Hello, all.
These past few weeks since I found out I would not be going to California have been interesting, to say the least. I auditioned for a play, was cast, and began rehearsing. For this I am extremely thankful, although admittedly, equally overwhelmed. I have interviewed for several jobs and applied for what seems like a thousand. I was denied a long-term substitute teaching job at a middle school, and I was offered two jobs at an after school program. But what I intend to tell you in this post is that, if all goes as planned, I will soon be taking on the responsibility of teaching high school honors English III. You may be thinking to yourself, "WHAT?" and rest assured, I am having the same thoughts. I don't know how to teach English - do I? Probably not. But can I figure it out? Let's hope so.
So, how did this come to be? By the kindness of strangers, mostly. And who am I to deny such generosity and trust instilled in my ability to hold precious futures in the palm of my hands? Truly, I am terrified. Petrified, almost. Yes - I do mean petrified, almost to the point of losing the ability to move. I do not know what I want; I do not know what to do; I do not know if I am capable - but in the wise words of a gentle leader, "Let God be Your God." Who am I to think that this is all in my hands? Of course I am incapable of changing anything on my own. Of course I don't know how to teach English - I didn't study it. Of course I have no idea what I'm doing. And of course, given the opportunity, I will do it anyway. Because my hands are in the hands of the One who created it all.
At times like this, when my spirit is frayed with anxiety and fear, I must remember the Great Truth.
Be still, Laura, and know that I am God.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Expect the Unexpected
48 hours ago, I received a phone call letting me know that Invisible Children would not be able to offer my internship this semester.
48 hours before that, I was having a going away dinner with a few of my friends.
And now, I am sitting on the couch in the living room of the house where I grew up, after a gorgeous 5-mile run and a refreshing shower.
48 hours from now, there's no telling what might happen.
Life is a really strange thing. In a way, it is comforting to know that the plans we make for ourselves are just that - we can talk and talk but the truth is that we don't know what's to come any more than the next person does. And so, we learn to adapt, to be willing to say "yes" to opportunity, and to be free from expectation and uncertainty. And that is something I cannot complain about.
As for what comes next, I will tell you candidly that I have no idea. I plan to apply for the substitute teaching list in my county, and I am considering auditioning for a play. I've contact a few tutoring agencies about finding work, and have emailed one elementary school principal about a possible job opportunity. But the truth is, I just don't know. How long will I be in Raleigh? Will I ever leave my house? Should I start considering alternative options for housing? Should I be thinking about grad school? What can I actually commit to, when I can't even tell you what I'm having for dinner tonight?
But I am not disappointed. I am grateful. I am learning to take things day by day, facing each challenge as it comes. My parents have been incredibly gracious to let me stay in their house for free, and I am not at a loss for not being in San Diego. In fact, the weather here has been almost similar the last few days : )
God has His plans. I'm just here to follow them. And I am grateful.
48 hours before that, I was having a going away dinner with a few of my friends.
And now, I am sitting on the couch in the living room of the house where I grew up, after a gorgeous 5-mile run and a refreshing shower.
48 hours from now, there's no telling what might happen.
Life is a really strange thing. In a way, it is comforting to know that the plans we make for ourselves are just that - we can talk and talk but the truth is that we don't know what's to come any more than the next person does. And so, we learn to adapt, to be willing to say "yes" to opportunity, and to be free from expectation and uncertainty. And that is something I cannot complain about.
As for what comes next, I will tell you candidly that I have no idea. I plan to apply for the substitute teaching list in my county, and I am considering auditioning for a play. I've contact a few tutoring agencies about finding work, and have emailed one elementary school principal about a possible job opportunity. But the truth is, I just don't know. How long will I be in Raleigh? Will I ever leave my house? Should I start considering alternative options for housing? Should I be thinking about grad school? What can I actually commit to, when I can't even tell you what I'm having for dinner tonight?
But I am not disappointed. I am grateful. I am learning to take things day by day, facing each challenge as it comes. My parents have been incredibly gracious to let me stay in their house for free, and I am not at a loss for not being in San Diego. In fact, the weather here has been almost similar the last few days : )
God has His plans. I'm just here to follow them. And I am grateful.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
The Story of Stuff
So as spring turns to summer, and summer to fall, I slowly surrender the meaning-full bliss of student teaching to the world of a memory, and take on my new hat of Invisible Children, with as much courage and surefootedness as I can muster - all the while tinged with a bit of sadness for the days gone by.
Today as I was in my room, drinking coffee [thinking that it would calm my nerves in the same way that tea is said to] I suddenly remembered a perfectly overwhelming and yet somehow serene moment. Eight months ago, I was sitting on the doorstep of my apartment in the mountains, eating a box of popsicles in the summer sunshine, because I couldn't take another moment of trying to pack two years of my life into a tiny car, and because I didn't know what else to do. Inside the apartment, to my back, was a living room full of various things, collected from various places at various times, things that up until this point had made up a large part of my existence. Blankets, clothes, kitchen appliances, posters, photos. And in front of me, nothing but the cool breeze and the sight of a mountain, so much larger than life. And little did I know, in that very moment, that everything truly would be alright. For now. And yet, in so many ways, it wasn't. For a while.
Life is cyclical, in the most magical of ways. We receive a message from the world [from this world, mind you, and yet there are so many more] and all too often, we believe it. Maybe it's true. Maybe it's not. Is it good for you? I don't know.
All this to say that today, as I woke up immediately in a panic and proceeded to find little ways to distract my mind and attempt to put a band-aid on my spirit, I remembered feeling the same way, so many moments ago - somewhere in a foreign world that is somehow out of reach. For now. And yet - there it was - alive and real, for a fleeting beating of the heart.
Life is also beautiful, in the most tragic and terrible of ways. You know how people sometimes say things like "I miss you terribly"? Isn't it terrible to miss someone? Absolutely terrible, and in the same moment, completely and purely beautiful. The same with life, I think. Sometimes beauty makes me cry. Things that are terrible, things that are beautiful, they move deeply in the spirit.
All this to say that a lot of things are really terrifying, and then they are okay, because they keep moving. Things happen time and again, and we grow (we hope) and we change (we think) and we move (we do).
New Year's Resolution: Be Patient, Ophelia. Do not forget.
Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” [Isaiah 30:21]
If you're unhappy, pray. Even if you're happy.
Today as I was in my room, drinking coffee [thinking that it would calm my nerves in the same way that tea is said to] I suddenly remembered a perfectly overwhelming and yet somehow serene moment. Eight months ago, I was sitting on the doorstep of my apartment in the mountains, eating a box of popsicles in the summer sunshine, because I couldn't take another moment of trying to pack two years of my life into a tiny car, and because I didn't know what else to do. Inside the apartment, to my back, was a living room full of various things, collected from various places at various times, things that up until this point had made up a large part of my existence. Blankets, clothes, kitchen appliances, posters, photos. And in front of me, nothing but the cool breeze and the sight of a mountain, so much larger than life. And little did I know, in that very moment, that everything truly would be alright. For now. And yet, in so many ways, it wasn't. For a while.
Life is cyclical, in the most magical of ways. We receive a message from the world [from this world, mind you, and yet there are so many more] and all too often, we believe it. Maybe it's true. Maybe it's not. Is it good for you? I don't know.
All this to say that today, as I woke up immediately in a panic and proceeded to find little ways to distract my mind and attempt to put a band-aid on my spirit, I remembered feeling the same way, so many moments ago - somewhere in a foreign world that is somehow out of reach. For now. And yet - there it was - alive and real, for a fleeting beating of the heart.
Life is also beautiful, in the most tragic and terrible of ways. You know how people sometimes say things like "I miss you terribly"? Isn't it terrible to miss someone? Absolutely terrible, and in the same moment, completely and purely beautiful. The same with life, I think. Sometimes beauty makes me cry. Things that are terrible, things that are beautiful, they move deeply in the spirit.
All this to say that a lot of things are really terrifying, and then they are okay, because they keep moving. Things happen time and again, and we grow (we hope) and we change (we think) and we move (we do).
New Year's Resolution: Be Patient, Ophelia. Do not forget.
Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” [Isaiah 30:21]
If you're unhappy, pray. Even if you're happy.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
The Transition
Perhaps I should change the title of this blog to "Lessons from a Student/Teacher". Because I am constantly a student of one thing or another... the teacher part is questionable (at least until I get my certificate in the mail!)
Anyway, let's talk about the great things that happened over this past semester:
1. Placement that allowed me to live at home
2. Amazing students
3. Number 2 really sums up a lot of things
4. Life-change
5. Not the summer anymore
6. Passed all 3 of my Praxis exams (received double certification in Theatre K-12 and English 7-12)
7. Graduated (actually passed)
8. Had a really cool university supervisor
9. Lived surrounded by a lot of love
10. Had a month of vacation.
And now, you may ask, now what? What comes next? Well here I am to tell you just that - on Saturday (THIS SATURDAY) I will be flying out to San Diego, California to begin an internship with Invisible Children. And I am terrified. But I'm not going to talk about the things that scare me (because doesn't that suggest a lack of trust?) Instead I am going to talk about the important things:
1. I am trying something new
2. I will explore a new city
3. I will meet new people
4. I will take a risk
5. I will learn to live away from home
6. I will work primarily with adults (this is new)
7. I will prepare for future risky and potentially terrifying adventures
8. I will learn to live with less
9. I will travel
10. I will not be alone.
Big things are happening. I would very much appreciate prayers and good thoughts sent this way as I prepare for this journey. I can't say much more right now, because the truth is that there is a lot of uncertainty surrounding this next step, and I want to stay open to all possibilities of what is to come. Anticipation is a scary thing.
4 months. Here we go.
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." [Jeremiah 29:11]
Anyway, let's talk about the great things that happened over this past semester:
1. Placement that allowed me to live at home
2. Amazing students
3. Number 2 really sums up a lot of things
4. Life-change
5. Not the summer anymore
6. Passed all 3 of my Praxis exams (received double certification in Theatre K-12 and English 7-12)
7. Graduated (actually passed)
8. Had a really cool university supervisor
9. Lived surrounded by a lot of love
10. Had a month of vacation.
And now, you may ask, now what? What comes next? Well here I am to tell you just that - on Saturday (THIS SATURDAY) I will be flying out to San Diego, California to begin an internship with Invisible Children. And I am terrified. But I'm not going to talk about the things that scare me (because doesn't that suggest a lack of trust?) Instead I am going to talk about the important things:
1. I am trying something new
2. I will explore a new city
3. I will meet new people
4. I will take a risk
5. I will learn to live away from home
6. I will work primarily with adults (this is new)
7. I will prepare for future risky and potentially terrifying adventures
8. I will learn to live with less
9. I will travel
10. I will not be alone.
Big things are happening. I would very much appreciate prayers and good thoughts sent this way as I prepare for this journey. I can't say much more right now, because the truth is that there is a lot of uncertainty surrounding this next step, and I want to stay open to all possibilities of what is to come. Anticipation is a scary thing.
4 months. Here we go.
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." [Jeremiah 29:11]
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