A tiny Shepherd. Enough.

I was sitting at my sister and brother-in-law's church yesterday through two services as they led worship with the band. Most people just judge the 2nd service or play games on their iPhones but I was intrigued in the first one and couldn't help but listen and write through the 2nd. Pastor Chan talked about not being afraid, how the angel called the shepherds in the fields to "not be afraid" and go see the baby Jesus. He explained and justified all of their fears-- inadequacies, lack of education, lack of self worth, slaves, unloved... And then he talked through why we feel that way a lot of the time and why it was important for them to leave fear and go see Jesus. The beauty for me is that Jesus loves the underdog. He always has-- reaching out to those cast down and out by society and healing them, restoring them to their righteous places. What an adoration and love I have for that part of Jesus's heart. 

I penned these words during the second service hoping to identify what it was they felt and I think God softened my heart for the shepherds and let me see something more. Praying that this season is a gift for you in more than presents under the tree. This tiny Shepherd is so much more than enough. So. Much. More. 

-Melis

We were out in the field,

As we had been for days, 

Guarding our cattle and sheep.

Wondering. Wandering. Wondering.

One night, as we were, 

an angel appeared to us,

To tell us to not be afraid, 

A Savior had been born. 

We were to go see Him. Us?

Many of us, slaves. Sons. Worthless. 

Not believing that we were

The ones being told to go. 

This baby, a Savior, the Messiah.

We were unworthy, unloved and inadequate. 

Outcast by religion and society

Religion proved our unworthiness.

We were poor.

Marginalized. Uneducated. Unwanted.

But we were good shepherds--

We knew the voice of a Master. 

And the angel spoke with authority from God. This was Good News.

We took our flocks without fear and went

To see the Anointed One. 

We were not afraid- 

We had been told the Truth. 

We went to see this tiny Shepherd. 

This small one lying in a manger

Surrounded by love in a mother and father. And us. 

We knew that He was more than a babe in a trough. 

We praised God as we left and shared our story with everyone we knew. 

"Love came down and rescued me. 

Love came down and set me free. 

'I am Yours. I am forever Yours.'

Mountain high and valley low. 

I sing out and remind my soul,

'I am Yours. I am forever yours.'"

Those were the words we sang- 

Forever. In our coming and going.

The words of a deep reminder that a Tiny Shepherd would guide us and keep us and regard us as enough.

That would make our poverty-

Enough.

That would take our lack of education, self worth, and finances-

Enough. 

That would walk with us through the highest mountains and lowest valleys-

And be more than enough. 

A Tiny Shepherd.

   Who removed our fears 

And made us fearless. 

   Enough. 

(Lyrics to "Love Came Down" written by Brian Johnson. I'm familiar with Kari Jobe's version and they sang this yesterday at the end of each service.)

When God gives us something else.

I was sitting on a stool at a counter next to Suria. We were talking about the Freedom Climb and their busy season. She asked me about how I was doing. How was school? How was life in Vegas? I teared up because God had flown me across the whole world to spend 8 cold weeks in Africa. I imagined that he would take me back to the states to pack and raise support for a year before I would return. Coming back to the states, I was absolutely certain that God wanted me in Las Vegas. I had no idea the adorable little loves He would purposely place in my life that next year but He knew. He could see something I could not.

Rewind back to my last year of college. I received a text message from a guy who had basically said he could not imagine life without me. We had talked back and forth for some time then. Now, in hind sight, I realize how scary a texting romance is but I was naive and clueless and desperate for a relationship. I would feed any attention I received. Thinking I would probably be married in the next year, I planned out my wedding and bridesmaids and location and flowers and all with no Pinterest inspiration. My imagination did work Pinterest will never possess the power to control. But I didn't marry him. He didn't really imagine spending the rest of his life with me and my heart was crushed for some time as it had been before with multiple men who claim to know what the one looks like, when they were so clueless, I could throw up. 

So here I am at 30. Having gone through more than one seasonal depression, more than one relationship, more than one moment of delusion, and definitely many moments of asking God where I was supposed to live and why. 

I know little. But I do know that sometimes when God seems disappointing, He is just disapproving of what I want. Because He loves me enough to see past the end of my nose and see much farther into a future that is absolutely delightful to His Kingdom. 

It hurts. It hurts a lot. So this morning, when I sang that sometimes God "keeps me in the valley," I really believe it. He has and in the process, He has kept me from myself and the dangers I provoke and promote and endear. The waiting is never easy and constantly wondering what comes next is a slow burn but I'm praying for more trust. For bolder faith. For braver prayers. For courage to see myself the way He sees me. 

Praying for you because I can't imagine I'm the only one who has ever struggled or wondered over this. I just can't be. 

-Melis

Half{ish} of 29 Thoughts to Think...

I read social media sometimes and wonder what is wrong with people. Not really just what is wrong with them mentally, but do they have a heart. I think many people do not think before they say or do or post things. They do not say or do or post them maliciously but my heart is so offended by the things they think that I actually feel sorry for them sometimes. Not just empathy, but pure pity. Like sick at my stomach pity and I wish I could yell at people through the computer or phone screen. As I approach the unwise age of 30 so quickly, I just need to share some things with you. Near and dear to my heart but my personal opinion and things my lack of wisdom and experience have taught me. These are not you things... these are me things. So you can agree or disagree. I've been told that at 60, you just say what you want to and you don't care... but the other day, I was told by a friend that being 30 brings a whole new freedom to not worry about whether people are offended or irritated or whatever. Maybe I've always told the Truth as much as I think possible and go back and tell it when I've covered it up... but these are real things. Maybe I'm a little early on the not caring, offending thing.

1. It's hurtful when we tell people that they SHOULD do certain things. Maybe they've done those things and it didn't work. We are not in charge of their lives. We should be very careful and cautious on this.

2. Travel is a great teacher and airplanes aren't just for headphones and reading. It's for relationships and a few hours sitting next to someone who maybe has something to teach you, instead of talking the whole time or ignoring the person next to you the whole time.

3. Stop talking so much. STOP. TALKING. SO. MUCH.

4. When asking how people are doing, actually listen to them and mean it or don't ask.

5. On kids, we don't decide how many kids people have and don't have. Why do we ask such nosey questions? And why do we bother people who want to have multitudes of kids? That's their personal choice, is it not?

6. Sometimes people want us in their business. Sometimes people want to "pull up a chair next to your desk and cry." I mean that literally and figuratively. We desperately need people to be transparent with.

7. Parents and families-- sit with your kids and genuinely talk to them at the dinner table. Put away your cell phone for a few minutes. They crave that attention. And when you don't, they're telling their teacher that they haven't had a real conversation with an adult in months. And I KNOW they're telling the Truth and don't want to.

8. When people talk to you, look at them. There is nothing that can replace the conversations I've had where people love me enough to look me in the face.

9. On poverty, let's stop telling poor people they're poor. Maybe part of the result of our society is that we've identified so many people as poor and without that they don't know what to do except take what is given. Maybe they're not too blame for their attitudes on this. Our name calling changes everything.

10. On education, don't talk to a teacher about education unless you know what you're talking about. Do not get upset with a teacher because your child isn't learning. 90% of the teachers I know bust their butts so your kids learn when you're with them. You may be smarter than them but most of them know what they're doing.

11. Stop believing the hype of social media of any kind. Our "social media" lives are so fake now that it makes my heart beat really fast and it makes me nervous because I never want anyone to believe that my life is that easy or that good.

12. Gentlemen, do not be over friendly with the ladies and pretend that you like them, therefore leading them on.

13. Ladies-- I have learned in my experience (or lack there of) that if a (very) gentle-man really wants to pursue you, he will. You won't have to ask.

14. On immigration, we assume too much as white people (and I can say that because I am one) and think that everyone comes to the US because they want something. Well, they do. A better life. Please do not judge any parent or family member who would want that for someone. I can guarantee that you want the same thing for your child or family members. Documented or not-- think about a family for a second and not their legal status. (Yes, I have hardcore heart feelings on this one because I know so many, many stories.)

15. On love, they say it's sweet to wait. I say it's hard as ever to know that you want to get married and people who get married sometimes forget how you feel. People mean well (or they mean something that I don't understand) when they tell you how beautiful and deserving you are. I've said this a million times, but let me say it again... please don't tell single people how you can't believe they aren't married. That makes us feel crappier than we already do about it and it is so not helpful.

16. Always be honest. People have gotten mad at me for being honest but I've never had someone come back and tell me they wish I wouldn't have been honest. Be true to yourself.

17. Keep it in writing. Some of my best days are when I'm able to go back and look at the faithfulness and fingerprints of God's faithfulness in and on my life. Without those piles or journals and random letters and notes, it would be easy for the enemy to eat me alive.

That's all this girl's got for the moment... or 29ish years of it. -Melis

You can STILL have it.

Because I'm a really awesome friend, about a year ago, I gave a teacher friend of mine this activity that I had for my class. Well, he didn't use it and I decided I wanted it back. Don't judge me. I know what you're thinking. Who does that? Oh wait... that would be me. I do that. I asked for it back, and then, of course, acted like I had never given it to him to begin with. I know that sounds ridiculous but I promise you that Roger would tell you that it's the Truth.

Don't you hate love when the words of God on a page make you rethink everything? As in, every single thing  you're going through or experiencing. You constantly just say, "I don't know" about everything because you can't quite put your finger on what it is He's doing but you also are scared because if you put your finger on it, SOMETHING (or maybe everything?) has to change. How often do I find myself this way, you ask? Pretty much almost every. single. time. ((and am willing to listen)) I pick up my Bible. All the time.

This morning, I'm sitting at Starbucks, wishing I would have chosen a different part to read. A VERY different part because it was so clear to me and it wouldn't have (/won't) made sense to anyone else in that moment. In coming back from Zambia this year, I have felt constantly on edge, uncomfortable, uneasy, wavering, basically, a hot mess. Worse than usual hot mess. A blazing hot mess. From depression and pits to anxiety and nerves to complete days of bliss and laughing and friends to feeling completely alone. My multiple personalities and voices in my head gets the best of me sometimes. I have been so so relaxed and so so stressed within minutes. I can carry on a coherent conversation out loud, while simultaneously carrying on 45 to 52,375 other conversations inside my head. I came back to the states and PROMISED God that He could just have my whole heart. So over the last 3 months, I've done what many of you have done, I've taken some of it back. I've held on to some of it while He's captured the rest. He has destroyed some of my heart and rebuilt them and refurnished the whole thing with what He believes looks best. It has been a painful refining of fire. I don't always think it looks best but I don't see what He sees. (That was also my prayer this summer.) After I came back, I wrote this blog... You Can Have It.

In thinking and talking through this tonight with a friend, I realized how much I've taken back. How much I let the things I didn't want to change me change. How much I gave to God willingly over stars and letters and loves and how quickly I'm holding my fist to shake at him because I'm just mad over it. He didn't give me what I wanted exactly when I wanted it. So I don't completely retract my original prayer, but if I could change it, it would say...

Jesus- Take my fancy and un-fancy things. Take all my things. Every single piece. Take my time and attention and relationships. And while you're at it, take the time I use to think about relationships. It's really making me crazy. Take my focus and eyes and ears and mouth and speak into them and around them what only You would have. (P.S. Can you make sure I'm doing the same for those around me?? I could really use the help in this area as you know I have "foot in mouth syndrome.") Take my Starbucks and turn those fierce iced Chai's into conversations about You. Or use the time I drink them to make me ponder a lot of really deep things I don't understand. Just do that so I stop thinking about myself so much. Take my need for attention and starve it and set my attention and affection on You. You've definitely been doing this. Have I really tried to pull the brat card with you? I have. And I'm sorry. Take every Target shopping trip, even for the necessities and let me slow down and SEE other people. Make me relational more than a task/go-er/do-er constantly. Because it's really not about me at all. It was always you. I have all these things but you know what? You can have them. Take it. You can have it all. The speaker at church tonight was right when he called me up on the stage and exposed every dark secret of my heart and then told me that you plus everything equals nothing. Okay, he didn't call me to the stage or send me to a confession booth but I just want to be real honest that I'm struggling with this. (And I know I'm not the only one.)

And when I ask you why I'm hurting, allow me to think outside of myself and let someone else have my compassion and empathy and tears so they can hurt harder. And when I ask you if it's worth it, remind me of Sunday, Golden, Nelson, Dorothy, Peggy, Holly, Charles and Helen, Lorrin and Christopher, Kennedy, artistic Erick and Dennis the Menace. Remind me of the teachers we trained and the kids who put rocks on my feet. Remind me of the selfless service of Christopher and the dancing feet of Gabriel. Remind me of Olivia's arms around my waist and Kennedy's squished face against mine. Remind me of Meka's toothbrush and Kairos' grin. Remind me of the little boy who I "fought" with daily in Makwati just to make him smile. Remind me of Simon's wit and Richard's laugh and the fact that Derek barely understands whether I'm joking or not (and now those roles have reversed). Remind me of Keith's listening ears and verbal processing too that reminds me that we all need each other to talk through things in an honest, non-embarrassing way. Remind me to pray for Ofentse and Moshibudi and the new work you are using them for in southern Africa. Please remind me that you are ALWAYS doing a new thing in each of us, in the world we live in, around us and through us. You are ALWAYS at work, when our eyes are opened or closed and when we hear or don't hear. Those things are what it's about. Caring so much about others that I forget me in the process. So take what you want from me and set me apart for you because I want YOU to have it more than anyone else. I want to mean that more. In the process, remind me of how bad you want this for me and how bad I want it for me too. I make a lot of promises I don't keep and take back a lot of things I've given but I want to tell you that you can still have it. You can have it all. I just need some help, your tireless compassion and a reminder of your constant and beautifully woven faithfulness to me. The stars remind me. And so does Your Word and Your people. I love you. A lot. Thank you for choosing to love me. Love-Melissa

Overwhelmed on a Thursday?

Last week, after literally almost having an anxiety attack, I cried for an hour straight and went to bed. I was a DISASTER on Friday. Thank you Jesus that I didn't have school because I was such a mess. All the ladies that saw me felt lots of pity for me (which I didn't receive well, that also made me cry). I was preparing to speak last Saturday and I was exhausted. After I finished speaking on Saturday, there was this huge relief. This huge, HUGE relief. While it went well and I was pleased with the outcome, there was this deep sigh of relief that I'm sure hit every person I talked to for the rest of that day. I was so overwhelmed, I don't even know how to say how grateful I was to walk off the stage and sit down. This girl's (aka me) heart and mind had taken a beating and I wasn't a fan. 

Today, I was overwhelmed in a different way. From the time I woke up at 5am this morning until tonight, even writing this, there's a sense of anticipation that what God is doing is SO MUCH BIGGER than me. It's so much bigger than my crying girls who's boyfriends broke up with them. It is so much more than my sweet boy who told me how much he missed his mom. What God is doing in me overwhelms me so. That His good always overrides the evil in me and the negative and the bad and the guilt and shame in me. It lets me step back and laugh at the boys who argue over being Student of the Quarter. It also lets me step back and thank God for the many moments He has reminded me of His faithfulness even over the last 24 hours.

It's so much bigger than the mess of my mind, and the brokenness of my frail heart. It is so much more than wondering what will happen next. Because it is what He is doing in me now. And when He does such wonderful things, I shouldn't keep being so hard and ungrateful and difficult to work with. My will has to bend (and sometimes break) so that I can keep following what He wants for me. Sometimes A lot of the time, it takes people around me who love me beyond what I deserve to walk with me through the bending and breaking process so I change and mold and move.

Did you feel overwhelmed today?? I'm praying that it is the power of Jesus alone that overwhelms your soul and mind and strength and heart so that you find yourself in the middle of a story bigger than you and you become grateful, so incredibly grateful. I'm praying the same for me.

Love is so overwhelming too, Melis

To be beautiful...

So I spoke at the RefresHer Girls' Event today and I shared this... wish I was more embarrassed, less embarrassed... I don't know which one. Either way, it's been shared so here it is. May you find your beauty in service to others, more than anyone else. -Melis

When I was in the 5^th grade, I wore my first pair of black heels.

They made me feel beautiful. I felt so grown-up, so dressed up, so stunning.
That was until I walked into the hall of my school and the girls laughed at me.

I didn’t feel very beautiful anymore.

My hair was always down to my waist. People would ask me the strangest questions about it.

“What do you do when you go to the bathroom?” Was that a real question?

My dad always loved my long hair but no one else did and my Miss America costume for Halloween was less than stunning. I was scared…

And I didn’t feel very beautiful anymore.

I remember the first time I got my haircut. I could feel their eyes.

For the first time, guys at school were looking at me.

On the last day of 8^th grade, he looked in my direction and told me he couldn’t wait to see me in high school. I didn’t really know what beautiful was.

For the first time that I remembered, I was actually told I was beautiful in a note.

Stephen was a senior and I was a freshmen. He had curly black hair and a contagious laugh.

We were in choir together and throughout the year, I always had a crush on him.

He sat next to me on the bus on the way back from a state basketball game.

His note told me I was beautiful and he underlined it and put a square around it so I would notice it.

I don’t have that note anymore but I remember what his hand writing looked like because it was one of the first times I had actually felt beautiful, not just cute or pretty or sweet. Beautiful.

When I was in college, I remember my friend, Chris, holding the door for me back into my dorm.

He looked me straight in the face and I knew what that look meant.

He was telling me I was beautiful and he didn’t have to say a word.

I never asked him because I was too scared it would fade or change or wouldn’t last.

And how fair was it for him to be disappointed because I changed? What if my beauty faded?

As a 29 year old, I usually still don’t get it. There are few things that make me feel beautiful.

I feel like I am FINALLY realizing what it means to be REALLY beautiful.

It is more than a hair color, or facial structure or makeup layering.

It is more than a style or trend of clothes or how much I spend or don’t spend on those clothes.

Being beautiful and feeling beautiful happens more often when I make the lives of those around me more beautiful.

Laughter is beauty. Smiles are beauty. Caring is beauty. Putting others first is beauty.

If I could name some of the moments where I’ve felt the most beautiful, they all consist of other people.

Photo Credit: Carly Souza :) 

When my kids at school tell me on a bad makeup day, I’m beautiful, I feel that way.

When their eyes light up when they understand something I’m teaching, I feel beautiful.

When they take my advice in the middle of a presentation and stand confident, I feel beautiful.

When the homeless man at the light smiles because I gave him my extra chicken, I feel beautiful.

When I’ve sat and small little African girls who’ve never seen Americans before play with my hair and rub their hand on my skin, I feel beautiful.

When I drive across town with my windows down and my music up and I’m singing along and don’t care who hears me, I feel beautiful.

It’s not superiority. It’s not about arrogance or selfishness or self-centered behaviors.
Beauty is forgiveness and love and grace.

If we would make more people feel more beautiful, we would leave a be-you-tiful legacy because it wouldn’t be about us anymore, it would always be about them.

A small riot.

Yesterday and today, I sat through 11 presentations from my students. They were professional. They were overall prepared. They answered questions like a boss. They shared personal stories. They were passionate. They knew why they were doing the things they were doing. They followed the presentation outline. They introduced themselves. They all participated. They inspired me.

Over the last 3 or so weeks, my students have worked endlessly on presenting an idea of something they would like to change in the school. My principal sat in on every single presentation. He asked questions of the students as if they were Congress presenting a law to the president. I've sat with each group multiple times asking, what has seemed like, hundreds of questions about what, why, who, when, how. I've taught them how to SMART goal it.

I'm telling you. If you could see these kids a year ago, if you could have seen them 2 months ago, they would shock you. Their confidence was so brilliant that I almost cried during a presentation today. They talked without staring at their presentation notes. They spoke out of their own knowledge and experience. That is true leadership...to be able to share why you want to change something when it goes along with something you know well.

In my 6th period today, two groups joined together to start their problem over completely. They informed me they were planning on starting a riot and then we intelligently discussed why that wasn't such a great idea :)

I need you to know... how incredibly proud I am of my kids. How thankful I am for them trusting me. How grateful I am for their experiences and their passions and their values and their beliefs. I'm thankful they are confident, that they ask questions, and that they are beginning to build each other up and see how they can work together, instead of a part.

Do you pour into the next generation? Do those who follow you want you to join in their riots, in their battle cries, in their passions, and jump in? They should. You're on the brink of something big. Go for it. These small presentations and project grades are about to turn into incredible opportunities for these students. One that will make a big impact on a small school. And maybe start a small riot in the northeast corner of Las Vegas. When we lead and teach the next generation, we can trust what they will become. We really, really can. Do it. Go for it. I'm ready.

-Melis

#Mommoments

Sunday morning, I was standing in church singing. By myself. Thank goodness. There is a mom and two little girls who stand in the front of the choir every week during the 11am service. I always watch the little girls because they remind me of me and my sister and I miss singing with my sister. They always look at each other to figure out if the other one is singing the right part and the mom always looks to encourage or help. Sunday morning, the little girls really wanted to get the part right so they were both looking at the mom who was praising her heart away to Jesus, while also teaching those little girls their parts. That moment was maybe more beautiful than the entire service. Don't get me wrong. The music was incredible. The message was written for me but that moment grasped my heart and my emotions and my head and made me put myself in her shoes.

Except those little girls were 16 and 17 and 18 and they weren't singing. They were just living. A very mundane normal day-to-day life. They weren't on a stage next to me. They were occupying seats in my classroom, asking me questions about my past. They were sitting in the chair next to my desk talking to me about their goals and strengths and weaknesses. They were real. So real. And they were looking at me just like those little girls looked at their mom, except it was in my classroom when I talk about my real life or my own goals. And I was their teacher, not their mom. Their eyes set on me as I speak and share my own experiences. Waiting for their opportunity to see if they "are doing it right." Sometimes, it wasn't just the girls, it was the boys. It wasn't just the daughters, it was the sons too. It was the stares and the big eyes when I spoke the Truth and the compassion when I shared the things I have learned from.

Those little girls reminded me of a Truth so deep. They follow their mom as she follows Jesus and every day, my kids, my girls, and my boys, who sometimes call me Mom, the title of a high prestige, follow me as I follow Jesus. Sometimes to get the notes right and sometimes to engage in something so much deeper. As I struggle day in and day out with the reality that I'm not a biological or even legal adopted mom, I am reminded of the sweet faces I get to stare at that teach me something too. And sometimes they call me Mom and sometimes they mean it.

To so many sweet friends struggling with what the title of "Mom" means in your situation... it means more than you think and you're more than you think-- I see you and pray for you faithfully. Love you more deeply than you could understand or imagine- Melis

Invisible...

Sometimes on the way to school, I get these brilliant  stupid ideas to share my whole life story with my Leadership kids. Today, it was inspired by this song: "Invisible" by Hunter Hayes. If you've never heard it or watched the music video, take a minute. 

Next week, we are promoting a Week of Respect across our school district (at least that I know of). The problem I keep having is that kids don't respect themselves enough to respect other people. Our insecurities are loud when we tell other people what we think of them. My kids say some MEAN things to each other, to me, to themselves, to their families and friends. I don't like it. I don't like myself when I'm like that so I started out with a really brave stupid move and asked the students to write down what they thought I (me, Melissa) was like in high school. What was their perception of me? I got so many answers... tempered, smart, pretty, outgoing, quiet, shy, wanted good grades, hard worker, didn't care what others thought, cared what others thought, had a really good support system, etc. 

Can I just say this? Letting my kids who I see everyday into this little piece of my life is so exciting terrifying for me. The more vulnerable we are, the more susceptible we are to being hurt, broken, and torn up by the people we have shared the most with. I couldn't even look at the things they wrote as they were placing them in the front because I thought I was going to cry. Reminder: kids are mean.. to everyone in case you didn't know. So, while I love my job and I love and adore my kids, this girl gets her feelings hurt ALL THE TIME. Because sometimes I'm somewhere else to them and I'm not real or human and they are hurtful. Sometimes, they don't mean to be AND sometimes they do. They have their own stuff in their own worlds and forget that their world isn't the only one. This happens a lot. 

Anyways-- I continued and told them that I didn't believe any of the good things about myself. I kept a smile on my face a lot but it was not always the way I felt. Even now, I struggle to be as honest with you as my regular reader, than I did with my kids. I was hurt, I was angry, I had my own emotions. I wanted to be beautiful. I wanted to be accepted. I wanted to be popular and I never felt like I lived up to any of that hype. I realize that even those I went to high school with would disagree with me on some of these things but, remember, many of the things we let others believe about us are not always true. Without going into any vicious details with you, I will just say this. My kids were surprised. Why were they surprised? Do I live a lie? No, but sometimes we put the past behind us and move on. Some of us run far from the details that wounded and some of us run to them and hold them hostage. I played the song, "Invisible" for them. They wouldn't look at me. They stared at the lyrics because maybe for the first time for many of them, they really understood me. They really saw into a piece of my heart and my mind and my past and my present. And then I asked them to think for themselves, what is the perception that other people have of you? Is it true? 

The room was silent. Besides a few sniffles and the noise of 19 pencils frantically writing everything  every single one of them ever thought that someone thought of them, it was quiet. No one looked around, no one made eye contact because most of us wished we were invisible. I'm standing in front of them with my hair pulled back feeling I'm halfway dressed, wondering who in the world placed me in front of this group of kids who have experienced way too much and way too little and are so hurt? The seconds seemed like minutes and the minutes to the end of the period literally could not have gone fast enough. When they finally stopped writing, I asked if anyone was brave enough to share what people thought of them. After some complete and utter silence, one of the girls said she would and she shared her heart and she cried. Because no one in that room would have realized that she had been hurt or felt alone or didn't like things sometimes and she was tired of people expecting her to be so strong. Her tears caused one of the sweetest girls in the whole entire world and history of time to wipe her eyes as well because she feels the same. I felt the tears in the edge of mine too because I hurt for her. I know what being "strong" feels like and most of the time, it screams "powerless" more than strong. It screams hurting failure more than strong and I do not want her to feel this way. I do not want either of them to feel that way because it feels invisible. A few more kids shared and I could not have been more proud of them for being honest, for sharing, for being real, for being vulnerable, for trusting 19 other people. These small things... these tiny, little details are a big deal for my kids. They're a big deal for me. And so after we honestly talked about what others think about us, I asked them to mark those things out because those things don't have to be true unless we want them to be so we can take the ugly voices in our head and shut them down and tell ourselves the Truth. For goodness' sake, we need the Truth desperately. 

We need our invisible moments to be visible to someone who cares and loves us and accepts us, flaws, past, and all. And we need to be reminded that we aren't the only ones with invisible moments because in the process, we hurt so many people around us because they are never seen. They are never, ever seen and that's all they're asking is for a person to pay attention for a small moment. 

Let us be intentional. Let us be careful with the words we say and the passions we live out and let us pursue people to make them feel like a million dollars. Let us treasure and value and find worthy- the invisible and the visible. The loved and unloved. The broken and the healed. The wounded and the put together. We were all each of those people once. Who was it that made us feel visible again? 

Choosing visibility- Melis

P.S. The sweetest thing in teaching is knowing you are making a difference, knowing you were heard and they get it. Three different messages to me tonight from my kids just saying thank you for sharing, I'm here for you, I was encouraged, my life is hard right now, and you make me laugh. "Love you." Because those are some of the most powerful words a person can speak and we've already talked about that this week. I love you too sweet girls, and get you and your broken hearts much more than you know. Thank you for reading this friends. 

Sometimes... ya girl needs a piece of toast.

It is 5:18 pm currently in Las Vegas. In great news. I have been awake for 12 hours and 33 minutes. That is a long time and I'm not going to bed right now. Can we talk about my day for a few minutes? Can we talk about the craze that is Wednesday?

4:45 am-- Wake up, eat breakfast, shower, get ready.

6:10 am-- (WHO AM I ANYMORE.) Leave home and drive to Starbucks.

6:25 am-- Arrive at Starbucks. NO ONE IS THERE. YES TO LOVE AND YES TO LIFE ON THIS BLESSED OCCASION. Stand in what line for less than 2 seconds that I noticed and ordered my Venti Iced Chai with 8 pumps of chai because, hey, ya girl don't play. If this is a chai, it will be a chai and I will not accept chai flavored milk.

6:30 am- Talk to the barista about how this is the longest week of everyone's lives. EVER. Say have a great day to the older gentleman who sits outside every morning drinking his coffee and has an accent. I've never noticed he wears a baseball cap that says he's a veteran, but he is forever saying, "Have a great day, sweetheart, honey, etc." I like him. Leave Starbucks for school. Download a song to play on repeat, the entire way to school.

7:00 am-- Arrive at school. Wonder how in the world people get there that early every day. I cry a little bit on the inside. It's too early and I've already been awake for at least 2 hours and it feels like 10.

7:02 am-- Begin running around the school like a maniac because today is a fundraiser kickoff, and it's a Mentorship schedule day, and we have a UNLV presentation, and the fundraiser parent letter isn't printed or copied or counted or distributed. Did I potentially lose 4 class rosters for sign out? Yes, yes, I did, including mine so at least I wasn't biased. Open the Memo I created and yell at the computer because the blue logo should be blue but it's black and yellow. You know what it is. I freak out in the silence of my room, and no one has a clue. Whew.

7:10 am-- Go to the office. Where is the parent letter? Is the computer on? Was it already printed? No one knows. No and for the final word, no.

7:50 am-- Give up all hope for those parent letters to be given to teachers before 1st period because really, who needs them? Oh, wait, every kid in the school.

8:00 am-- Leadership begins. Pledge. Moment of silence. Video announcement group is going. Posters are being painted. Leadership one-on-ones for quarter reflections. Strong willed girl. Tears. She goes to the bathroom. 2nd one-on-one.... tears. Two different girls. Copies of parent letter delivered at 8:35 am. I am now literally crying inside myself because you never plan to talk to a student about their leadership goals and them cry but then I am an optimist (lies.) and never think that students will cry. And they do. They always do. Something about that chair next to my desk, when no one sees their face. Insert real tears flowing down faces of innocent sweethearts. Insert broken heart from the one sitting behind the desk. Aye-- their lives are so incredibly hard. I need to pray for them more. Girl who goes to the bathroom doesn't come back. I freak out. Oh wait, it's 8:40am now. The last 8 minutes were a blur. Girl is in the office. Okay, good.

8:48 am-- I think I've been at school for 2 days, instead of 2 hours. Mentorship kids come in. Distribute fundraising cards. I'll sell my card for $30 and I'll sell my card for $40 and I'm saying the cards are $20, what do we not understand about this really? Sell the cards for $20. Take them to the cafeteria for the fastest college presentation I've ever known of EVER. Congrats to that presenter. I go to help a class with a sub distribute fundraiser cards. That was weird and funny and those kids were mostly mine.

9:32 am-- Finally a freedom beyond belief. Prep time. Nope, admin meeting time. What are we doing. That lasted my whole freedom period so there's that.

10:16 am-- So begins 3rd period and US History and kids who are ALREADY taking words out of my mouth. "Put your backpacks on the floor and your cell phones away." Who are they. You can't do that in week 4. You have to wait until at least week 5. Too soon my friends. Too soon.

11:16 am-- Lunch. I have a whole 25 minutes, which is a beloved miracle. The sub asked if he can have some of my hummus to eat with his pizza. Sure? Can I really say no to that and then eat it in front of you since I have the whole container? "How old are you?" 29. "Oh, I thought so. I'm almost 29." Do I bellow laughter now or later. I don't know. "You seem very professional." Yes, this is my job. (You know I said that directly to him out loud.) I don't know what that means so that was interesting.

11:52 am-- Both bells have rang and I have 5 kids and I really have one absent student. The music is so loud in the cafeteria that no one hears the bell. Everyone else in the building is trying to drown out their craze too. You know what. Do what needs to be done. Finally, all of my kids arrive. They are screaming. They are seniors. They won't sit down, they act like they're at the mall and I'm wondering how in the world I became so relaxed. How did I lose OCD psychopathic tendencies? So that bought them a little bit of time while I figured out my life. When we begin, I tell them that everyone needs to take a deep breath in and I forgot to tell them to release that so you know those drama queens are sitting there like, "I always do what the teacher says." No words. Ummm, hello, release your breath please. Now can I just hear some good news. They share. They were actually really good-- good news sharers. I was impressed. So goes the rest of the day. It was a little chaotic and a little hectic and I'm a whole lot of tired and been awake too long.

3:10 pm-- Leave school. Go to the district office to drop off paperwork and call the tshirt company to see if our tshirts are ready. They're not but great news, we won the tshirt contest so we get 50 free shirts. Yes please. I'll have those to you yesterday. Make a decision. What to eat for dinner. I need some comfort food. Okay, Raising Cane's that just opened up next to my house. I will sit in your ridiculously long line to wait for some chicken fingers, fries and sweet tea.

Oh yeah and some toast because sometimes... ya girl needs a piece of toast.

I'm sure today has been hectic for you too. You are not alone. Eat some toast. -Melis

Daymakers and Depression. Why they need to compromise or why depression needs to be conquered.

So here's the thing. I've admitted I really struggle with depression, so we're over that Great Wall of the Entire World and not just China thing. 

Stop with the under your breath talk about it. Stop with your booing and hissing and dirty looks and all. Let's move on.

I've decided that a match made in Heaven is obviously Jesus over depression but I've also decided that He gives us a lot of things to be thankful for too. I'm all about gratitude. I'm all about telling people how thankful we are for them. I'm all for making people's days. And you know what else I'm all about? Having my day made when it sucks. And sometimes it does. Sometimes we have bad life hours, bad life days, bad life weeks, and bad life months and years. I agree with whoever said that laughter was the best medicine. It is one of the very best and loving Jesus is right there too. Those are the best but in the process of loving Jesus in the middle of an on-again, off-again relationship with depression, I've had some down right day makers. Daymaker giving away their whole life things. That's the good stuff. That's the stuff I want to cover up my life disasters. I want those things to think about and dream about and live about and BE about.

Here's what else I know... I want a daymaker desperately sometimes. And so do other people. So I'm challenging myself this week to make people's days. I don't know what I'll do every day but I do know what made this start. Here's a few things that have made my days over the last week or so...

1. Friday night, I sent an e-mail to a co-worker thanking him for all his help last week preparing for the assembly. When you say thank you, you don't expect anything in return. There's no reason for you're welcome really but sometimes people say it and sometimes they really mean it and you're really grateful that they're really grateful and it starts this awesome day making game. So I get this funny e-mail back this morning saying thank you for the thank you and to let him know if I need any help for anything. That wasn't required AT ALL. No gift was necessary. Appreciated? Yes. So normally when people send e-mails, it's this underlying notion that no one has to actually verbally say anything... but sometimes people do. And I appreciate that too. A face to face conversation. So he comes to my room during my prep and says something like, "I didn't know what to write in that e-mail... I really wanted to write 'I'm speechless' but didn't want that to be taken the wrong way." Excuse me, you're talking to the girl who culturally offends people in other countries while they're in line for their dinner... there are very few things that I'm so easily offended by. He said people rarely say thank you. NO KIDDING. So when people do, no one knows what to say because they're so taken back by what you did say. #truthteller He was, quite frankly, shocked for someone saying thank you for just doing what he needed to do. Between me and whoever reads this, sometimes people just need a day maker. I got to make his day and he made mine by talking face to face with me about it all. Let's make days of people who make ours too... did you follow that?

2. My heart. My kids. They are CRAZY. Today, I jokingly asked my 4th period who was paying them at lunch to act like they don't know what was going on. One kid said he was paying everyone well. I told him it was apparently working and he had good employees. I heard from one of my boys-- little brothers-- today too... DAY MADE. I love knowing what's going on (because I'm nosey and ask a million questions) and I love they check in every once in a while. True family. Maker of days. and days. and days.

3. Teri. You could say my home away from home. Or my mom away from mom. My mom is sure thankful for her. Last Tuesday, she was sitting at Starbucks and invited me over for an hour or so. I love her heart that follows Jesus and is obedient to Him. I love her determination and the way she sticks up for people. She has been known more than once to convince me to meet up with her even when I am having a bad life-life. When I arrive, inevitably, a Starbucks chai (my favorite in case you didn't know) is there already for me to drink out of. She even has the straw in place! One day (a couple of weeks ago), I came home to a book I had wanted outside my door with a ribbon on it that said, "Happy Birthday Quarter!" It's the little things she does... and checking on me when she thinks there's something wrong. She is an all the time day maker. I want to be an all the time day maker! 

4. My boss is awesome. I would work for him any day of the week in any school in any place. As I was walking out last week taking a deep breath, I had stopped to ask him something totally unrelated to anything he was discussing. So interesting that I can't even remember what it is... oh yeah-- water for the assembly since it was outside and a million degrees the following day. He made sure to look me straight in the face and give this word hoarder of a girl (aka me) some words of affirmation that I needed. I don't know how he knew I needed them but I did. He said he was glad I was there, working for him. I'm SO thankful, overwhelmingly thankful that people see when days need to be made and they just make them.

5. Jamberry is going well. I'm constantly encouraged by my team and thankful for the ladies that invest in the business but also invest in others. I'm also super excited that I have a consultant that's now on my team, a sweet, Godly young woman who is with me on this! Hoping for a few more too :) But until then, I have a highly successful, very fun party going on at the moment. Makes my morning, day, night, not just because of money but because making other peoples' days make mine! I don't know how much more I can emphasize that!

Those five things... defeat my depression. They have a love/hate relationship. Depression doesn't like daymakers but daymakers can't stand depression. But I think they need to compromise or the daymakers need to take over. It is the grace of God and the love and compassion of my Savior who places people in my life that speak Truth and aren't afraid to speak up. People who aren't afraid to make days for other people and not just themselves.

Take this challenge with me! Let's make someone's day... in the small things. Buying them an ice cream or telling them you love that color on them. Speak up for them. Speak up to them and say something that will... make.their.day. World changers are day makers. I want to see a changed world, even if it's just small and around me so I want to make days. You in? I'm assuming you just answered yes out loud to the computer screen. Okay, maybe that was just me. Regardless. I'm daymaking.

-Melis

My eagerly awaited Life Decisions (x2)... They're probably not what you think.

About a week ago, I posted on Facebook that I had made two big life decisions that I was pretty excited about. {Pause-rant. I do not apologize at all for this one because I'm annoyed enough to say some pretty intensely rude things here.}

One of the life decisions was not that I'm getting married at the moment. I will get to the life decisions in a minute. One day? Yes. Is there someone at the moment? No.... and really, is it any of your business? Possibly not, depending on who you are. I guess we all get to decide what we share and what we don't share. And while we're on this topic, let me say something and I absolutely mean this. Please consider before you say anything or ask when I'm getting married or why I'm not married. I realize that not everyone means to be offensive but most of the time, it is not taken the way you mean it, so please stop asking. Telling me that I'm such a great girl and you can't believe I'm not married does NOT encourage me. When I know when I'm getting married, you will know. When I know who I'm marrying, you will know. So please (as I told one of my kids today), open up your purse/wallet and get a chill pill and take it. For Heaven's sake, I have to chill out about it and, quite frankly, I'm ready for you to do the same. I'm insecure enough on my own without a million questions being asked about something I'm already super insecure about. I know I'm not the only single girl that feels this pain so PLEASE RECONSIDER BEFORE YOU SAY ANYTHING. 

Now, with that being said, the great news is that I have successfully made two big decisions in the last couple of weeks that I'm pretty excited about. Back to the positive attention and news. 

1. I am quitting stress. If whatever you're saying or doing is unnecessary and causing me extra thinking over nothing, do not think twice about me bowing out of the conversation or excusing myself. I am choosing not to listen to this. I know that sounds insane. How do you quit something that you're addicted to? Well, it will be a process, but I have to move in that direction. No reason really for anyone to be stressed all the time and I'm so over it. So I'm quitting. There, I said it, more publicly than before. I'm quitting my addiction to stress.

2. I have decided to be an independent consultant with a small company named Jamberry. It's a nail wrap company that allows me to get extra income, while throwing parties for people who love pretty, fancy nails. I'm just starting and am looking to throw parties for family and friends, who don't just want to support me, but also want to try the nail wraps. I was super excited when I first tried them back in June and have gotten lots of compliments on them. After hosting a party on Facebook in August, I decided that I, too, wanted to sell the nail wraps (and the lacquers and the application fun stuff) in order to help pay off student loans in a faster way, as well as pay for travel and getting to do some extra stuff that I sometimes don't do. My lead has been very supportive and loves Jesus and Africa so I feel like we will continue to get along well and she has been EXTREMELY helpful in so many little things.

I'm thrilled to be doing things I love with less stress and more encouragement and support for myself. If I have learned anything in the last year, it's that I have to take care of myself and both of these things are not selfish but they do help me stay healthy (in general-stress causes my physical body ridiculous amounts of sickness) and they help me accomplish goals I have set, while also getting to be who I am and getting to do what I love.

For those of you who are always supportive and encouraging, thank you from the bottom of my heart. I absolutely love and adore many of you and am grateful for the time I get to spend with you and the way you care for me and about me. I know so many people who put others ahead of themselves and I'm just thankful that sometimes that person is me who gets to be thought of. If you have a specific question about anything here, please just message me on Facebook or contact me. I look forward to sharing more about this in the coming months!

Love, Melis

By the way, this is my web site if you want to look at the nail wraps :)
Melissa's Jamberry Nails Site

It matters more that I care than I teach.

This morning in our regular staff meeting to begin school, my principal started by reading a RAVE Review. A RAVE Review is an award given to a teacher or staff member who does something outstanding and can be nominated by a student, teacher, administrator, parent, etc. They are pretty cool awards and I had never received one before last year when one of my colleagues who is very kind wrote one up for me. I was incredibly grateful and thought it was of the utmost sincerity. When my principal began to read this one this morning, my brain racked thinking, "Who wrote that?? Which student was that? It had to be a student who gave it! Was it at Global? Could it be from Mack?" I was floored and if I wouldn't have been sitting in a room full of people, I would have just wept. The words were beyond kind. They were written from the truest form-- a tender heart of a previous student, one whom I had for 3 years in my Leadership program at Mack. I absolutely still adore this student as she begins her sophomore year of high school eager to do well in her magnet program and continuing her long lasting legacy of a Student Council career. I sent her a message to tell her thank you and see how she's doing and she reminded me that she "truly" meant everything she had written. Can I just share what she wrote with you? Not to brag. Not to draw attention to myself. Not to act like I'm better than other people and not to make you compare your career or calling to mine. I want to share it for a different reason but just read it first...

"Ms. Gillespie has been the most welcoming, spirited, loving, involved, dedicated person I have ever encountered. Nobody can compare when it comes to her passion for the children she leads and teaches. Her endless love and hope brought me to a place that I never really dreamed of; she makes her life revolve around her students and she touches the hearts of so many. Never could I put together the words to say thank you for all she did. She has forever changed my life because she made me a better person. I am thankful for every second I spent with her. She deserves the best and I wish her the best and all the recognition in the world." 

You have no idea how many times I flat out failed with this girl, with this group, with those kids. How many times I left school in failure tears, not joyful tears. You have no idea how many times I stopped in the middle of a Leadership class to chastise them and make them think and then make myself think as a part of my punishment. You have no idea how many times I had to apologize for saying the things I said and doing the things I do. It is always amazing to me that, often, those are the things I remembered. The times I totally screwed up and why every kid I've ever taught should dislike me more than like me.

Gratitude has a way of reminding us of the things that were done well in the midst of feeling like utter messes. It doesn't remember the failures but it sometimes laugh as if they were a silly joke that wasn't real. No one follows up with those. No one who cares anyways. They remember the positive things, the things that made a difference, the moments that mattered. When I think about this sweet girl, I think about how she came in as a timid 6th grader with her best friend at her side. He was in my Leadership class too and they remained best friends throughout middle school (and still are VERY good friends!). I took them to Disney twice for a Leadership series and they traveled to Washington, DC with my group of kids in 2013. They were in my class all three years of teaching Leadership at Mack. I have a video of them at a fundraiser when they were in 6th grade and they looked so very little. Now, they're mature and independent and very well-versed.

Seeing her dream come true in DC as she stood
at the site of JFK's grave and thought about her
roles models and dreams. Beautiful thoughts.

When we went to Disney, she had their entire trip completely mapped out between both parks and the order of rides based on times and locations, including where they would eat lunch and their group of friends ran along. There were also days where she was incredibly heart broken and cried. She struggled with many different things, which will remain nameless for her heart's sake and my mind's sake. She was optimistic and always hopeful. She wanted more. Her older sister inspired her and her younger sister followed their footsteps and their parents were happy they were all doing well. When I picture all of the things we did together as a group, I see multiple times where both of them (my two kids) would laugh. They would laugh so hard, they would cry. Sometimes in the middle of class. Sometimes after school in my room at 4:30. Sometimes in the middle of a very serious event. Sometimes at a camp where none of us were sure what was going on. Sometimes when someone hid under a table and when another one of the girls acted completely ridiculous. Playing games, making fun of each other, normal every day things. Lots of laughter. Lots and lots and lots of laughter.

I think more than any of that, her letter to me, in a very personal (but public) form made me realize something very important. KIDS CARE MORE THAT I CARE THAN WHAT I TEACH THEM. I can teach them every piece of factual information in the world and be the smartest person on the planet but without any type of love or kindness or compassion for them, I can forget it, there's no point in doing what I do. I realized in teaching my little author of sweet letters that who I am in the classroom matters more than what I teach. The things my kids still remember are the funniest moments, the most embarrassing moments, or their happiest moments and they had nothing to do with teaching Social Studies, or even Leadership. They were just moments that mattered. What I do every day matters. Taking 3 minutes to listen to a personal story matters. Taking an extra interest in my kids' families matters. Going to extra events and wishing them the best on whatever they are working on Matters. I pray that as God continues to call me to teach in a public school system that He would continue to use me to bring hope to the hopeless, peace to the fear-ridden one and laughter to the one who's never enjoyed life before.

As usual, I'm overwhelmed, but so grateful for the great responsibility God has given me. Where is your influence? Who are you when they're around? Do they have even an inkling that you care? Praying you get it too as I continue to learn.

Love, Melis

The Night Before Returning to School.... Officially Returning.

Teacher dreams are real my friends and if you are a teacher, you know what I'm talking about, and if you're not, then I can't think of an equivalent but bear with me. ((Sarcastic me would just like to point out that you clicked to read this-- so basically, you're welcome! :) ))

The other night I had a dream that I was a substitute teacher in an elementary school. The teacher who left must have been the most amazing teacher on the planet. My dream lasted the span of multiple days in class and, yes, I was only asleep for a few hours. I'm pretty sure we went on a field trip to a creek nearby and saw a snake but none of the kids were bit or drowned so I felt successful. Unfortunately, when we go back to this classroom, which was just a really weird room isolated from every other classroom at this dream school, I overheard one of the little boys tell another kid that his teacher had said I would be good, but I wasn't.

BOOM. Wake up right then. WHAT?!?!?!? How do these types of dreams happen?? I don't know but I'm sure that I'll have about a million more before students show up in my classroom next week. For now, I will just prepare myself for time spent in my room decorating. Which for me means hanging up enough pictures of myself that students realize I have a life outside of school but I still have a job. I'll do a few bulletin boards for their learning benefit too. I'll have time spent in meetings on new initiatives and new ideas and new things that the school district is doing that we are all figuring out how to use after we yell at the technology specialist at the school on why our printer is not working. I'll get the list of my students and some names I will recognize but most I will not and I will wonder if they like me or if they know me already or if they have brothers or sisters or if, if, if, if...

But you know what? Tonight is my last official night of non-freedom/freedom because I start work tomorrow. Promptly, my staff breakfast will begin at 7:30 am. I will have been awake for about 2.5 hours by then and should surely have enough caffeine and sugar in my system to last me for the 3 hours of morning meetings. So tonight, I will write a blog, stare at the ceiling, wonder what I've forgotten, yell at Facebook because I can't beat this level of Candy Crush and I'll use all my extra lives that have been sent to me, and then I'll attempt to sleep but probably wake up nauseous because I just seem to do that these days.

Here's to a new school year. Meetings, new co-workers, coffee trucks and classroom decorations. New ideas, gift card giveaways, teaching students how to make posters, and making kids cry. Here's to celebrating successes, birthdays, promotions, and overcoming obstacles. Here's to moving mountains, watching mountains move, speaking English to my sweet Anthony with the biggest grin on his face and morning talks with my boys this year. Jokes, practical jokes, observations and visitors, and me giving the death stare to someone who says something ridiculous to me. Here's to sarcasm and kindness, compassion and fear, and another school year for the books where I can make a student laugh, smile, be kind, and show leadership.

I'm probably not going to sleep without normal teacher nightmares or wondering where I put my dry erase markers, but regardless, I'm ready for a routine and I'm excited to see my new and old kids.

Happy school year! -Melis