Grace to be Blameless (despite weird things guys say at car washes, gold hair, and orange cones)

So here's the thing.

I'm a mess (in case you haven't realized this prior).

Saturday morning, I looked in the mirror to almost have a panic attack because I could have gray hair. To all of you older than 30ish, no thank you to any of your comments or contents or tragic pasts. I had a moment. If you've never turned 30, I just want you to know-- it's coming to you and it will not leave you unscathed. I have been given a few extra sunspots, wrinkles next to my eyes and a GOLD HAIR. I don't know if I'm Rapunzel in the movie "Tangled" or if this is real life (although, I have always thought/known I was a Disney princess so this just more than slightly affirms it). So come on over, brush my hair and sing to me/I'll sing to you- which ever you prefer. Any who, I have decided that my so-called "gray hair" is actually gold. Call me blessed if you must. Clearly, panic left and righteous confidence took over in the most annoying way.

So there's that. THEN there's this problem I have in the weirdest places where weird men say weird things to me and it makes me feel WEIRD. Here's the thing.... I can take a compliment, I can say thank you, the whole ten miles, whatever to all of that... BUT when you pull up to the car wash and the guy looks at you like you're sitting there in your bathing suit? Houston, we have multiple problems. This is going down. The man/guy/weird person who asked me what kind of car wash I would like smiled the most creepy/weird smile. (If we go back to my life as a Disney princess and I'm Rapunzel in the movie "Tangled," think the guys in the pub when they're singing the song about having a dream... except this wasn't a dream. This was real.) I almost felt like he was doing it on purpose. Since I wear none of my emotions (nor have I or ever will drop my jaw at the sight of something slightly strange) ALL of my emotions on my face, I have no idea how I continued to speak because I felt so weird. Moving along (literally thank you Lord and in this story), I buckled up to go into the car wash because it obviously felt unsafe and then it was over... blah. blah. blah. So I am directed to the vacuum area and am greeted at my driver's door who OPENS my door and says, "How are you doing today sweetheart?" And I was so like, what is my life, that I said thank you. That's right. I just said thank you because I was already being attacked by the glass guy who needs to fix a piece of my windshield every second and being pointed toward his assistant while also dodging oncoming traffic in the most dangerous gas station/car wash/parking lot on planet earth. (And I'm not exaggerating whatsoever in the least bit.) Then when I had to talk to the insurance person, they're all yelling in my ear because no one knows how to be polite when you're at your job and supposedly doing your job and everyone is taking a break. I'm sorry, but you handed me the phone. YOU. Yeah, you. In the midst, I'm trying to be compassionate and literally thinking of how not nice I'm being and you're making this hard for me. So that was yesterday. (aka Sunday)

In other news, today, I was driving to the west side of town (in no type of gang sense or association) and got stopped in traffic because NO ONE IN THIS EVER LOVING CITY KNOWS HOW TO MERGE (capital: my emphasis specifically). And then I was less than a mile from the restaurant, when I got stopped again because officially in Las Vegas, it can only be a street, if it has spent more time as a construction zone rather than a functioning road for cars to drive on. (Also, if you're looking for a job, I'm hiring a personal chauffeur because this construction everywhere in this entire city is stressing me out and I can't take it (today).) (I apologize in advance because I still may have road rage even if I'm not driving so take a chance and apply today! :) ) 

After all of this, I took a breath (here and there) and said, "Thank you Jesus that I can literally be this out of control and for the reason of your love ONLY do you chase me down and hold me back from acting like a crazed lunatic, posting incredibly overreacting Facebook posts, and yelling at the crew dropping off the cones on Durango. Because your grace doesn't cover only me and my mess, it covers theirs too... and the young guy who broke his arm complaining how bad it hurt... and the girl who had to call the insurance who was so not enjoying her job... and the man doing his job to make a wage to pay for his children to have everything they could possibly ever need. That's grace."

Jesus's reply to me may have sounded like this..."That is grace my love. That's deep grace that overcomes and overcame and will forever overcome. You're messy and fearful and rigid and uptight sometimes. You're also incredibly compassionate and generous to others. You are not all things because I am all things. In and through me is the ONLY way you can ever be any of those things. You've been asking to be made blameless? You want your words to match your walk as I reminded you last night? Then, hold your tongue and your written words. It's okay to be honest but it's not okay to let those things control you. I am enough. My enough makes you blameless. My enough is grace only. I love you completely and make you blameless in my sight time and time again."

What a relief. I have been so convicted over my words and beat myself up over my imperfections and drama and selfish heart and mind. HE MAKES ME BLAMELESS. He is the only one with the ability to let me start over. I face consequences and apologies and real life here but He knows real life well. Because He's in me and with me and gets me. Blameless I can be. In Christ alone... despite my mess and real life, I can choose Him. Thank you Jesus. (And thank you for the strange situations I find myself in---because they let me see you as you are.)

-Hot Mess Day #43,561.76 (but no hot mess counts accurately so yeah)--
Melis

You make me brave.

I have no idea if I've told this story or not but go with me...

On my first day of teaching high school, I'm standing at the front of my last period class and I started sweating. I started fanning myself like a crazy person because I was so hot. These kids/mini adults were just looking at me like, "Who is this lady? Where did our principal find her? What is wrong with her?" They were right, I was just having an "Oh my gosh, what have I gotten myself into, I can't breathe" attack for a minute. Therefore, that increases my body temperature by about 200%. 

We laughed about that moment a lot that year. They laughed about a lot of other things too- me not knowing how to pull the fire alarm. Me saying I was going to call "someone" when I realized the student lived with someone who was not a family member. Me saying a lot of crazy things that didn't make any sense. Me riding on a roller coaster screaming at the top of my lungs. Me doing a lot of things that were ridiculous. Me getting mad for ridiculous reasons. Etc. You get the point.

I was just talking to one of the boys from that year tonight. They were grace to me. They are grace to me. When I think about a lot of my boys particularly, they represent a lot of sorry's and forgiveness and mercy and mess that God was cleaning up in me. The girls were like mirrors of me-- worrying about relationships and self-esteem and fear and lack of confidence. I was the one sitting on their side constantly struggling with what to do with my life. Worrying about what people thought. Maybe I still struggle and need those things.

There was something about that group of students and few students before that just made me want to take a risk. I wanted to be a better teacher.  I wanted to learn and grow and work my butt off. They made it feel easier. They still do. Talking to them about what they're doing and have been doing gives me a great amount of hope. I'm proud of them. I always think that those must be the things that happen when you have kids of your own. Those must be the things you feel or want or see in your kids.

I don't really know what else to say on this at all but I adore them. Each of them for multiple reasons. Some of them make me laugh so hard and I can't stop smiling and some of them bring tears to my eyes and not in a bad way and some just do both.

I know I'm not always so nice and I can go a little crazy but I'm thankful that they make me brave. They make me better and a lot of the times they don't get the pay off for that but hopefully someone in the future can say thank you.

To my kids-- you make me brave and excellent and hopeful. Hoping that you keep passing it along.

Love, Ms. Gillespie

Staying and Grace Gifts and Kleenex.

I've sat with my kids for the last couple of days in Leadership in one-on-ones. Those times are normally moments when they open up about what's going on. Guarantees?

-One that needs a kleenex for them.
-One that needs a kleenex for me.
-One that laughs at himself.
-One that I laugh a lot with.
-One that takes it very seriously.
-One that's super anxious.
-One that hasn't talked to adults in weeks.
-One that has not talked to anyone or trusted anyone ever.

Pause.

These conversations are so good for me. Every single one is a grace gift. A sweet, peace filled grace gift. It cannot be taken. Those moments can't be. Last year and the year before, I realized how much I was beginning to look in my own face and life except they were these other humans sitting before me talking and it was me who was listening.

Play.

Yesterday, I commented to one that she wasn't listening very well ( I was more polite I hope than reading this sentence). Today she told me she wasn't good at listening (and she knows it) and then we talked about overanalyzing and over thinking and staying inside of our own heads. Sometimes when we get in that mode, we forget how much people care and love us and take care of us. How much people want us to stay in their lives. I wanted to look at her and say, "There's hope! I am you! You are me!"

Depression comes and goes here in Melissa world. Sometimes slowly and sometimes quickly. Always changing. During my second year of teaching, where it was unknowingly invading my life, I had this group of terribly wonderful kids who talked to me about Lil Wayne and shared their poems and lives with me. I slept a lot that year and lost a lot of weight that year but I think that their ridiculous ways made me stay there. It made me stay me. It allowed me to come back to the light and see what was actually going on. I could step outside and look in the mirror and see myself again at the end. They were continually helping me to stay. The next year was a repeat and then, they stayed. Many of those kids that made a great impact (from both years) have somehow stayed in touch with me. I LOVE that. I love getting to stay in people's lives.

Two years ago, when I took a new job, I was terrified. But there were these terribly wonderful kids again who won me over ALL the time. They were so ridiculous that somehow I had a decent self-esteem while teaching for one of the first times while they were simultaneously torturing and annoying me daily. I had some of the best conversations of my life that year. I learned the most about other people that year. I learned a lot about other people too- a lot of my kids and their pasts and it encouraged me to sit down at my desk and have them pull up a chair. I learned a lot about what makes a teacher at heart and what makes a teacher by position. I wanted the heart. I wanted the heart to stay. And those kids somehow invaded my heart and took over. And they stayed there.

One of them came to visit. One of them messaged me. One of them messaged last week to check on another one. My heart brings them to mind SO OFTEN. I stayed and they stayed in my heart.

Today is World Suicide Prevention Day. So I'm asking you who want to leave to please stay.

You matter. I'll get the kleenex. Love you. -Melissa/Miss G

If you or someone you know needs help, please don't wait! There's a phone and online portion here... http://www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

How do we sleep at night?

I mean, honestly, how do we do it?

How do we sleep at night??

When we see things like this and KNOW what is happening in the world around us. 

We are so comfortable that we crawl into our beds each night and complain about the noise the neighbors make and in the meantime, thousands of refugees are fleeing from the worst crises in our day and age. Families wanting to live. Wanting their children to not have to survive in a literal war zone. We have no idea what that life is like but this picture-- Aylan, the little boy who drowned at sea from Syria shakes me up. It makes me angry. Because he could have lived (and his brother too) but he didn't... They didn't. 

And yet, here we are... Complaining and bypassing the real atrocities of the world. And maybe I'm a little more attentive because I feel a strangely beautiful connection to the culture of family and care and kindness and protection, which is what I've experienced of Syrian culture. And I'm whining because the speed of the Internet on my phone is slow and I'm hungry for dinner although I had lunch a few short hours ago. Although I may fear some things, it is nothing of the life in the picture above. A little boy's body lying on the shore. A little boy who wanted to live. 

I hope for you. That you lose sleep. A lot of sleep. Because there is REAL injustice in the world and we are so selfish and focused on us that we don't know what to do about it so we do nothing. We sit silently, idly by. 

Seventy years ago, many Americans did the same thing. Slept well at night and when we woke up... And we saw the numbers following... 11-15 million dead in Europe. We did the same thing in the 1990's. But we stepped out and they were endangered in Rwanda- 800,000 dead within months. We've watched the atrocities of Sudan within our lifetimes and even allowed their president who is wanted as a crime offender internationally move freely. And now this. What will our kids say in 15 years when they learn about this in their history classes? What will be our answer. 

The least I can say is that I lost sleep. And stayed and prayed for the families of those who have chosen to stay despite the immense danger to their lives. And for those who have taken the risk to leave, may Europe and the Western world open their eyes, arms, hearts, pockets and homes-- then we will truly see change because we give and become part of the solution to the problem. 

Jesus, you're always it- may we hear you speak in sleepless nights on what you want us to do. On how we change the world. On how we let go of our lives to see others saved. 

I'm not sleeping either. Melis

A continual undoing.

The last post I made was about this little girl in Mpulungu who's sweet life shattered my heart and then put it back together again. My stars... There is more if you can even believe it. Last Friday night, I sat through a short debrief with the team at the lake and those of us on short-term outreach. I shared the story of Little M and how watching her had broken my heart but also given me confidence in what God was doing. Lorrin (the teacher who had here and there helped Little M) asked if she could tell me something. Of course she could! Without me even knowing, one of the other teachers was helping that sweet little one and she started talking about how she was scared of the muzungu (aka me) who had continued coming close to her and touching her and helping her. She said I had helped her with her math and that she wasn't scared anymore of me because I let her count on my fingers when she was adding... And that meant that I loved her. My fingers holding up to count to 13 showed a little girl so fearful that she was loved. 

My deepest love and undoing almost always comes at my point of fear. When I've looked at God and said, "I've had enough of the injustice and the hurt and the aches and I'm tired and scared of what you would ask me to do next." He just holds out his fingers to let me count his faithfulness time and again to show me how much he loves me. My deepest fears are his places of peace and rest. I am increasingly thankful as I see this time and again. 

He loves me. He is my healer. My portion. My provider. My peace giver. Enough. Always enough. 

Please pray as I prepare this weekend to speak 4 times. Once at a small church in a small village outside of Kabwe, and three times in workshops to women who serve Jesus in Zambia, Africa, and the world. 

My Hands are tense and worried but He... He whom holds out his hands for me to count His fauthfulness. He doesn't run out of fingers and He doesn't ever run short on love. 

-Melis

The little ones in the picture are from the village that I will speak in on Sunday. They're so adorable I can hardly stand it. 

At least one. To be undone.

The little girl sat quietly outside Ba Lorrin's classroom. She said nothing, just looked at me if I looked at her and maybe smiled. I cannot stop wondering what her story is. I cannot stop asking questions about why she is not in a classroom and why she is not wearing a uniform. 

One day she was given a piece of paper and a pen. She sat and drew by herself for several hours. She watched people walk by. She would sometimes get a glance at me helping the grade 6 students who are struggling with long division. Boy, are they struggling but there was something so innocent. She continued to sit and work. One day, she had a bad outbreak of a rash on her arms. I noticed and mentioned it to the nurse who was unable to check until the next day. I sat with another little girl who was struggling during remedials one afternoon and helped her with numbers and adding, as well as the alphabet. Realizing the little girl I noticed before knew no English whatsoever, she came to sit. (She really wanted to write with the marker, as did every other child that walked by-- truth be told.) I wrote out the alphabet for her to copy the letters. Many other kids were still present and were gathered around. 

(Let me stop for a second and add that Zambian kids raise their voices rather quickly. I cannot truthfully figure out why, except to say they want to be heard more than anyone else. So they tend to "yell" at one another often, especially if someone messes up or does something incorrectly. They are very competitive and very hard on one another.)

This group of kids started yelling at little M that she was not doing something right and she was writing the letter the wrong way. I finally raised my voice as she was looking more and more insecure. I invited the kids who could be kind to stay and those who wanted to remain unkind- please go. Most left because they were confused by my loud voice also. She stayed and continued writing. The few kids who were there-- calmly and patiently spoke to her in Bemba and told her what to do and what to write. I had to look up to avoid the tears that were to come. A few letters were quite difficult, so I put her hand in mind and traced the letter and then allowed Little M to work independently. 

There are some things that just someone tell undo me. That was one. Just bottled me up like a big tear drop and let me go. Oh- my heart. To watch a sweet little beautiful girl belong for the first time since her arrival. 

 A teacher noticed her rash and asked her older cousin to walk her home to her aunt (considered a mother according to family traditions in Zambia) as she has recently begun staying with them. She didn't return for a few days. And I worried that she would be forgotten but she returned with more joy and passion than before. She wasn't afraid to let her eyes met mine and she wasn't afraid to grin and laugh and try new things. 

I sat with her this morning and practice numbers and addition. Be still, my heart. May I stop for those who need the extra mile and who just need ordinary people to give them a moment and a hand to trace the letters. 

How covered we are by the grace hand of Jesus who does the same for us. I am in awe. So undone. Willingly. 

-Melis

"I choose you because I love you."

We arrived in Lusaka, Zambia Friday afternoon. I was so exhausted because I did not sleep well on the longer flight and I felt so confused about the time of day it was and what the actual day was. I went to lie down in order to take a nap but had a hard time going to sleep. 

The truth is I miss a lot of things. And when you're that tired, you become a little more emotional than you would be in a normal state. The even bigger truth is that over the last year- I have questioned much. The only thing that has seemed to be the most consistent is the faithfulness of Jesus to me. That faithfulness whispers to me in the deepest pits when the tears are many and on the highest peaks when it seems that I'm closer than ever. Lying on the bed that afternoon, Jesus reminded me of something I have questioned seriously-- why did He choose me to do the things I do? Why did He choose me to come to Zambia for a length of time? Why did He choose me to walk with students who have felt abandoned? Why did He choose me to love them well and mess up a lot? Why did He choose me to be the one they called mom on hard days? I mean I could go on and on and on. 

He silenced my curious heart with the Truth- 

"I choose you because I love you. You don't earn it. You don't deserve it but I promise to be unwavering in my love for you and I promise to remain faithful to my choice." 

The tears have been about as consistent as my questions recently so I just laid there listening to Him repeat that phrase time and again. 

Maybe you need to know that His love is consistent for us- it does not change or flee on impulse. It doesn't abandon. It rights wrongs and makes sense of nothingness. It pleas with us to believe. It begs that we live differently. It consumes and I pray that knowing that His choosing me is a result of loving me will impact every area of my life. 

How well He knows me. Okay with the questions-- a gentle conquerer. A mighty caretaker. A choice maker. And a consistent one. 

-Melis

Zambian prayers...

So my bags are packed (well mostly) and I'm just sitting on my couch calmly watching HGTV. What is wrong with me? I'm not sure.

I'm excited to be in Zambia in a couple of days. So much so that I may cry when I see so many of the people I just adore and am overly thrilled to see. Feel like I've missed a few brothers over the last ten months so I am so excited to see them and hear them laugh. (Maybe I'll just cry now.)

I'm asking for prayers for a few things because God is giving me some really cool opportunities and I'm not at all being arrogant but I'm a little nervous and need some Jesus in the middle of every single one of them!

1. My health-- last year, I got sick three different times, which is the most by far I've ever gotten sick while being in Africa. I'm praying for NONE of that this year because it was not fun and ended up taking some time that I could have been spending with students and missionaries. It was a slowing time for me and God definitely used it but I'll have plenty to do to keep busy. Pray for my messy immune system. :)

2. I wil be working with teachers at Lake Tanganyika and in Kabwe. I LOVE teaching (obviously) so I really love working with teachers. Their hearts are gold for service and kids. Maybe the part I'm really excited about is that I will hopefully be setting up some appointments with teachers so that I am able to meet with them in smaller groups. That gives more time to ask questions and answer questions and be more specific to each teacher's need. What an honor to use my gifts and passions and serve Jesus with them!

3. The Love Africa Conference is the conference that pulls in missionaries from all over Africa and really over the world to bring them together to encourage them. It gives them time to share their stories with those from the West who support them and allows them to share for the sake of prayer. I have been graciously given the opportunity to speak and teach women who are on the field each afternoon for three days. My teacher spirit loves this and my encourager spirit finds joy in these sweet ladies.

Please also pray for the students and teachers at the Good News School at Lake Tanganyika. There are many missionaries who work at the Lake T base there as well. They will be traveling to Lusaka to pick us up when we arrive and do a shopping trip. Please pray for their long trip down and back up after Corrine (my partner in crime for the next couple of weeks) and I arrive.

Thank you SO MUCH for your prayers and words of encouragement and wisdom and giving. I feel like I get to go on behalf of 150 other people and that is truly GRACE alone. Love, Melis

OH! P.S. I'll be writing here-- but my team will be writing on this blog too :) Hope Love Africa Blog HERE

"...got me feeling emotion."

My mom cried when she and my dad left the airport yesterday. They dropped me off in Jacksonville and she cried and I teared up and then we laughed because she has been doing that every Christmas and summer since I've lived in Vegas. Count them- 8... 8 years. 

Sometimes we just feel emotional and I have to be honest and say that teaching at Global for the last 2 years and working with students at church again while dealing with the the ups and downs of my own pits and depression has made this a stunningly interesting time. Like I can laugh and cry in the same sentence. Like I'm writing part of this on the plane, sitting next to a flight attendant in tears. (And also, I'm listening to the soundtrack of the "Cinderella" movie and I just cannot. It is beautiful.) 

Here's a few reasons why...

1. Yesterday in the JAX airport, I was in front of a family of Spanish speakers and I felt like I was at home. I'm sure they thought I had no clue what they were saying- jokes on you because I did! And sometimes I can't believe I have the privilege of just seeing and hearing people. I am so fascinated by other languages (and still often frustrated at the same time) that I sometimes stare and I don't mean to but I just love listening. What a gift to be able to know something in a language other than English. Thank you to my hilarious kids for helping me with this. In ways that you don't even know. 

2. I leave for Zambia on Wednesday and it will be my 6th time to the country. I am so excited to be with my lake family and work with those sweet kids whose faces plague my memory well. They change my perspective on so many things--- all. The.

Things. And their Godsend teachers he hi willingly love and trust Jesus for thei jobs daily. Oh- to give my kids to Jesus over and over. What a lesson to be learned. 

3. Packing and traveling is something I do often but it is stressful and I say that because many of you still believe I live with no cares in the entire universe. I am one of the most low maintenance travelers you will ever meet and I know that but flying and luggage and passports and shots and medicines. #stressedprobs

4. Lastly, I've been feeling all sorts of emotions over my self recently. I've written about it some previously but not much. After being at the beach for a few and judging everyone else, I've decided that I can be okay with my body. It is not pale thin and it never will be and I will have connect the dot freckles that will be astonishing to others. I'm okay with my hips being wide and sometimes feeling fat and sometimes not. That's just reality. I've worn almost the same size for almost 12 years so I feel like I can be quiet about it sometimes. 

And we should be quiet about a lot of things but that's a different post for a different day. 

That's all I have for now. All the feels. All the emotions of summer. They're baaaaacccck. -Melis

A 10 Year Prayer...

A couple of months ago, I was asked the following questions: 

"Hey Melissa, I've got a friend who is really having a hard time being single. She sent me this tonight. do you have anything I could say to help?"

"I have a hypothetical situation. So you know how people are always telling us that we just have to wait and God is going to bless us with the greatest men? Or that we just have to trust that it will happen eventually, but what if it doesn't? What if Gods plan for me doesn't involve another person. What if I am going to be waiting the rest of my life for something that He never had planned? I'm terrified of that. I'm scared that I, a person who needs the companionship of others, is meant to be alone. I only can trust, but what am I trusting in? That it will lead me to happiness? Because I cannot fathom a world where I am happy with loneliness. Trusting God has a plan is so much easier said than done, but right now, I'm terrified that what my expectations for His plan are and what His plan truly is are COMPLETELY different things."

A few weeks ago, I sat down to write my future man a letter. I have a box full of letters. I've probably never talked about that here because it's a concept that is sometimes made fun of. And I don't like being made fun of honestly.

I've woken up a few times just praying for him (especially this week). Wondering a lot of things about the future.

This was my response to the original question: 

"Unfortunately, for me the situation is not hypothetical. When I was in college, everyone acted like everyone gets married right out of college and meets the person to marry in college. Neither was true for me or any of my close friends either. Being out of college, I've had incoming and outgoing seasons where friends would all get married and then no one would get married and then a lot of people would get married again and then would stop. It is HARD. So I don't want to lie or advise you in a way that is not truthful. Yes, it is a reality that she could never get married. Lonely forever? I think that's only by choice really. 

I would encourage your friend to do a couple of things...

1. Begin to read the Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke, John). I'm reading them now and there are so many places where they are forced to trust and believe. It's a reminder that we CAN trust and what happens when we don't. 

2. Begin praying for a belief in trusting God. If I have prayed one prayer a million times, it has been that of the man in the NT who says, "Overcome my unbelief" because I am truly a terrible believer. 

This statement from her: "Trusting God has a plan is so much easier said than done, but right now, I'm terrified that what my expectations for His plan are and what His plan truly is are COMPLETELY different things."

All true. Way easier said than done. It takes time. His plans are completely different than our plans. I began to see Psalm 37:4 so differently, "Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." It doesn't say ask for what you want and then believe God will give it to you. Spend time with him, seek Him out in your own time and time with Godly friends, walk closely with Him while you have so much time. THEN He will give you the desires of your heart. I will tell you that those desires will change and they will look different in 10 years than they do right now, married or not. NONE of my life plans look or seem like what I thought-- and it's disappointing and heart-warming at the same time. Had I married the guy I thought God wanted me to or stayed where I thought He wanted me to or worked at the place I thought He wanted me to and not actually completed the task that He gave me, my life would also look different but I have to choose obedience over want, trusting that He does know what is best. I have prayed for a Godly man for 10 years and I am still waiting (which will provide no encouragement for your friend) but that is reality sometimes but the beauty is that God knows us better than we know ourselves and we can trust that He will provide in His time and not because we have the right formula. I will be praying for her and you as she trusts you with a lot of things in her heart. Praying for wisdom..."

I found the original blue index card with my original list for my future man. Every quality I was praying for in the man I married. You know what? They haven't really changed. If they have changed, they have actually changed back to my original list. The desires God gave me, He has kept. 

This card is now 10 years old. That makes me nervous and feel old and anticipate a lot of things. 

However, it was a peaceful sweet reminder that God is faithful. A prayer I began praying a little over 10 years ago has yet to be answered in my eyes but has been fully named and answered in His. 

God sees me and loves me and knows the desire of every piece of my heart: every person, plan, career, book writing topic. Every single thing I've prayed about... He knows. That's a relief. 

That's all I want to say right now because I'm a little overwhelmed but very thankful. 

He knows me well. -Melis

Tell me you don't want to go home... {on immigrants}

I moved to Las Vegas eight years ago this week.

It would be a lie to say it has been easy. It has been fun and it is been enjoyable and it has been hard. The transition was not easy and finding a place to fit in was a DEFINITELY not easy. Sometimes I feel like I even still don't know my place but I do know it, I'm just sometimes in denial.

At the school I teach at, the students are all new to the country. They have mostly lived in the U.S. for less than 4 years. Some stories are different and there are a few exceptions but that is pretty much the rule. Many of them have multiple family members and friends in the countries they have come from. They have stories there, haunting pasts, sick family members that can't leave or are too old, and places that they dearly loved.

It is easy for me to say as a person who grew up in America that once I'm in America, I should love everything about it. I should speak English automatically and know how to read road signs and follow laws. I should attend school regularly and make straight A's because that's everyone's expectations. THAT IS NOT REALISTIC MY FRIENDS.

My students and their families came to the United States for better opportunities. They are not perfect and they do not speak English correctly and they do not always follow the law because sometimes they just don't know. They don't know the attendance rules and they MISS HOME. Many of their parents sent them to live with someone to attend school and a university because they can take what they learned and have a better life than their parents.

Sometimes I miss home and I just grew up in a different part of the country. Home home is SO incredibly different than Las Vegas. I love city life but sometimes I just want to go to a small Mexican restaurant without driving to the other side of the world and I want to eat Chick-Fil-A on my way home from work and I want sweet tea to be served at every restaurant. I want someone to speak to me with a southern accent and not tell me that the way I say the words "white" and "why" and "what" is funny. It's not weird that I speak slower or dress differently. Those things are familiar to me. Those are home to me.

My students miss home. They miss the familiarity of everyone who speaks the same language and eats the same food and school is the same way. And they miss so much more than that. 

Yet, we complain that they don't stand for the pledge to the American flag. They don't truly know what freedom is in America yet... they are still figuring it out. Should we teach this? Yes, absolutely! 100%. They don't understand the military and the respect for the military because the military and the people in government abused the system and took away their freedoms in their own countries and they had nothing but they had everything. When they came to the US, they came with a suitcase of their small amount of belongings and they moved into the house of a distant relative to live for a few years. Some of my kids came to America and they didn't know they were staying. They thought it was a vacation, a sports trip and they stayed. They miss home. 

And when you tell me that a person should go back to their home, sometimes the home is not there. The feelings and memories and people are there but it is not the same. And they are scared of that too. 

So as you're vacationing this summer at the beach and you miss your bed, think of my kids, think of their beds in their nice houses in their countries that they miss because it smells and sounds and looks familiar. Please don't roll your eyes at the family who's speaking Spanish or Arabic or Farsi or Thai or Chinese or Aramaic or anything else for that matter because those are my kids families. Those people are someone's family and someone who missed home just like you. Someone who has worked really hard to take their family on a vacation and to a nice dinner. You know what? Pay for their meal. Surprise them. Send them a plate of dessert and they may not know what to do but let's show them that Americans can be kind and nice and not judgmental. Ask them questions about their accent and country and tell them how much you want to travel (only if you really do- don't lie, of course). Ask them if they still have family there and what job they have here. Ask them what's different.

Actually look at them and pay attention to the way they're just like you. Because sometimes we all just want to go to our own beds and our own time clocks and our own lives but we were meant for relationships, to serve and encourage one another. I DARE you to take one opportunity this summer to reach out to someone who makes you uncomfortable and do something nice. That begins to make it feel more like home. :)

-Melis

One is NOT enough. It's a lie. Sorry.... (but sorry I'm not sorry?)

But you know how I am. I'm actually not sorry at all. At all, at all, on this one. Because I am adamant and impatient and tired of people who make up stupid rules and things we follow. 

Sunday night, I was walking into church and James, the student pastor, stopped me and said, "Happy Mother's Day and I mean that because you have more kids than anyone sitting in that room." It took a lot out of me to not cry at that very second. Holidays are hard without family and when you feel a little purposeless but he's right... I have a dang huge group of crazies. All mine. All non-genetic crazies... taught crazy.

Today, I read a message from a student I've had this year who recently decided to go to a different school so he could take more classes at a time. He said this in his struggling English:

"I could not tell all the thanks that I want say, thanks for all ms, I never forget every single thing that you do you do for me, thanks for believe in me, trust me, when I come to this country all the people that I knew, told me that in this country nobody helped to anybody here, thanks for change that, you have a big, so big heart, i wish a lot success in your life."

You're telling me one is enough?

One is never enough.

Tell my boy who sent this message that one is enough... what if he came too late or didn't speak English well enough for me to stop and see him? He's not my only kid... he's not. And he knew that. His care was singled out because of his effort but I have a one in every class throughout the day. (on a bad day!) I saw a post earlier that said if you can impact one student by the end of the year, then you've done your work or something... really? I could not disagree more. One is not enough.  And I could argue this with you all day long, which would be the biggest waste of my time ever.

If I have 75 students come into my classroom and I have impacted one, I fail. I used to have 150-200 every day, imagine that I only picked one? I would be a terrible teacher!

If the case is that I only impact one, I don't do my job. I fail the 74 who walk in and out that are never impacted. That makes me a crappy person and a crappy human being. ((My kids don't know they are my favorite and most stressful project/love.)) I'm going to ask them the hard questions and get on their level and ask them what's wrong when they least expect it (hence the crying weeks I have sometimes).

I hate the fairness argument but I love it all the same. I'm NOT saying that I impact every kid. You should know that I don't get along with a lot of snotty high school girls because they are snotty high school girls and they don't want to get along. There's some kids that don't click with me but really love some of their other teachers and I've gotten to the point to where I'm okay with that.

BUT, if we go back to the 'one theory' how fair am I to the 75 kids I have when I'm basically telling them... "Hey, you know what? I have only one kid to impact this year and if you're the lucky one, you might be it!" That sounds stupid and if you're angry about this whole thing, it's because you love the one theory. The 'one' theory makes me cringe. It makes me hurt and it makes me wonder whether my teachers thought I was good enough to the be 'the one' in my classes. My teachers didn't see it like that. We were all equally annoying and equally loved.

I'm glad my parents didn't believe the 'one' theory. They didn't pick favorites. Tell me how ridiculous parents would look if they had three kids and said, "If I can spend my life and impact one." They would be considered the worst parents of all time and I would have to agree with them. They're the worst.

What if nurses and doctors believed the one theory? "Well, we got to one today!" Well, I'm sorry but you had 15 patients in a night and 24 appointments. I think they all expected to be impacted in some way!

The starfish story is one of my favorites but it's also baloney. What that little boy was doing was taking handfuls of starfish and making a difference to them... to the many... to the masses. No one told you that part because they don't want to make you feel bad. What he was actually looking for was a bucket so he could pick them up in larger quantities. So he could make bigger and better change. He did impact the ones he threw back one by one but it was still done in mass. They may have felt the effects were individual but they were also thankful for the friends and family of starfish who were tossed back in too.

Dear friends-- please stop believing that your life was placed here to impact one person. It may only be one person a day or one person that week but what if the true reality was that we could impact one person per hour? That changes our 1 to 24 and our 1 to 48. What if I we just went with one a day? We could impact 365 people a year.

Now tell me what you would prefer... 1 or 24? 1 or 365? I'll take the 365 and wear myself out over it because someone believed I was the one but I was the one worth it in the moment... those people are now impacting other people and the cycle reproduces. Stop believing the lie.

You were meant for more. SO. much. more. And so was I. And it's not going to be easy but you will be thankful in the end. Because maybe only one will actually tell you what you meant to them. The other 74 won't say a word, but you impacted them all the same. The one just was brave enough to say thanks.
-Melis

A place of rest, a refuge.. when I trust.

I work myself up like no other. If it's unexpected, then whatever. If it's planned, my over analytical is a hot mess. (and my over analytical refers to my minute, tiny brain.)

...Rewind back to the Friday before Spring Break when one of my boys broke down. Something about March and Fridays and families makes my boys cave. And they break my heart. Sweet thing just needed to get a lot out of his head and heart and he cried real tears and I cried too and we both just stood there and cried and that's how my Spring Break started. With tears. Lots of them. He said some of the most meaningful things to me though in the midst of the seeming mess when I reminded them that there was absolutely nothing wrong with what he had as his goals for his future. These are some of the things he said...

'No one else is like you.'

'No one else thinks like you do.'

'No one else believes the same things you do.' 

'I've been here for 4 or 5 years and I've never met anyone like you.'

STOP. You stop it right there. My heart was feeling about four hundred emotions at this point because I know a lot of the time I'm one of the only ones that does believe the things I do in the environment that I'm in. That's not the first time I've been told that. It's not the first time I've believed statements like that about myself either. It's not the first time I've known that. I got a message from one of my boys from 8th grade today asking me to come to an art show of his. I literally haven't heard from him in 3 or 4 years. There's something God is doing in me that I can't always see but he does.

...and sometimes Satan has a hay day with it. He makes it a challenge and I get really confused about what is right and wrong and what I should and should not do. And I get myself in a worked up mess, physically sick mess when God is just like, "Are you ready to start being normal and stop being so over dramatic now?" A lot of times, my answer is something like, "No but thanks for asking," "Give me a minute (or hour) on that one, would you?," or the normal say nothing and pretend that He can't see what you're doing or can't hear what you're thinking (or saying out loud if you're me) nonsense. I realize this seems completely over the top and ridiculous but I'm just being real with you.

A lot of times when Jesus wrecks my life and turns things upside down, He opens up my eyes to see things that I can't otherwise and I become overly sensitive and nervous about all of it. What if I mess it up? What if I don't know what to say? What if I do the wrong thing? What if... what if... what if... if the Guinness Book of World Records could see inside my brain, I feel certain I would hold a record for thinking the most ridiculous thoughts within seconds.

"...do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you." (Matthew 10:19b-20)

What if I turned my what if questions around and asked God what He wanted to use me for?

What if He took everything I know about Christianity and God out the window and replaced all of the nonsense with His word clear and true?

What if He completely wrecked my emotions as a means to get my attention?

Likely... all of those things likely. And really, all of those things really happening. I'm the moving feet and the gentle hands and the soft tears and the warm smile and the refuge of Jesus to some of my kids. A place where they can trust and seek peace. I may be the first (and prayerfully, not the last), but I know that He has placed me exactly where He wants me for a reason and those kids are a big part of that reason. -Melis

"Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge." Psalm 62:5-8

Does listening to a marriage sermon ever get easier?

I have to be just gut honest. When I realized what 1 Peter 3 was about this morning after a beautiful presentation about the Gospel, I wanted to leave the church service. Seeing that this would be inappropriate, I sat and just wondered/prayed if there would be any message/hope for the single girl sitting in the middle of the room who wants to be married. Aka me. Sermons about marriage are not always easy for me. Okay, honestly, they're never easy.

I was having a wonderful morning after battling a little "Why you are you still single and lonely and boring" pretty much the whole weekend. I desperately needed rest this and to catch up on sleep and naps and eating at home but I was excited about going to church this morning and to lunch after. It was the longest I've been out of the house all weekend because sometimes I need to hibernate because my introverted self can't take so many people so many times.

When I walked into church, there was nothing weird or strange and my anticipation wasn't heightened or not there, it was just a pretty normal church feeling (which is not bad for me either). We're singing and then I'm not because I kept thinking about a book I read this morning and I'm analyzing in my head whether what we are doing is really glorifying God or not. (These are the things I'm thinking about while I'm carrying on conversations with you most of the time and I'm sorry. As sorry as I can be anyways.) When we sat down to start the message and I realized it was on husbands and wives, my heart just sank.

The same way that a heart sinks in sermons about children for the mother who is not able to have kids or has lost a child. The same way that a heart sinks about marriage and legacy for the spouse who has lost a spouse. The same way Father's Day is hard for the child who's lost his or her Father and Mother's Day is hard for the woman who doesn't feel she's good enough to be a mom. Or a spouse who's husband or wife is deployed on Veteran's Day and Memorial Day. Life just isn't easy and that's real. Sermons aren't easy to hear and that's real. 

I'm so thankful to Jesus that I was sitting with Shannon and Carson, because otherwise, I would have just cried throughout the entire service and have been so angry because marriage sermons are hard for me. The only brief break I felt was when I could think about politics for a few minutes and trying to figure out what other people were thinking but that didn't really make any difference. The only time being single was addressed was in the prayer at the end when they asked us to pray for our future spouse if we desired to be married. I just cried. Plain cried.

I'm not sure what the church is supposed to do really here. I understand that when you're teaching through a book of the Bible, you can't pick and choose what is taught (nor can you at any other time really) so you can't skip over husbands and wives and such because it's there. It's also not that I have a problem with it being there or with them preaching on it. It's just hard to sit through it when you're not "there" so to say.

I do want to be married and to have someone to live life with and go on adventures with and travel with and talk to and vent to and listen to and learn from and love well. And I don't want to just be married to be married or to say I'm married. And I realize that marriage does not solve problems or make life easier or make anything less complicated because I completely believe that it changes everything but when something you want is something you can't have at the moment, it's a little bit difficult to sit and pray and patiently wait or take notes for something that doesn't apply at the moment. I didn't even play the comparison game like I usually do today. (Miracles do happen.) I am just begging God to either help me be content in the process or just help me be content in the process.

Still praying and believing that Jesus is sending a sweet man to me who loves Him more than anything else. I know he won't be perfect and it probably won't be anything like everything in my head but I'm okay with that. I want to walk with a man who loves Jesus and loves people and the rest of it, we can figure out in the process.

I don't know if listening to marriage sermons will ever be easier for me while I'm single (which seems like a million years so far) but I do know that I can trust God to know what's best and that can be enough at this moment. I may question it in 5 minutes but He's pretty patient with me even though I'm not with Him. I'm really grateful for that. Still praying. Thanks for listening. -Melis

Messy hair. Pretty nails. All ears. Blind men.

Life is so complicated that I cannot begin to express the nth in which I believe this. You never know it when you're young and sheltered and then you grow up and realize that life wasn't all that easy then either. You just had some Angels, parents and grandparents and loving people, who guarded all of that yuck-o stuff from you. 

In all the pictures of adult women, they always looked so put together. I mean, honestly, how do I not wash my hair and I'm dirty and a celebrity doesn't wash her hair and its a thing. How is that a thing really? Last week, I pinned my hair back three days in a row-- it was wet and messy and falling everywhere and I really could have cared less because I was so tired in the morning. Thursday afternoon, one of my compassionate "sons" was like you look really nice today, you fixed your hair.... Implying wow, you have tools and items at your house that allow you to style your hair so you look like a decent human being. Barely, son, barely. 

Another one of my boys had been having a rough week, and I had been patiently asking AKA nagging him to no end, trying to figure out what was wrong. When he broke it down for me while my entire class was outside, my ears miraculously opened and I could hear him... Actually listen to what he was saying and hear him and see him for what was really going on. I thought my lack of sleep called for a messy hair day and the vain attempt at pretty nails to cover up the mess in my brain that was kind of falling apart. I'm just like that sometimes so once k finally had myself together on the outside, I was possibly approachable for a kid who's inside is coming apart. 

The crowd rebuked them and told them to be quiet but they shouted all the louder, "Lord, Son of David, have mercy on us!" 

Jesus stopped and called them. "What do you want me to do for you?" He asked.

"Lord," they answered, "we want our sight."

Jesus had compassion on them and to used their eyes. Immediately they received their sight and followed them. 

(Matthew 20:31-34)

Jesus sat with my boy and all his words from his brain and took my messy mind and cleared it for a moment. He gave me ears and him sight. For the first time in a bit that I remembered. So today, when he stared off into space, with tear-rimmed eyes... I knew that my seemingly uncomplicated life needed to pause and take notice for a minute to fill up a space and open my ears. My messy hair and messy nail beds and put together outside didn't make any difference but it gave me a minute. A minute to pass the rebukes of the world who tells me all the freaking time to stop listening to kids and stop investing in my job and to take more time for myself. Those voices were shut down and silenced and it was the men, "Lord, we want our sight." The words changed a little, "I want to be seen and heard."

But Jesus's compassion remains the same. Constant in every rebuke and complicated life. In every moment that makes no sense to us. In ever injustice. It covers up vain attempts on the outside with beautiful righteousness and He puts His hands and feet on us and they get to be seen by those who get to receive their sight. A beautiful picture to be seen, especially if you've ever walked through darkness or being blind. 

May He heal my blindness and your blindness too. And may we stop covering up the little things in our lives but let His love and grace and compassion cover and spill over.

-Melis 

A note to self on a crappy day.

It's been a while since I've posted. It's been a crazy month and a half and I've given myself a pretty hard time more than once. I've had a few, okay maybe a lot, of bad days. That's just real life. So today was crappy and I was sick yesterday so I decided to write myself a little note that I will also allow you to read... Here tis.

Dear self on a crappy day,

It's okay to have a bad day. It really is. Sometimes there's a few in a row and you just do what you tell your kids to do, you suck it up. "Don't take your anger out on everyone else." Or is that just something you say to kids but don't really mean? Yeah, it was a frustrating morning and you were really tired and that happens.

Your kids were glad you were back at school because the substitute teacher was so weird. It's okay for you to file a formal complaint (as formal as you get) on him. It's also okay that he threw your kids work that they weren't even supposed to do in the trash can. Oh wait, that's not okay and yes, you were justified in giving them a free pass for a warm-up for a day. Your third period didn't listen to you, they usually don't but let's focus on the positive for a second. At least a few of them turned in their missing work and one of the girls you've been worried about did promise to bring everything she owns regarding school tomorrow. So yeah, you're a little disappointed about a few other things and you took a few things personally that probably shouldn't have been taken personally but sometimes people do mean for you to take them personally and you give people the benefit of the doubt a lot but you don't HAVE to talk to those people. So here's a few pieces of advice that maybe you'll remember on a crappy day...

1. People that aren't personal don't say things for you to take them personally. They're just saying things. You know what you know about yourself and that's done.

2. It's okay for you to get mad at a kid because they're treating you crappy because they just need to talk for a minute about what a terrible day they're having and they had a bad day yesterday too and you weren't there. And they sent you a message to make sure you would be at school today.

3. Talking to kids is like talking to brick walls 74.3% of the time. They're just hard to work with. Give yourself some grace, you're working your butt off.

4. You don't have to take everyone's advice because a lot of people don't know what they're talking about. Be wise in who you listen to and stop comparing yourself to other people. They don't make it any better. And comparing yourself doesn't make it any better, just worse, so take your own advice and remember that Roosevelt was right when he said, "Comparison is the thief of joy." You will never be someone else and those kids adore who you are.

5. One of your kids asked if you were stressed and he was definitely concerned. It's okay that you automatically thought, "Stressed backwards spells desserts," because you only ate a 60 calorie soup for lunch. What exactly were you thinking there?? So getting your ice cream after school was completely justified, even if it was out of your pocket money envelope. You still had it-- I'll show you Dave Ramsey.

6. There are a lot of people who care about you even when you don't feel like it. Sometimes we make choices over feelings and sometimes those feelings are really real. It's okay to be sensitive. It doesn't make you too much or not enough-- it just makes you YOU. And that's totally okay. That's what people already like about you anyways.

Now, go eat your dessert and cry a few minutes and take a breath and think of the small moments you missed today in stress and relive those for a while. It will get better, it always does. And you can still hate cliches and believe them at the same time-- that's completely normal.

Love, Melis