a tradition where it wasn't especially encouraged and, though I've tried repeatedly, I haven't yet been able to lodge it as a habit. So, I ignore it for a few solid weeks until I finally break down and it leads me to the Book of Joshua about whom I know nothing. My study Bible indicates that I should read up on his life in Exodus and Numbers, so I do and this is a basic rundown of what I learn:
Joshua basically becomes one of Moses' right hand guys when the Israelites are wandering through the desert.
Can I take a time-out for just a second? I so appreciate that the Israelites are God's chosen people. They were obviously not chosen for merit. I mean, God frees them from slavery in Egypt and then when there isn't food, God makes bread rain down from Heaven. Literally bread falls from the sky and all they have to do is pick it up from the ground. So then they complain that there isn't enough of a variety of food and that they were better off as slaves in Egypt. When Moses goes up to Mount Sinai for a couple of weeks, they decide that God has abandoned them and make a calf out of gold and worship it thanking it for freeing them from slavery. They, who have seen bread fall from the sky, make a freaking calf out of gold and worship it and complain about not being slaves anymore. Thank you, God, for choosing the Israelites because if You can make something out of them, then You can make something out of me.
Back to Joshua. When Moses dies, God chooses Joshua to replace him. Although the written conversation in Joshua chapter 1 is pretty one-sided, it seems to indicate that Joshua is rather hesitant about the job because God tells him, "Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:8-9)
Okay, fine. I'm still not sure about this, but I definitely felt the stick on that one.
Maybe next time I should duck.
::Here we can likely insert my dad laughing and exclaiming, "He's just trying to teach you to open doors with your hand, not your head." Dad's favorite expression.::
Well. Thanks.
I think that the story/expression "be careful what you wish for" ought to be changed. Instead it should be, be careful what you pray for.
And here my smarter, more experienced friends laugh.
For example, I do not have a lot of patience. Yes, it is a virtue. No, it is not one that I naturally possess. People and things aggravate me pretty clearly. People who waste time in meetings asking questions that have already been answered. The lady behind me in line who's kid just hit me with the cart for the third time. The fan in the bathroom in our apartment that automatically comes on when you hit the lights.
This one confounds Josh. Why do you hate the fan? Because it's loud, I say. In actuality, it's because I can't control it. I like to be in control. (Yes, that's one of the issues related to the stick.) But why does the fan get to decide that it has to be on because the lights are? Clearly I am a much more capable decision maker than the fan. I digress...
But sometimes I don't turn the lights on just to spite that stupid fan.
So here we rewind to my first job as a retail associate at Ann Taylor Factory store. Here is a place ripe with opportunities to practice patience. People who are rude to sales associates. The lady who comes in at the height of business on Saturday every week to return eighty items (this is not an exaggeration, this was a literal weekly occurrence). What is my response? "Dear God, please give me patience."
Idiot.
God has such a sense of humor, doesn't He? His response? Teach for America. 22 four-year-olds, alone, for eight hours a day. Insane four-year-olds. What a lesson.
And, yet, I am apparently a slow learner.
So here we are in 2010. I finished teaching and Teach for America in May, got married and moved back to Virginia in June and am trying to decide what to do with my life. I am blessed with the time, energy and supportive spouse to do it. I should be happy. And I am. But I'm also fairly torn up from my school experiences.
It sounds silly, I know. But I had a very hard time leaving them and their stories behind. I think I experienced some culture shock, honestly. All I can think about is the fact that I have abandoned these kids, that I feel and always felt powerless to help specific ones. It's hard to explain how I felt and how I still feel. What might explain it best is the worship song from Hillsong, "Hosanna," which makes me cry every time I hear it.
The chorus of the song goes like this,
"Heal my heart and make it clean,
Open up my eyes to the things unseen.
Show me how to love like You loved me.
Break my heart for what breaks Yours
Everything I am for Your Kingdom's cause.
As I walk from earth into eternity."
I love that song, but I don't need to sing that song. God has already broken my heart. The first time a child indicated to me that he was being abused and the system tied my hands. The time I visited a student in the hospital because he almost died from injuries sustained after his mom's boyfriend had a fight with her and he hit her car with the kids inside in response. When a child showed signs of sexual abuse and I reported it through the correct channels and nothing happened.
God bless Josh for putting up with me trying to repair myself. I know it hasn't been easy and I love him for it.
So we have been looking for a church. We finally found one, which I'm very excited about. I'll discuss it in another post because this one, like all of my posts, is becoming very long. But in the midst of looking for a church that shared our beliefs and had opportunities to serve God, we discovered some very disturbing things.
A. Many churches are very insulated. They minister to their members and that's about it.
Church should be a place where believers should be ministered to. It should be a place where they can grow and develop spiritually. This is not wrong. But being only about your members is wrong. Have they read their Bibles? In Acts, Jesus specifically states, "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." (Acts 1:8 NIV) Be witnesses. That's pretty explicit.
B. Many churches are not involved in the local community.
We were really blessed in Houston to be members of an amazing church that was changing the local community. (www.cityofrefuge.org) We didn't think that it was so rare, though. When we visited new churches, we always attended the new visitors meeting afterward and we always asked the same question, "What do you do to invest in and minister to your local community? How do you bring in nonbelievers or new believers?"
Some churches were doing really cool things. McClean Bible Church has an amazing ministry dedicated to people with disabilities, which is an often under-reached (especially in terms of ministry) population.
Others, we were shocked, were completely surprised by our question. "The local community? I mean, we tell people to invite their neighbors. But we give a lot of money to ministries in Africa." Really? Inviting your neighbors is great. That is a good practice. But that's it? God commissioned us to serve. As James said, "faith, by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead." (James 2:17 NIV) And I'm not saying that giving to Africa and supporting international missions is wrong. I'm not saying that at all. If God called you to work internationally, then you should definitely follow that calling.
But what I am saying is that God has a heart for the WORLD and that includes the United States. He charges us to be good stewards of our money and part of that involves using it to further His work. But He also charges us to be good stewards of our gifts and that includes our time and talents. We are so quick to look outside our borders for places to give aid, that we so often forget the suffering and hurt in our own backyard. It might be crippling poverty, or abuse or death of a loved one. It might be a struggling marriage or an inability to adequately care for children. It could be disability or mental illness or homelessness. It could be depression or substance abuse or incarceration. The United States needs God just as much as Africa does.
Even Mother Teresa who was called to the slums of India addressed this, "Around the world, not only in the poor countries, but I found the poverty of the West so much more difficult to remove. When I pick up a person from the street, hungry, I give him a plate of rice, a piece of bread, I have satisfied. I have removed that hunger. But a person that is shut out, that feels unwanted, unloved, terrified, the person who has been thrown out from society — that poverty is so hurtable and so much, and I find that very difficult.” She also addressed the spiritual poverty so prevalent in the United States. If she could see it after witnessing so much in India, why can't we?
Clearly, God has given me a heart and a calling to the United States.
A couple of weeks ago, my mom and I attended the Women of Faith conference in Washington, D.C. My parents gave it to me as a gift because they thought it might be "healing." And it really was. It was so great. Many of the speakers were very amusing (I thought that I might pee on myself from laughing so hard at Anita Renfroe) and also insightful and I have just felt so much better since. Prayer and laughter are often the best medicines, aren't they?
But here comes the moment of the big stick.
Throughout the conference, I was reflecting on what God called these women to, their journeys and the way that they could reach so many people for Him. Which, naturally, resulted in me thinking on what He could be calling me to. And I prayed that suicidal prayer, "God I want to live my life for You and I want to accomplish the work that you have laid out for me."
Stupid.
What does He do? Gives me an unblinkingly clear vision on a Metro ride back from seeing the Smithsonian with Josh. And not an easy little project. A ridiculous one that will take a lot of money and space and time and volunteers that I don't even know where to begin. One that I'm not prepared to share yet and that I'm nervous didn't come from God. But it was so clear that I'm not sure that it could have come from anywhere else.
Smack.
And in my head and my heart I worry that I can't do what He has shown me. So what happens? A little voice in my head keeps telling me to read about Rahab in the Bible. (Actually this started long before the vision, so maybe it was in preparation.)
Really? Read the Bible? I don't do that often enough. I grew up in a tradition where it wasn't especially encouraged and, though I've tried repeatedly, I haven't yet been able to lodge it as a habit. So, I ignore it for a few solid weeks until I finally break down and it leads me to the Book of Joshua about whom I know nothing. My study Bible indicates that I should read up on his life in Exodus and Numbers, so I do and this is a basic rundown of what I learn:
Joshua basically becomes one of Moses' right hand guys when the Israelites are wandering through the desert.
Can I take a time-out for just a second? I so appreciate that the Israelites are God's chosen people. They were obviously not chosen for merit. I mean, God frees them from slavery in Egypt and then when there isn't food, God makes bread rain down from Heaven. Literally bread falls from the sky and all they have to do is pick it up from the ground. So then they complain that there isn't enough of a variety of food and that they were better off as slaves in Egypt. When Moses goes up to Mount Sinai for a couple of weeks, they decide that God has abandoned them and make a calf out of gold and worship it thanking it for freeing them from slavery. They, who have seen bread fall from the sky, make a freaking calf out of gold and worship it and complain about not being slaves anymore. Thank you, God, for choosing the Israelites because if You can make something out of them, then You can make something out of me.
Back to Joshua. When Moses dies, God chooses Joshua to replace him. Although the written conversation in Joshua chapter 1 is pretty one-sided, it seems to indicate that Joshua is rather hesitant about the job because God tells him, "Do not let this Book of the Law depart from your mouth; meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do everything written in it. Then you will be prosperous and successful. Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go." (Joshua 1:8-9)
Okay, fine. I'm still not sure about this, but I definitely felt the stick on that one.
Maybe next time I should duck.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Best Job Application Question
As you know, I have been "funemployed" this summer. Also known as unemployed. I have enjoyed my time off tremendously. It was a much needed and very restful break.
And now I am CrAzY.
I don't do not being busy well. I never have. I get irritable and insane (sorry, Josh).
So, I opened an account with USA Jobs (the hiring search engine and application service for the federal government) and filled out a few applications. While answering questions for one, I stumbled across this little gem:
"Have you successfully dealt with a disruption to regular operations in a way that allowed for completion of the work or continuation of a noncritical service?"
And I laughed hysterically. If I were to get an interview, I would have to have Josh practice with me repeatedly.
Have I dealt with a disruption? Where should I start?
Let's see. I was teaching Pre-K and the class was assembled on the carpet. We were singing some song or other about counting or the alphabet, when Sahara started projectile vomiting everywhere. No friends, projectile vomit is not confined to The Exorcist. It is a real, disgusting thing. I think she hit the carpet, the tile, the bathroom floor and the toilet (the actual toilet, not in the toilet) six times before I was able to aim her in the toilet. Then, once she was successfully dispatched to the nurse (with trash can in hand), we resumed the lesson while waiting for Mr. Bustamante (best custodian ever) to come clean up the room.
Oh bodily fluids.
We had another day when Jeannette became suddenly and seriously ill. She had been fine, then suddenly started vomitting on her desk. I don't know if it surprised her or what, but there was no attempt to even reach the trash can or alert me to the onset of the situation. But the desk is quickly vomit covered. So, we get her headed in the direction of the nurse and I page the office to let them know that we need some clean-up action, which they assure me will happen soon. Does anyone come? No. So we must vacate that part of the room and continue learning. With the vomit congealing on the desk. Yay.
Another time I sent a kid with a vomitty trash can to the nurse and the child went home, but the trash can was returned with vomit to my classroom. Because I really wanted that.
Okay, I will leave the gross disruption stories for now. Poor Josh was regaled with stories and information about lice the other night, but I think that I've probably grossed you out enough for this post. Lesson, though? Kids and their body fluids are gross.
Oh! Who remembers Chucky Baby? Remember that his mom called him, "Sexy?" (Check the earlier posts, circa 2008, if you don't know what I'm talking about.) Once, the kids had to create stick horses in honor of the rodeo. A lot of my kids struggled to express themselves orally well and so we did "presentations" of our stick horses. The presentation consisted of stating the horse's name and his or her favorite thing to do. Most horses enjoyed eating McDonald's and playing at the McDonald's playground and there were a variety of names. Then, little Miranda gets up and announces that her horse's name is "Sexy." Which results in an all-out outburst from Jose aka Chucky Baby aka Sexy, who screams from the carpet, "NO!!! HE'S NOT SEXY! I'M SEXY! I'M SEXY!" What do I have to do? Stop outburst, resume teaching, try not to laugh hysterically.
That child alone accounts for many disruptions. At some point, he was banned from the carpet and acquired his own personal desk and chair behind the carpet. This was accompanied by a square of masking tape in which he was required to stay during carpet time. He could do anything he wanted in the square as long as he was quiet, participated and stayed in the square. That is, until, we had to define "anything" to exclude putting his chair on top of the desk and sitting in it.
Hmmm...any other disruptions?
Now my second year, I had this kid DJ who was beyond trying. He is largely the reason that none of my future children will have any name that can be shortened into an initial plus a J. It may even be that none of them can have a j in their name. However, here's a positive and funny DJ story:
I'm teaching something third grade related. It's a math lesson of some sort, nothing special really. It's likely a multiplication review or something similarly drab. But it's enthralling enough for DJ who stands up midlesson, raises his hand heavenward and yells, "Thank you, Jesus! Teach it Ms. Stacy! Yeah, Jesus! Preach it, Ms. Stacy!" Stifling (barely) laughter, the lesson continues.
Once I was reading a story, sitting in my rocking chair at the front of the room. It's No David, so it's kind of an exciting story, especially when David escapes from the bathtub and goes running stark naked down the street (this is, of course, accompanied by four-year-old commentary, including, "I can see his little colita!"). But really, I'm not sure what warrants this reaction. I'm wearing open-toed shoes (which I learn are not good for this particular job. who knew?) and Aaron bends over mid-story and bites my toe. Really? What choice do I have but continue the lesson? After, of course, the principal who happened to be observing, escorts Aaron from the room. Whereupon he bites her. This was Aaron's last day of Pre-K.
So many more stories. But, for now, I am tired and will continue again in another post.
Maybe next time I will start with lice instead of vomit. ;) Just kidding.
Maybe.
And now I am CrAzY.
I don't do not being busy well. I never have. I get irritable and insane (sorry, Josh).
So, I opened an account with USA Jobs (the hiring search engine and application service for the federal government) and filled out a few applications. While answering questions for one, I stumbled across this little gem:
"Have you successfully dealt with a disruption to regular operations in a way that allowed for completion of the work or continuation of a noncritical service?"
And I laughed hysterically. If I were to get an interview, I would have to have Josh practice with me repeatedly.
Have I dealt with a disruption? Where should I start?
Let's see. I was teaching Pre-K and the class was assembled on the carpet. We were singing some song or other about counting or the alphabet, when Sahara started projectile vomiting everywhere. No friends, projectile vomit is not confined to The Exorcist. It is a real, disgusting thing. I think she hit the carpet, the tile, the bathroom floor and the toilet (the actual toilet, not in the toilet) six times before I was able to aim her in the toilet. Then, once she was successfully dispatched to the nurse (with trash can in hand), we resumed the lesson while waiting for Mr. Bustamante (best custodian ever) to come clean up the room.
Oh bodily fluids.
We had another day when Jeannette became suddenly and seriously ill. She had been fine, then suddenly started vomitting on her desk. I don't know if it surprised her or what, but there was no attempt to even reach the trash can or alert me to the onset of the situation. But the desk is quickly vomit covered. So, we get her headed in the direction of the nurse and I page the office to let them know that we need some clean-up action, which they assure me will happen soon. Does anyone come? No. So we must vacate that part of the room and continue learning. With the vomit congealing on the desk. Yay.
Another time I sent a kid with a vomitty trash can to the nurse and the child went home, but the trash can was returned with vomit to my classroom. Because I really wanted that.
Okay, I will leave the gross disruption stories for now. Poor Josh was regaled with stories and information about lice the other night, but I think that I've probably grossed you out enough for this post. Lesson, though? Kids and their body fluids are gross.
Oh! Who remembers Chucky Baby? Remember that his mom called him, "Sexy?" (Check the earlier posts, circa 2008, if you don't know what I'm talking about.) Once, the kids had to create stick horses in honor of the rodeo. A lot of my kids struggled to express themselves orally well and so we did "presentations" of our stick horses. The presentation consisted of stating the horse's name and his or her favorite thing to do. Most horses enjoyed eating McDonald's and playing at the McDonald's playground and there were a variety of names. Then, little Miranda gets up and announces that her horse's name is "Sexy." Which results in an all-out outburst from Jose aka Chucky Baby aka Sexy, who screams from the carpet, "NO!!! HE'S NOT SEXY! I'M SEXY! I'M SEXY!" What do I have to do? Stop outburst, resume teaching, try not to laugh hysterically.
That child alone accounts for many disruptions. At some point, he was banned from the carpet and acquired his own personal desk and chair behind the carpet. This was accompanied by a square of masking tape in which he was required to stay during carpet time. He could do anything he wanted in the square as long as he was quiet, participated and stayed in the square. That is, until, we had to define "anything" to exclude putting his chair on top of the desk and sitting in it.
Hmmm...any other disruptions?
Now my second year, I had this kid DJ who was beyond trying. He is largely the reason that none of my future children will have any name that can be shortened into an initial plus a J. It may even be that none of them can have a j in their name. However, here's a positive and funny DJ story:
I'm teaching something third grade related. It's a math lesson of some sort, nothing special really. It's likely a multiplication review or something similarly drab. But it's enthralling enough for DJ who stands up midlesson, raises his hand heavenward and yells, "Thank you, Jesus! Teach it Ms. Stacy! Yeah, Jesus! Preach it, Ms. Stacy!" Stifling (barely) laughter, the lesson continues.
Once I was reading a story, sitting in my rocking chair at the front of the room. It's No David, so it's kind of an exciting story, especially when David escapes from the bathtub and goes running stark naked down the street (this is, of course, accompanied by four-year-old commentary, including, "I can see his little colita!"). But really, I'm not sure what warrants this reaction. I'm wearing open-toed shoes (which I learn are not good for this particular job. who knew?) and Aaron bends over mid-story and bites my toe. Really? What choice do I have but continue the lesson? After, of course, the principal who happened to be observing, escorts Aaron from the room. Whereupon he bites her. This was Aaron's last day of Pre-K.
So many more stories. But, for now, I am tired and will continue again in another post.
Maybe next time I will start with lice instead of vomit. ;) Just kidding.
Maybe.
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