Back Again

I need to start writing again. Seriously. Have I mentioned before that I really do want to write? Books, articles, journal entries…I don’t really care. I just know that it’s something I’m good at (this particular post is probably not the best example, seeing as how it’s nearly 2 AM) and something I love…too much to completely waste on lesson plans alone. So again, I come back to the same question: where do I start? Honestly, I have nothing terribly exciting to write about. At the moment, I have this idea brewing in the back of my mind…one that’s fairly unrealistic, but maaaybe possible. I really do want to get myself published in the English Journal, NCTE’s professional journal for secondary ELA teachers. I have the start of an article already, one about how communication technology has changed the way students use language and how we can embrace these changes rather than try to “fix” them. Ok, so I’m sure this does not sound even remotely interesting to any person with a shred of sanity left in them, but I am thrilled. At this point, that’s the only tangible idea I can see that has even the slightest possibility of coming to fruition. And it’s a good start, really. Actually being able to say that I’ve been published in a professional journal would be pretty awesome (and look fantastic on a resume!), but I don’t want it to stop there. While I definitely care about writing instruction and all things education-related, I so want to write about something that’s slightly more human, you know?

I’ve already established that fiction is simply not going to work for me. I can string words together well enough, but I just do not have the creative ability to completely make up characters, plots, conflicts, resolutions etc. etc. all on my own. I don’t believe I would get past the first chapter. I’ve also determined that I cannot write about anything that I have not personally experienced. Maybe it’s a mental block, but it just feels too dishonest and freezes my words and ideas so that I truly cannot go anywhere that I haven’t really gone. This narrows down my options quite a bit. I laughed when Stacey told me to “Just write about your life,” to which I promptly responded, “And who would want to read that?!” Bless her heart, she assured me that she would, of course, if only to have a more detailed description of how I was complete slacker and procrastinator as early as kindergarten (long story, maybe one for another night).

Here’s what I DO know: this desire I have to write is not a new one. It may have been lying dormant for a little while, but sooner or later, it always comes back to this. And I always find myself asking the same questions…Where to start? What to write? You know what I think? I think that God places dreams and desires within our hearts for a very specific purpose, and that purpose will always be to glorify His name in some way or another. I don’t know how the Lord wants me to use this dream for Him, but I’m planning on asking.

You know, I really cannot remember the last time I read an entire book in a day. I'm usually extremely sensitive to the fact when I'm reading not just for enjoyment, but because there's really nothing else to do...in fact, as soon as I become too aware of the fact that reading is the only thing I have to occupy my time, I put the book down. It's that obligation thing again...it messes with my head every time.

But that's really beside the point at the moment. All I really wanted to say is that for the fist time in a long while, I plowed through an entire book (albeit a kind of short one...it was no 800 page Harry Potter book or anything) almost in one sitting last night. The Chosen One by Carol Lynch Williams is one of the books I got while I was at NCTE. I'm really not good at talking about a story's plot without giving too much away, so all I'll say is that it's about a 13-year-old girl (Kyra Leigh Carlson) living in a polygamist compound who has been "chosen" to become her 60-year-old uncle's seventh wife. Wow...in addition to the extremely fast-paced and heart wrenching story, Kyra's character so accurately portrays the thoughts and feelings of a young teenager--the complicated mixture of her bold determination to search for truth, her steadfast devotion and love to her family, the guilt of her "sins", and her desperate need to escape a community that thrives on obedience born out of fear.

Here's the thing though...this isn't just a story from one author's overactive imagination. While the specific events and characters from this book are fictional, polygamist cults are very real, brainwashing their members into doing unspeakable evil. Check out this article from fox news: http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,346959,00.html . That was in 2008...a little too recent to simply ignore, don't you think?

It makes me so grateful for our God who is good, merciful, righteous, full of unfailing love and compassion. Others may try to manipulate His word, but in the end, Truth will always win out.

Christmas Spirit?

The silence in this apartment is absolutely deafening. It's finals week...we're stressed, frustrated, impatient, and TIRED. You would think that the culmination of these thing would add up to exasperated outbursts, loud rants and raves about the misery of exams, or at the very least a couple of friendly arguments over whatever silly things that roommates argue about (dishes? taking out the trash? I'm a little clueless here, since we are not the arguing type), but no. It all adds up to a silence so heavy and penetrating, that it's all I can do just to keep myself from running away. It's not that I like noise necessarily, but I definitely like to have something going on in the background...just to remind me that I don't live in a tomb.

It's almost Christmas, and here we are with our just recently decorated apartment (ok, we only got as far as the fireplace and some lights strung feebly along the railing of the balcony, but it's a start!), and no other perceivable bit of Christmas spirit or holiday cheer to go along with it. I'm sad to say it, but I think this must mean that I've grown up. Christmas cookies and jingle bells simply aren't enough to replace the stress of being a college senior with the excitement of the current season. I hate that I have lost this sense of joy, but what I hate more is that I don't really know how to regain it. I realize that the fact that I'm no longer in grade school has something to do with this, but shouldn't the mystery of Christmas--Christ coming to Earth as one of us--still bring joy to my heart and cause me to stop and wonder at the mystery of it all? The sheer magnitude of such an act...for God to become human, to live this sometimes weary life, knowing all along that He would have to die a most excruciating death to save the ones that put Him on the cross in the first place.

My Christmas prayer is that I be reunited with that joy and wonder...that my heart might be constantly amazed at the gift He came to give us all. Lord Jesus, please give me a more sincere heart to accept this gift from You. I pray that my actions and attitude might glorify You and lift You up, pointing others toward Your ceaseless love. May praises and prayers of thanksgiving constantly reside on my lips. In Jesus' name, AMEN.

So I guess I completely fail at doing ANYTHING consistently...writing on a daily basis included. I don't know if it's the fact that I feel like I have nothing of any real significance to say (seriously, how many times can I talk about finals and lesson plans?) or the mere hint of obligation I feel to keep this thing updated. I swear, as soon as I make the slightest shift from wanting to do something to feeling like maybe I should, all of my self-discipline flies right out the window. Like reading...I may very well have read some of those "classics" all on my own and LOVED them, but because a teacher was telling me that I had to read them because they were just plain important...I got a little rebellious. Maybe that's understandable and even halfway acceptable in high school, but seriously?!...You would think that after spending 4 years being completely self-sufficient and making my own decisions, I would not experience such unwilling resistance to anything that holds any measure of obligation. I should be able to just suck it up and finish what I started. But no.

See, that's another little issue I have. I simply cannot finish one thing before starting another. Again, this is demonstrated all too well by my reading habits. I'll be halfway through one book before deciding that I just have to start this other one that has been sitting on my shelf for months. Or I'll make out a to-do list for myself, and rather than making my way down the list one at a time, I do bits pieces of each thing sporadically, never really making any real progress. What's worse though, is that I'm all too aware of my tendency to simply give up mid-way through a project simply because I've had enough of it. I was born without the gene that makes you finish something just because you want to see it completed. I started reading The Book Thief a few weeks ago and was totally sucked it...I couldn't get enough! I spent all of my free time working my way through this book...until I got to the last 50 or so pages. I had had enough. So now it's sitting on my floor, almost read but not quite, and to be honest...I don't have any intention of picking it up again.

WHAT is it about me that keeps me from having the ability to successfully complete any task, project, or challenge in an efficient manner?! Is it a mental block? Is it just something that I've been telling myself for so many years that is has actually manifested itself in my day-to-day life, or am I really just incapable of establishing and keeping routines and habits?

I'm beginning to think that the only consistent "habit" I will ever be capable of sustaining is my dire need for my morning coffee fix.

Ok, so I've already fallen off the wagon with my whole writing every day business. For whatever reason, yesterday was just ridiculously crazy and exhausting. Nothing out of the ordinary was going on really (although I was initiated into the New Moon cult...Christy and Stacey took me to see the movie last night, and I'm sad to say that I just can't work up quite as much enthusiasm as everyone else). Maybe it was just the prospect of heading back to Andrews for the next few days that just plain wears me down. Nothing against my parents...I love them dearly, but like I mentioned in an earlier post, I just can't quite associate that place with "home" anymore.

Enough of my complaints. In the spirit of Thanksgiving (AND since the parents don't have internet, so I can't do this tomorrow), I feel like I need to remind myself how good I have it. So here goes...I'm thankful for

1) Jesus and His pursuit of me even when I'm sitting still
2) Family who I've grown to love and actually get along with as I've gotten older
3) The chance to teach, inspire, love, and comfort
4) BOOKS
5) Wonderful friends who are constant reminders of joy

I could go on, but I would probably get carried away. I'll leave it there for now...short and sweet.

Day 3--???

Ok. I'm on day 3, and I'm already out of things to say. The only thing I can possibly think to write about involves detailed explanations of my thematic unit and descriptions of all the papers I have yet to grade. I'm trying really hard not to go there right now.

I'll just go ahead and say that I'm glad to be home. It's funny to me that "home" now officially means the 3 bedroom apartment I share with 2 wonderful roommates. Christy and Stacey picked me up from the airport yesterday afternoon, and it felt good to have them there waiting for me with hugs, eagerly (or at least patiently) awaiting my nerdy stories about English teacher related things. Thank God for such good friends that humor me in all of my craziness.

Day 2

Ok, so my new "dedication" must really be taking off if I'm up at ten to 7 blogging :) Not really...I have to leave in about 40 minutes to catch a train to the airport. Doesn't that just sound so grown up? "I have to catch my train..." I found myself in a series of those kinds of experiences while I was traveling to NCTE this weekend. Like when I explained to the gate agent that I was traveling to a professional conference and really needed to make sure that the delays in Charlotte didn't cause me to miss my connecting flight to Philly. Or when I was casually chatting with Sarah Dessen's book editor about the kind of fiction I wanted to have in my classroom. Or then there the was the moment in the airport when I was sitting quietly grading papers to pass the time (we were delayed for 2-3 hours, and surprisingly enough...I only graded a couple of them) and I suddenly found myself engaged in quite the conversation with a college professor from Ohio about how 8th grade achievement is the single most significant factor in determining if kids will attend college or not. We were looking at this article and discussing graphs and data and everything! Gosh, I am such a nerd sometimes.

Who knows what kind of bizarre experiences I'll have on the trip back.

By the way, I've decided that I'm going to try this whole writing every day thing for at least a month. So this is officially day 2 :)

Back Again

So, I'm back...and this time, I'm challenging myself to be more committed. Not necessarily more committed to the blog, but more committed to writing something each and every day, even if it's only a sentence or 2. I guess that's what I get for going to a teacher's conference in Philadelphia all weekend. I'm still here actually, reveling in so many wonderful ideas, resources, and influential people. I found myself going mostly to sessions that featured young adult authors, and I think that was more valuable than any kind of curriculum instruction stuff I could have seen. The last session I went to was a panel of authors (Laure Halse Anderson included) who all spoke about how they use blogs to reach their readers. Readers...I want to have readers! People who visit my humble little piece of the web regularly just to see what I have to say. That's probably a far-fetched idea, so for now, I'm content to just get some of my ramblings down in print for random strangers to stumble across by chance.

In my quest to try writing every day, I feel like I'm in danger of becoming weighed down, writing only about books and lesson plans. Right now, it's all I really know. Life beyond my future career in the classroom really does not exist at its fullest at this particular moment. So--before I make a serious effort to branch out beyond what kind of grammar instruction I've found has been the most successful and other subjects of that nature, I'm going to enjoy one last (for now) unadulterated student teacher-centered post.

Today I met Sarah Dessen, a young adult author who is hugely popular among teenage girls. I've read only one of her books, Someone Like You, and I enjoyed it, but to be honest, it didn't exactly change my life or anything like that. Even so, I was so THRILLED at the prospect of meeting her in person. Sarah Dessen's blog is one of the reasons I'm challenging myself to become a more committed writer. Because she posts so faithfully (and I read it quite religiously), I feel like I know her on a personal level. When I actually listened to her speak in a session about girls coming of age, I felt as if I were listening to an old friend. I felt somewhat prideful as she so gracefully accepted the heartfelt praise and answered sincere questions of several admiring teachers...she so effortlessly lived up to my expectations.

You want to hear something else really cool? Before attending that session, I was at her publisher's booth in the exhibition hall (LOTS of books + free stuff + author signings = HEAVEN) browsing through some of her titles. I knew she would be signing later in the day, and I needed something for her to sign! A woman working in that booth started talking to me about which books were her favorites, and we were chatting away about my future in the classroom and how I really wanted to become more familiar with Sarah's books because I knew how popular they are. Long story short, I wanted a particular book, but the only copies left were for display only. This absolutely lovely woman quietly sneaked a copy into my bag, and she would not accept any payment. I was delightfully surprised and grateful for her helpfulness and generosity! Only later did I find out that I had been speaking with Sarah Dessen's book editor. Wow. The kind of people you rub elbows with (or is the expression "rub shoulders" ?) at NCTE.

In short, spending so much time among fantastic teachers and real, successful authors has inspired me to once again find the writer within myself. And as any decent (or at least aspiring) English teacher would tell you, we are all writers. Even if the only writing we do in a day consists of sending a series of text messages, sprinkled with cryptic and once-foreign expressions like "lol", "ttyl", and of course, "OMG!". Honestly, I still cannot get over this whole "text language". What's wrong with typing out a full sentence? I'm sure more people than ever have unlimited texting plans these days, so it really shouldn't be an issue. Ugh...I digress. So anyway, I would encourage you--whoever you are, whether we know each other or you just happened to stumble across this blog, to try writing just a little bit every day and see where it leads you. I'm pretty excited...I'm expecting some cool stuff to happen :)

Procrastination

I have a 3-week thematic unit awaiting my attention, so I felt like now was a good time to start bringing out all of my tools of procrastination...blogging included. I seem to have gotten a better sense of control since the last time I wrote. For whatever reason, I had a breakthrough last weekend. I packed up all of my stuff and went to sit in Barnes and Noble for maybe an hour or so to plan lessons for the upcoming weeks. Since then, I've become obsessed with organization, lists, and catching up on all of the stuff that has been dragging me down for the past semester.

I honestly think my life is far too boring at this point to say anything else...I don't really have an interesting stories or updates. I at least succeeded in the whole procrastination thing for a good 5 minutes before finding something else to take up my lesson-planning time :)

Why can't I possibly seem to catch up on life these days? I need a pause button...or a fast-forward button, one of the two.

Venting

I need an outlet, and since I'm pretty sure that not too many people actually read this blog, I think this is a semi-safe place. Once again, I feel like I have reached the end of my rope (it keeps getting shorter and shorter)...so soon in the semester too. I can't seem to keep it all together; things keep on slipping through the cracks--organization, assignments, punctuality--I no longer have the mental or emotional capacity to make it all happen anymore. What's worse, I don't know how to fix it.

Then there's this little issue of my car...the car with the bad transmission that will supposedly cost $2500 to repair. I have no idea where that money is going to come from, but my once-drivable vehicle is quickly deteriorating into a useless piece of hot metal, and I have the feeling that I will soon find myself without any form of reliable transportation. I truly have no idea what the next step should be...student loans aren't practical (no co-signer), help from parents isn't exactly feasible at the moment, credit card won't handle this big of a job, and if I try to start working enough hours to pay for this fix, I think I will quickly lose my sanity and flunk out of school. Again...I just can't seem to keep everything under control.

Add to all of this craziness my mysterious H1N1 type symptoms (but no fever, so it's all good), and I am officially a wreck.

Repairs

It's storming outside tonight. From my bedroom, I can hear the rain coming in through our kitchen ceiling and dripping obnoxiously into a plastic mixing bowl that's sitting in the middle of the floor. Along with the leaky ceiling, our kitchen boasts a broken garbage disposal and a dishwasher that floods the entire floor within the first 5 minutes of being turned on. The office doesn't seem too concerned, which has been OK, since we know how to survive washing our own dishes and avoiding the garbage disposal switch (because if we turn it on longer than a few seconds, the motor burns up, and our whole apartment smells like dying feet). But a leaky ceiling, I cannot deal with.

Did I mention that my lovely car--the one that had so many issues over the summer--has now decided to quit on me again? This time it's the transmission. I don't know much about cars, but I KNOW this is a bad thing. Obviously, none of these things can be fixed at 1:30 in the morning, so I'm calling it a night and going to bed.

Just a Little Update

I have a HUGE apartment shared with AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL roommates :)

I've decided that I don't have to have perfect knowledge of my content area to be a phenomenal teacher as long as I love and care for my students with everything I have in me.

I'm currently enrolled in a "social dance" class (mostly ballroom) that should prove to be my great stress reliever during the week.

We're on a roll already this year with Alpha Omega, and I can't wait to see what God does!

In approximately 10 minutes, I will be heading out the door and making my way to Northwestern High School where I'll introduce myself to a teacher who I dearly hope will be a positive mentor for me for the rest of the semester.

Lots of big stuff (and little stuff), but God's in all of it :)

Summer Discoveries

1) I don't think I'll ever regret that I chose to forgo the rockstar lifestyle (because, you know...I've had that opportunity so many times ;-) ). My very short time on the road this summer was enough to make me grateful that my future career will not involve quite so much traveling. I love to travel, but it's far too exhausting to do continuously...especially with 2 babies.

2) The next time I buy a car, it will be from a dealer with a warranty. The mysterious stalling problem still cannot be fixed, and we don't see the light within the next 2 days, I might just be walking to SC.

3) A food diary does no good unless you use it. Do I really need to expand on this one?

4) I'm now at the age where people can make the legitimate mistake of thinking I'm the mother of the children I watch...SCARY! I guess it doesn't help that Lucas's favorite word is "mommy" (even if he's addressing his dump truck), so I get a lot of "Mommy!"s thrown my way.

5) Blogging is lovely, but a theme of some sort would make it much easier an consistent.

6) I have decided that middle school might be a better fit for me (see post: life update).

7) If I were ever to write a novel, I believe the chosen genre would be young adult fiction because here's the thing...

8) I have learned that I rarely write to tell a story; I write to convey emotion...and what is the basis of adolescent lit. if not emotion?!

9) I don't really understand the point of twitter, although I've been so desperate for alternate forms of communication (3 months in Indiana can do that to a person...) that I've created an account (you can follow me @jfoxw04)!

10) The relationship that I fought so hard to save wasn't really worth saving. Even though I'm still adjusting, I can see that I will be much better off in the long run.

11) I'm not ready to be a teacher. In fact, I'm not sure this will be the dream job I've been waiting for.

12) Sometimes it's best to love people from a distance...

13) But not Jesus...on that note, I am the laziest person I know (see post: wasted time).

14) I'm turning 21 in 1 day, and I still do not feel like a "grown-up." Will I ever?!

15) Jesus still loves me dearly and pursues me even though I've pretty much ignored our relationship for the entire summer. I won't make any excuses for myself...because there are absolutely no legitimate ones.

16) I seem to have developed an immunity to coffee or maybe even caffeine in general, so on that note, I'm going to go to sleep...only a few short hours before I'll be helping Heather unpack her classroom in the morning and then chasing babies for the rest of the day!

Rocking Chairs

When I was little (back in my Wisconsin days), we had a recliner/rocking chair....a tattered old thing with a revolting pattern of hollowed out circles sporting different shades of mucky brown splashed across a wide strip of the seat and the back. Despite its distasteful appearance (nothing in our house was exactly tasteful, per se), my mom and I always always seemed to gravitate towards that chair in the evenings. I'm not sure whether she intended for me to plant myself on top of her every time she sat down, but that's what I did...almost every night, it seems. We would rock back and forth until both of us were out cold. Most nights, we didn't even bother to get up and go to bed...we would stay piled up in that chair until morning.

Today, several years later, I have discovered that a lot of the time, sitting in a rocking chair is the only thing that can calm me down when I'm having an ultra-stressed meltdown. Throughout the school year, I would find myself making my way to the porch of Joins so I could claim one of the many rocking chairs that sits outside and faces the rest of campus. The longer I sit, the more relaxed I become, and I swear I can feel stress and worry just leaking out of me as long as I'm still rocking.

This memory of the broken down recliner was the first thing that passed through my head during my still half-asleep state this morning. Sounds silly, but maybe it was a way of reminding myself what I need to do to calm myself down during the coming months of stress. Despite my best intentions, taking a deep breath, counting to ten, or even praying for peace, doesn't always do the trick. Sometimes I simply need a physical manifestation of the calm. So I'm thinking...maybe I should invest when I get to the last of my furniture shopping for the new apartment. :)

Wasted Time

I have become far too attached to my amazon wish list these days. I've just recently started actively using this list to keep track of the books I'm planning to read, but my obsession with "catching up" on what's out there in children's and young adult fiction has now morphed into a strange need to build up lists of potential shoe purchases as well as furniture, appliances, clothing, and other accessories. I can spend hours at a time browsing store websites and adding all manner of things to my wish list that I truly have no need (and possibly no real desire) for, but I get an odd thrill out pushing the "add to list" button that's now bookmarked on my toolbar. There you have it ladies and gentleman...the remainder of my summer summed up in only 2 words: virtual shopping.

Then there are nights not unlike this one, where I ask myself, "Why?". Why, with so much free time on my hands, do I insist on squandering it all away on meaningless activities that are not even close to productive or enriching. Seriously, I spend more time creating book lists than I do actually reading the books that I buy. And then there's all of that writing I wanted to do...the pages of notes I've taken over the past few weeks with real ideas and inspiration that I've been waiting a long time for. One would think that I may be motivated to write more, especially when I have a virtually non-existent social life at the moment. But the piles of unread books on the shelf and the unwritten letters and stories are not even close to significant compared to the other things I've been neglecting.

I won't lie and say that I haven't been a bit lonely here and there throughout the summer. It's hard to be away from the people I have come to be so close to over the years, despite the fact that I am surrounded with a whole heap of others who have done their best to make me feel at home for the time I'm here. The fact that they are all at least a decade older than me is irrelevant. What matters is that I've ignored, time and time again, a golden opportunity to draw even closer to the Father. On the nights I've been "shopping" from my bedroom out of boredom or reading books I don't really care about...the nights when I may have felt more than a little depressed to be so far away from the friends who have come to mean so much to me recently, I could have been opening myself up, allowing God to continue working on my heart, comforting me as only He can. And yet, I've sat so still, not even daring to make the move that I know is so necessary, so essential for my spiritual health. From the beginning of the summer, I have struggled with this sense of apathy, and here I am at the end...still in the same place. Wasted time, indeed.

Of course I'm not saying that this summer hasn't been special, valuable, or unforgettable. But what matters most in my relationship with Him, the One I promised to love, to praise, to glorify with every fiber of my being, and I've ignored that promise, choosing instead to let my faith lie dormant, never manifesting itself in action. Father forgive me, and instill in me a sense of urgency, a desperate need to grow closer, to know You as I never have before.

Finding Old Friends

Here I am, talking like a book nerd again...but you have no idea how liberating it has been to admit to myself that the high school classroom may not be the place for me. I enjoy children's literature far too much to abandon it in favor of the required classics that I have to force myself to read let alone enjoy. I mean seriously...when a supposedly dedicated English major would rather turn to sparknotes more often that actually reading the novels, that should be a sign.

Now that I have come to the realization that I would rather work with an age group where I can concentrate on motivating kids to read for the pure pleasure of it rather that force-feeding them Shakespeare, I have allowed myself to feel even more strongly connected to the books I read as a child. At one point a couple of weeks ago, I started to panic when the thought crossed my mind that I am SO behind in what kids are reading these days. I've been too caught up in figuring out how to get around reading the entire list of required novels for all of my lit classes that I of course had no time to start browsing lists of recommended reading for young adults. Since then, my evenings (and sometimes late nights) have included endless hours of perusing amazon for latest and greatest in adolescent lit. I've also spent a great deal of time searching for the books I once considered my friends. Authors like Beverly Cleary (who I've already discussed at length) Kit Pearson, Margaret Peterson Haddix, Joan Lowry Nixon have been my top priority as I've scrolled through pages of book reviews and plot summaries.

I would love any suggestions from anyone who might be a bit more up to speed with middle school book lists (Briana, I need your help on this one!). I feel like I need to catch up!

Too Tired for Full Sentences

Just got back from a week of traveling up and down the East coast (with 2 babies)....caught a nasty little cold that's trying to take me down...leaving AGAIN to go to Colorado for the next few days...needing SLEEP.

Life Update

It has been a while since I've attempted to update the blog. For whatever reason, I'm having the hardest time writing anything at all, and when I sit down at my computer, I stare at the blank screen for about 10-15 minutes before concluding that it's not even worth it. So I'm trying a different method tonight and actually getting it all down on real paper first. My thoughts seem to come much more freely and without interruption when I'm faced with a forgiving spiral notebook rather than the empty text box that appears on my blogger homepage.

So...life has been both moving in crazy directions and becoming quite stagnant at the same time. Not exactly sure how that works, but I guess I'm talented that way. First and most exciting, is my job this summer. I don't really know how it happened, but I have landed the mother of all nanny gigs. Who knew that celebrities would actually use craigslist to hire domestic help? I mean...it hasn't exactly gotten the greatest publicity recently. Basically, one of John Mellencamp's band members (the lead guitarist) has young kids and needed a nanny who was willing to accompany them during parts of the summer tour. We've been keeping busy in Bloomington so far, but the next few weeks will consist of day trips to see shows in Kentucky and Ohio, and then we're off to the east coast for a bit. It's pretty crazy. I feel like I belong in some kind of chick-lit novel like The Devil Wears Prada--ordinary girl finds herself employed by some famous person and spends her time flying on private planes with superstar celebrities (ok, so I already mentioned the plane thing on facebook once, but I think I have some bragging rights on this one). Thankfully, I'm treated much better than the main character in that particular book/movie. I feel like I'm on of the family, really.

In other news, I've done a fairly good job of learning my way around Bloomington, and I've even gotten the hang of the dreaded one-way streets. It is such an interesting city with the most bizarre combination of people, businesses, and causes. There truly is something for everone and yet I still cannot picture myself living her permenantly. It has always been a vacation destination fo sorts for me...I've been coming here to visit Heather for the past 10 years, and I think the chances are good that I will always be a visitor rather than a resident (although I wouldn't mind taking Avers Pizza back home with me...that stuff is AMAZING!).

What else? I have been trying hard to catch up on my reading list, but I'm afraid it's a losing battle. Right now I'm on a kick where all I want to read are the children's books that so captivated me when I was younger. I know I'm getting a degree in secondary education, but I'm learning that my real passion in its truest form lies in children's literature. At the risk of sounding like a complete dork, there's a scene in You've Got Mail when Meg Ryan's character, the owner of a children's bookstore, passionately declares: "When you read a book as a child, it becomes a part of your identity the way no other reading in your life does." I didn't realize until a few days ago that that line had stuck with me so long until I finally saw how much truth it carries. We all know that children are impressionable, and reading a good book at a young age (for me it was any Ramona Quimby book by Beverly Cleary) often leaves a deeper impression than any classic piece of literature that we force older students to read. I can remember almost every detail of Ramona and Her Mother and recount to you all the ways in which I felt that I was just like Ramona Quimby, but it would take a great deal of effort to discuss with that much passion the literature that has been deemed "important" and "worthy" by the literary gurus that us English majors are supposed to love and respect. Why is this? Because Ramona Quimby has become a part of me. I had copies that had been read so many times, the covers were falling off and the pages falling out. I would bury myself into those selfsame pages in order to drown out whatever drama was happening around me, and as a result, I got sucked into her fictional world, pulled in as if I belong with her and her "normal" family rather than my chaotic one. I remember reading books as a 12 or 13-year-old and feeling overwhelmingly relieved to identify with a character who was misunderstood, lonely, or longing to fit more easily into her surroundings. I gobbled them up, absolutely desperate to know that I wasn't the only one. That's why I've returned to some of those old favorites, trying to experience their power and magic once again. And just like that--about 10 minutes ago, in fact--I realized that I might be better suited for middle school. When I really think about it, I've always been drawn to that age group; I've just always had the idea that someone else could do it better. Now I'm starting to wonder...

I had planned on hitting a few more topics before I finished for the night, but my hand is getting cramped from writing, and I'm feeling some Jesus time coming on to help me sort through this newest dilemma. Maybe I've have to include a "Part 2" later on. Wish me luck!

I LOVE My Job!

3 beautiful, well-behaved children + 2 fantastic parents = 1 extremely happy nanny.

These kids are quite possibly the most precious I have yet seen. The baby and toddler are happy and enthusiastic nearly ALL the time...no fussy children in this house! Not only that, but I have somehow managed to gain the favor of a 12-year-old boy...he even taught me 'the secret handshake' my first day on the job and begs me to stay longer or better yet, just not go home at all. I'll spend much of July traveling with the family to a handful of places (mostly east coast) since the dad is a musician and will be on tour for the next 6 weeks.

Yep, life is good!

Battle of the Heart

Every day, we are faced with situations and circumstances that force us to choose between Jesus and the world. Our suffering often threatens to consume us, weakening our spirits and magnifying our difficulties so as to make praising God seem close to impossible. But here is what I have learned...worship--praise--is not only the remedy to our suffering but suffering's harmony. The two go hand and hand, weaving themselves together in a way that lightens the burden, lessens the pain, and brings about a sobering kind of beauty.

Though my heart is broken and my hope shattered, I continue to praise God for Who He is, what He has done, and the promises that He keeps. Paul tells us that the kind of suffering God wants us to endure is the kind that will bring Him glory. I can think of no better way to bring glory to God than to continue to exalt Him and praise His name even in the midst of heartbreak and anguish. So here I am. It's not easy, and my lips don't always have the strength to form words of praise, but my heart is fighting day in and day out to rely completely on His grace and trust in His sovereignty. Though people fail and disappoint us, though promises are broken daily, God's word remains true and His love strong and unfailing. I am clinging to Jesus in desperation, begging Him to salvage some of the broken pieces to create something that pleases Him.

Note to Self

God is good--ALL the time. Even when I'm unemployed...and the month's bills threaten to completely wipe out my bank account. He is faithful. He is sovereign. I have ALL I need according to the riches and glory of Christ Jesus. I am a child of God; He knows how to give good gifts to His children. If He is for me, who can be against me? OVERWHELMING VICTORY is mine through Christ Jesus! He will do exceedingly abundantly over all I could ask or think. I will not worry about anything but pray about everything, telling God what I need and thanking Him for all He has done. I submit myself, my finances, my plans, my desires to Him, trusting in His goodness, grace, and mercy to get me through. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Amen!

I come from a family of procrastinators. Most of the time, I feel like I just need to catch up on my life. After watching Heather and Doug getting ready to go to Italy, I have decided that this must be a genetic trait. They're leaving at 8 AM tomorrow morning, and they just booked all of the accommodations for their 2-week visit a few hours ago. Now they've moved on to the packing stage, and it's currently 10:45 PM.

Although it has not been the most lucrative summer as of yet, I can at least say that my time in Indiana has been entertaining. I'm looking forward to getting into some kind of routine (hopefully one that involves a JOB), so I can feel slightly productive. So far, my time has been spent helping around the house and helping Heather move out of her classroom, but one job opportunity after the next seems to keep falling through, and I'm getting nervous about how things will pan out over the next month or so. There's really not much I can do at this point except to keep trusting God (which in retrospect, I should have been doing from the beginning), and believe that He is good...ALL the time, no matter the circumstances. If I repeat those words enough times, I start to feel the weight lift off of my shoulders.

The Remedy

During an extremely late-night conversation with Allie the other night, she offered the best explanation of apathy that I have ever heard: Apathy is simply "not enough God." Really?! It's that simple? Here I've been thinking that I'm plagued by some rare and incurable disease, when really I'm just running low on the fuel on which my spirit was made to run.

Yes, a wonderfully simple explanation, but the remedy seems to be a bit more complicated. If I know that all I really need is some more quality time with Jesus to bring me out of this place, then why can I not seem to make it a priority, especially with all of this free time on my hands? See, that's the thing about apathy...it seems to fill our shoes with lead, keeping us from taking even the smallest of baby steps that would lead us back to the Father. It clouds our vision and causes our spirits to sleep. It whispers lies to our souls that scare us into a passive state of being, convincing us that to make any effort to become more like Christ and draw near to Him will be rejected, and we will be deemed spiritual failures. So we sit, indifferent to God's movement, presence, plans, and love. If left untreated, this indifference eventually hardens us, breeding bitterness that spreads like poison, arresting our hearts and altering the very foundation of our existence--the knowledge of God's love and our dire need for Him.

Can you tell that I'm becoming pretty familiar with how this works? I'm thankful that, at this point, I have not yet reached that place of bitterness and resentment. Am I actively pursuing God? Up until this moment, I was not.

Hebrews 12:1, a verse that most of us can probably quote backwards and forwards, tells us to "strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up" (NLT). Remember the lead in our shoes that keeps us from moving? We're supposed to GET RID OF IT, not just wait for it to disappear and then complain about how God doesn't "feel close" when we still have not taken any steps towards Him. This requires a conscious decision on our part. While our minds may understand that this needs to happen, I don't believe that our hearts settle on this option automatically, hence its difficulty to carry out.

"...especially the sin that so easily trips us up."
I've always assumed that sin=[obvious] wrong or immoral actions (lying, stealing, lust, etc.), but here's what clicked in my head just the other day. Psalm 138:6 says that God "keeps His distance from the proud." What is apathy if not pride? By remaining passive and choosing to not seek after God, we are essentially saying that we have no true need for Him, and even if we do, He better come to us.

Wow. How differently I see myself and my past struggles now. So what's the remedy to this all together destructive cycle that so easily entangles us? I think it all boils down to choices. In my everyday life, I don't make all of my decisions based upon my feelings. I go to class even when I'm exhausted because I have obligations. I choose to work extra hours because it helps others, not because I feel like getting home a few hours later than planned. Why would I think that my decisions regarding my spiritual relationship should be any different? I do not always feel like I love God or like He loves me, nor do I always feel like my efforts to seek after Him will really bring me any closer to knowing God's true heart. I become trapped by the weight of my emotions (or lack thereof), and I remain still, never daring to take a step toward Him. This is where our choices come in. God asks us to "choose this day whom [we] will serve." Today and every day hereafter, I choose Him...even when I don't feel like it's the best or safest option. In making that choice, I will confess my pride and acknowledge that I have an absolutely desperate need for His love and redemption, an unquenchable thirst that can only be satisfied by His presence in my life.

This is a process, and I can tell you right now that I won't get this right the first time. Do me a favor, and check in on me now and then...ask me how I'm doing. A little accountability can go a long way :)

Familiar Ground

It's really hard for me to get out of the vacation mindset that I'm in right now. I've been coming to Bloomington to see Heather every summer for the past several years, and it has always been a nice blend of fun activities and good old lounging and relaxation. Now that I'm here, there's not a single part of me that is ready to settle into a routine that includes work and productivity. I just can't believe that I'm not leaving in a few days, and it's so hard for me to picture myself actually living here for the next 3 months. Because of the age difference between me and Heather, it has been about 13 years since we've lived in the same house, so this should be interesting! Add a brother-in-law and 2 dogs the size of small horses, and you're in for some real entertainment. If nothing else, this summer will prove to keep me far from boredom.

But that's not really what's on my mind this evening. I've been dealing with this whole apathy thing for the past couple of weeks, and it really does not sit well with me. How quickly I forget God's goodness and the joy and peace He brings when we choose to trust in His faithfulness. But that's the thing...that choice does not always bring about good feelings. Sometimes it brings no feeling at all, which is where I am at this present moment. You know, it sounded great for me to say I was consciously choosing to remain joyful in all things, and for a while it felt great too. But eventually, good feelings fade away, and we're left with the task of following through without the help of the emotional high that we had in the first place. The part of me that is so deeply ensnared in summer vacation mode wants nothing to do with any kind of work, choices, or productivity, all things necessary to maintain a healthy relationship with Jesus. My stomach actually clenches at the thought of trying to work at drawing closer to God. There's a feeling of dread and anxiety that keeps me rooted to this very spot, not wanting to make any sudden movement for fear of realizing that I can't really get to the place I want to be.

I've been here before. This is the cycle that my spiritual life has been running for the past several years now. Time and time again God presents me with this opportunity to choose Him in spite of my feelings or lack thereof. Sometimes I respond more harshly than others, convinced that God dwells in my emotions rather than my heart. I push away from Him, thinking that He chooses to remain distant from me and me alone. Other times, I stay in this apathetic state, in which I simply ignore anything having to do with spiritual growth. Neither one of these options has served me well over the years. By now, I know the drill, and I know that if I allow myself to go back to that place of apathy or resentment, I will be back at square one. All of the work Jesus has done on my heart over the past couple of months will be undone. I know this, so why am I so hesitant to take another step toward Him? As well as I know myself and how I will react in certain situations, there are times when I just don't understand why I am this way. What is it that keeps me bound to this same place?

In keeping with the current spirit of summer, I'm too tired to try to figure it out tonight. I'm hoping that some quality time with Jesus (which I haven't had in quite a while) will help me to break out of this apathetic state and joyfully choose His redemption and love.

I feel like a grown-up. Today I moved everything out of my first apartment into my first storage unit, using my first u-haul :) I'm sore and completely exhausted, but I'm thrilled at the thought of this next apartment, spending my senior year with 2 girls that I absolutely adore!

Speaking of senior year...wow, it's coming fast! I'm trying to block out the fact that a year from now, I'll be looking for a "real job" as a high school English teacher. Doubts assault me as I draw closer to life as a full-fledged adult. I'm starting to wonder if I should really be in a position to teach these kids the skills they'll need to succeed. I still feel too young, too inexperienced, too inadequate. As the baby of the family, I suffer from youngest-child-syndrome. No matter how old I get (OK, so 20 isn't exactly ancient, but I'm not 5 anymore), I always feel slightly insecure about what I'm able to accomplish. In my mind, I'm still the baby, still the one that needs to prove herself, and still the one who will forever be looked down upon in the very loving and non-judgmental way that only family members can get away with. I hear from my family all the time, "I can't believer you're old enough to...[fill in the blank]." It's a perfectly legitimate statement. I can't believe it myself. It seems like yesterday that I was trying to decide what college I should apply to, and now I'm on the brink of completing my bachelors degree. Where does the time go? And where's all of that experience that I'm supposed to get from going to "the best teaching school in the southeast" ?

I started writing this post a couple of days ago when I was in the Charlotte airport awaiting my flight to Indiana, and I have since spent the day volunteering in Heather's class of 4th and 5th grade students. It inspired me to see the community she had created for these kids, most of whom probably never see as much stability in their own families. That short visit helped me to see that 1) I KNOW that I was not meant to teach elementary school and 2) the lofty dreams and aspirations I have had of inspiring, encouraging, and supporting kids to be life-long learners really is possible. Once upon a time, I could say with steadfast assurance that this is the career I was made for and that I was completely confident in my ability to do my job well. Maybe it's a good thing that I'm beginning to realize that I can accomplish absolutely nothing of any significance on my own. Only Jesus moving in and through me can make purpose or meaning out of my pathetic attempts to influence, inspire, or cause change. In my greatest times of doubts, I've been pushed into the arms of the Father. That is where I will find peace, strength, and purpose to do whatever job He sees fit to give me.

He Says It Better Than I Can

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882)

A PSALM OF LIFE

WHAT THE HEART OF THE YOUNG MAN
SAID TO THE PSALMIST

TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real ! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle !
Be a hero in the strife !

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant !
Let the dead Past bury its dead !
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o'erhead !

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate ;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

I stumbled upon this poem when I was flipping through one of my literature books in high school, and it has been a favorite ever since. Yes, it's simple and doesn't require much need for the analysis that most English majors seem to crave. It's almost painfully straightforward but never fails to give me a wake-up call. Honestly, I don't have much to add--I think he sums it up pretty well.

If Only I Could Go Back...

For whatever reason--possibly the overwhelming boredom that comes from completely yet another ridiculously stressful semester--I've found myself thinking about my week in Paris, desperately wishing that I could return. I'm not looking for a follow-up trip to do everything that we couldn't manage to squeeze in while we were there. I don't want to go by myself, with family, close friends, or with a different group of people. I want to recreate my very first Paris experience. While I was actually there, I was completely exhausted. My body didn't know how to handle the time change or the sudden (and dramatic) increase in activity, and it didn't respond very well. Every night, I would limp back to the hotel room and fall into bed dreading the wake-up call we would be receiving at 6:45 the next morning. Of course I was mildly excited by the prospects of seeing the Louvre or going to the top of the Eiffel Tower, but I was not physically able to handle everything that we did on any given day. Needless to day, the experiences that should have been overwhelming and powerful were slightly dampened by my exhaustion. Even so, after everything that has happened in the past 2 months, I look back on my time in Paris as an escape from the reality I didn't know I was about to face. I know that sounds horribly dramatic, but seriously...I thought that taking a "10-minute-walk" (in European time, that is...you just had to be there) through the city was so terribly taxing, and I couldn't wait to be once again surrounded by the familiar calm of my little life in Rock Hill, SC. Oh, what I didn't know then! I had no clue that not only my comfort level but my sanity was headed for a downward spiral as soon as that plane touched down in Charlotte. I did not truly know exhaustion until I was simultaneously trying to finish out my toughest semester yet and hold myself together through 1 or 2 personal crises. So yes, I have found myself longing for Paris more frequently in the past weeks.

I was looking through some of my pictures, and when I came across this one, I just had to stop and stare at it for a few minutes. Of everything we saw and experienced--Versailles, the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the museums, the street performers, the opera houses, the designer shops on every corner, even Hemingway's cafe--this one night has to be my favorite. I believe that this photo was taken on the same night that we had gone to the Eiffel Tower as a group. By the time we got back to the Bastille where our hotel was, it was probably 10 PM, and Nicole and I were desperately seeking food. The four of us ended up at this little cafe where they so graciously provided us with English menus and tried to hide their astonishment that we would have the dinner and dessert course (fruit salad) brought out at the same time. This is where Ethan and Nicole tried escargot, although I was not nearly that brave, and where Allie and Ethan got into quite the philosophical and spiritual debate while Nicole and I were probably talking about Disney movies, coffee, puppies, or something else of very little significance. We laughed until we cried and watched time unfold ever so slowly. We stayed until we noticed that the entire restaurant was literally closing around us. The chairs were put up on every other table, and our waitress was working hard cleaning circles around us, but she never once indicated that we needed to leave. I think we finally dragged ourselves away at about midnight, not wanting to end our evening.

It's so hard for me to explain why this particular night meant so much to me, why this one picture stands out above the hundreds of others I took. Perhaps it has something to do with the realization that my decision to go to Paris with a group of people who were practically strangers was probably one of the best decisions I have made yet. I had no idea what I was missing out on by keeping myself so distant from anything that may be uncomfortable. I didn't know that I had the social capacity to make friends so quickly or enjoy myself so thoroughly. For the most part, I'm one who typically sticks pretty close to home, but thank God I ventured out this once. I honestly cannot imagine what life would be like now without the friendships that were formed on that trip. God only knows that I desperately needed them to get me through the next weeks post-Paris. So as completely desperate as I feel right now to go set up camp in that little cafe and stay for the next few months, I'm looking forward to the next adventure, whatever that may be...perhaps my upcoming stay in Indiana for the summer. God does seem to have a way of working incredible good out of chaotic or less than comfortable situations.

Confessions

After reading a facebook survey titled, "Your Literary Biography" with questions about all of the wonderful works of literature that I should have read by now, I feel that it's time to confess that I am not the English major that I should be. Don't judge.

1) My favorite books are those Dr. Bickford has affectionately deemed "Beach Reads."
2) I hardly ever read non-fiction
3) I can count on 1 hand all the times that I have actually read a novel from beginning to end for a class without the help of sparknotes.
4) I very rarely sit and read literature on my own time without the prompting of a class assignment.
5) I prefer the writing side of my major, although I don't think I could write fiction no matter how hard I tried.
6) I have never read Huck Finn, The Scarlet Letter, Pride and Prejudice, Of Mice and Men, Lord of the Flies, or numerous others that I really should have read by now.
7) Every once in a while, I get the urge to start explicating poetry, but I am completely paralyzed whenever this occurs in a class setting...too many fears of "getting it wrong."
8) I used to love literature before I became an English major...I prefer to look at lit. in terms of of how it affects real people's lives rather than what literary approach we can use to analyze it.
9) I would rather diagram a sentence than read a good novel...I'm totally serious.
10) I am the most literal reader alive...God help the students who will be learning about symbolism from me.

OK, seriously now...there have been too many times this semester when I would look around at my fellow English majors and feel ridiculously inadequate compared to their love of literature and their ability to make meaning out of the most minuscule details. I don't know how often I questioned my place in those classrooms, but I know that I this past semester has definitely been a time of doubt for me. And then I think about being in the high school classroom, surrounded by teenagers who don't care about school, don't care about reading or writing, who think that we (teachers) could care less about who they really are or what they want out of life, and it THRILLS me to think of sweeping in and defying all of their expectations. Do I think that this will come easily? Absolutely not! But there's almost nothing in the world worth more than seeing the light bulb come on in the eyes of a 15-year-old boy who has never before seen how literature can be relevant to our present-day struggles or a 17-year-old girl who has just discovered how to express her heart through writing. I can't imagine a greater satisfaction than that of knowing that I have helped to shape minds, encouraging them, guiding them, and challenging them to look beyond themselves and move through life serving others.

That's what I'm here for. I'm not spending my days here at Winthrop learning how to analyze literature effectively. My time in these classes is merely a stepping stone, preparing me to enter into the classroom and provide kids with the compassion, validation, and tough love that they so desperately need. For now, I will forget about the fact that I will most likely be mistaken for one of the students...or that I daily struggle with my own inadequacies as a student and person, fearing that I won't be able to do enough to make a difference in the lives of these kids. For now, I'll do all that I know how to do, and that is to trust in Jesus to fulfill the purpose that He has given me.

Danger Ahead

I mentioned in my last post that it was time for me to make a conscious decision about how I react to adverse circumstances. In the past weeks, I have been learning the importance of praising God in everything and how that praise breeds joy. Unlike the emotion of happiness, joy runs deeper, sustaining us, filling us up from the inside out. I have made a point to choose to be joyful and praise Jesus in every circumstance. What I didn't think about, though, is the reality of that choice. When we commit to acting a certain way, we often find ourselves presented with opportunities to do what we promised...a test of our commitment, so to speak. And yet, we willingly face the danger of adversity, knowing that through our testing, we will be refined.

For me, that happened to be a very unnecessary car accident on Eden Terrace Rd. this evening. I don't need to go into all of the boring details--the other driver was at fault; no one was injured; and I am without a drivable car at the moment. The timing of this incident was slightly inconvenient and ironic, 1) because I was on my way to take a final exam, which I have now had to reschedule and 2) because almost exactly 2 years ago, I was in a similar situation where a limo rear-ended me and totaled my car. As annoying and stressful as it all seems, I can see that this is my chance...my real-life opportunity to truly be joyful in all things. I'm completely and totally exhausted, but with what little energy is left in me, I'm thanking God for whatever it is He will do through these circumstances.
Psalm 105:1-5

Turning Up the Volume

I have been saying for years that I need to start a blog, but each time I sat down to write, I would stare at the blank screen, paralyzed by the fear of not having anything profoundly significant to say. I have learned recently, however, that our lives were never meant to be lived in silence. Our bodies, hearts, and minds were not created to “do life” on our own. And yet, so many of us sit quietly, holding back our joys and struggles for the fear that they will mean nothing to those who dare listen. Sometimes I find myself wondering what could happen if only we shared our hearts, telling the stories that God gave us to tell.

With that in mind, I’m going to tell you a story. For this one moment, I’m going to share some of my vulnerability and forget about who might read this post, what people might think if I don’t carefully conceal what resides in my heart. I realize that this is a dangerous move on my part. After all, you could misunderstand my honesty for a melodramatic grab for attention. You could wind up seeing more of my heart that I originally intended, but if there is one thing I have learned, it is that our stories MUST be shared.

The past few weeks have been some of the most stressful I have ever endured. The combination of my chaotic school schedule and my recent change in relationship status has landed me in a place of complete and total helplessness. So many times over the past week, I found myself staring at my computer screen, knowing that I desperately needed to be completing endless papers and assignments but not knowing how to handle everything that life had been throwing at me. Last week I sat in a dark corner of the library and was confronted with the overwhelming realization that there was no possible way that I could handle all of this on my own. I have never felt the pressures of stress and defeat weigh on me so heavily. In those terribly discouraging moments, though, I did the only thing I knew to do—I begged Jesus for strength, pleaded with Him to hold me up, heal me, and make me new. Honestly, I don’t think I actually expected Him to answer such a prayer. As a very dear friend of mine would say, “Just another case where one’s emotions are not the Truth.”

No, my emotions revealed only brokenness and complete and utter exhaustion, but Jesus has been working on my heart like never before, picking up all of those broken pieces and creating something beautiful, something fit for His glory. I have found a joy and contentment in Him that I didn’t know was possible. I have learned the importance of praising Him in ALL things, in all circumstances, and through all emotions—good and bad. God promises us overwhelming victory through Jesus; those words have never been more real, more alive to me than they are right at this moment.

I can no longer keep quiet about what Jesus has done and what He continues to do. I will listen to the words of the psalmist and shout with joy to the Lord, worship Him with gladness, and come before Him, singing with JOY (Psalm 100).

As of right now, I’m turning up the volume like I never have before.