Tonight, I had some grading of test corrections to do. Bored from being home alone, I decided to venture out to Pei Wei. I was eating my kids meal and no one was really giving me really weird looks or pity looks (the look that says oh you poor thing, you deal with my kids all day). Now I know why I love Panera. I don't get weird comments from the employees. One wmployee tonight asked me if I was a teacher. "No, I'm not. I'm actually a paper grading thief who clearly needs something better to do with my time." What do you think! That wasn't enough for him though. He then had to insist that I should be relaxing, not grading papers. Yeah, that would be nice but these papers aren't going to grade themselves. THEN, when I was leaving, he said, "See ya later teach. You really shouldn't be grading papers." You know what!? You're right. I shouldn't be and students shouldn't be doing work for me to grade and I shouldn't have to spend all my time at work doing a million other things like the majority of the profession I work in... But this, this is what I really wanted to say....
I do teach. I do grade papers at home, in public places and on my phone if necessary. I read books and take classes to be a better teacher. I pay for these classes, they're not even free and when I need to renew my license, I get to pay for that too. Did I mention my healthcare is cheap but 25% of my check pays taxes? I like kids and I'm willing to go the extra mile. If other people in this world would do their part, then I could actually spend time everyday teaching students and I wouldn't have to do paperwork because all my kids and their families would do the right thing. I wouldn't have to spend my prep grading, planning, and cleaning because people would want to help. Oh yeah, and I could teach more and be more effective if I wasn't being a therapist, counselor, nurse, mom, aunt, baby-sitter, cousin, big sister, policeman, cia detective, fire fighter (not literally) and fact checker. I also wouldn't have to be a dictator or a crazy lady who should be in acting school, instead of a classroom. I will try not to be a jungle gym monitor, a playground guard, a zoo keeper or a circus trainer if people knew when to zip it. I could actually teach and you, my friend, could contribute to society in a kind way. Oh yeah, and my kids are high on the attitude scale and they know not to mess with me so please sir be my guest and give me more time in the day or teach me how to use my time in a more effective way while meeting the needs of 150+ students. Let me know how that goes...
That's what I wanted to say. But I didn't. I'm feisty (poor guy just didn't know) and have no patience to tolerate people who tell me to make time. There would really be no point if I could. So that's what I think. At the end of the day, I would rather be in a classroom of high-maintenance needy kids than I would be the public who clearly knows how to do my job better than me. The end. -Melissa
Thursday, October 18, 2012
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Wal-Mart and the Poor
Today, as I left Walmart I felt overwhelmingly convicted. I mean honestly, for all the times I feel convicted at Walmart, they should assign a pastor and potentially build an altar in front of the store for immediate counseling for me. It makes me a wreck. In the middle of the store, I always lose my patience and want to slap a parent who allows their child to scream for an hour straight... take the poor thing home (I'm not oblivious to the fact that kids pitch fits in stores, that is not the issue, it's the constant screaming for long periods of time and the facial expression of the parent that lets me know something's not right about the whole situation). I want to run my cart over the lady who stands in the middle of every aisle I'm in without considering anyone else. After I have recovered my body language and can stand upright again after the shock I've experienced, I finally make it to the register to stare at endless magazines of Hollywood crap and overpriced gum to on a good day be greeted by a nice cashier who doesn't want to kill everyone in the store herself. I should probably congratulate these cashiers more often. I look straight into the face of a Walmart employee who looks like a manager that was very rude to me at another store a couple of years ago and pull back my pride to allow him to step in front of me to purchase his lunch that he probably only has ten minutes to eat and the Lord knows he probably needs a week's vacation after working in this place. I just don't know how they do it.
Nevertheless, every single time, I'm ready to press a button to end that blasted store and kicking myself as to why I even bothered to go in there, God places a remarkable person in my path. I usually see them a ways off as they wander through the parking lot talking to various people and walking away nodding silently. This particular man today had two small children with him. They are not dressed for the season and look exhausted. The man approaches me for some change and I give him some and ask if he would like a bottle of water... he takes a couple for he and his kids and thanks me and goes on his way. I did nothing significant and really did not provide any major relief for whatever he is experiencing but God spoke something deep into me in that moment.
The church is very good at talking about the poor but very uncomfortable with doing something about it. I often hear other Christians talk about how homeless people should not walk through parking lots or stand at traffic lights with signs... they should go get a job, they should find a decent place to live.... Now imagine that you have no permanent place to live and therefore cannot receive an ID that would allow you to even complete a job application. Yes, I know that many people who are homeless, especially in the city of Las Vegas, are addicts to many things... gambling, relationships, drugs, alcohol, etc. However, is it really our job/right/duty/call to sit back and make those calls? To be the ones who decide? I was so convicted with how little we are convicted to do something about the poor in the places we live. We are often willing to get in a car, bus, or plane to travel to another place to do "missions" but we are not even serving people who need something small around us. I challenge you (and myself) to move past your comfort zone and give of yourself to someone who asks. You don't have to buy them a steak dinner or give them a $20... just give them a few minutes, a cheap hamburger, a bottle of water, something that can change their perspective for a moment. Go to Walmart and see who needs the life of Jesus in you. I guarantee that someone does, we just have to be willing to step out of us and into who He is to see it. -Melis
Nevertheless, every single time, I'm ready to press a button to end that blasted store and kicking myself as to why I even bothered to go in there, God places a remarkable person in my path. I usually see them a ways off as they wander through the parking lot talking to various people and walking away nodding silently. This particular man today had two small children with him. They are not dressed for the season and look exhausted. The man approaches me for some change and I give him some and ask if he would like a bottle of water... he takes a couple for he and his kids and thanks me and goes on his way. I did nothing significant and really did not provide any major relief for whatever he is experiencing but God spoke something deep into me in that moment.
The church is very good at talking about the poor but very uncomfortable with doing something about it. I often hear other Christians talk about how homeless people should not walk through parking lots or stand at traffic lights with signs... they should go get a job, they should find a decent place to live.... Now imagine that you have no permanent place to live and therefore cannot receive an ID that would allow you to even complete a job application. Yes, I know that many people who are homeless, especially in the city of Las Vegas, are addicts to many things... gambling, relationships, drugs, alcohol, etc. However, is it really our job/right/duty/call to sit back and make those calls? To be the ones who decide? I was so convicted with how little we are convicted to do something about the poor in the places we live. We are often willing to get in a car, bus, or plane to travel to another place to do "missions" but we are not even serving people who need something small around us. I challenge you (and myself) to move past your comfort zone and give of yourself to someone who asks. You don't have to buy them a steak dinner or give them a $20... just give them a few minutes, a cheap hamburger, a bottle of water, something that can change their perspective for a moment. Go to Walmart and see who needs the life of Jesus in you. I guarantee that someone does, we just have to be willing to step out of us and into who He is to see it. -Melis
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
What do we do with what we know?
"Talent is universal. Opportunity is not." -Nicholas Kristof, "Half the Sky"
I am a huge fan of Nicholas Kristof's work in the New York Times and in general. He goes where so many other writers do not, doesn't mind offending people (who normally need to be offended), and finds real issues, and as he would say, "Real heroes." He and his wife, Sheryl WuDunn, wrote a book together called Half the Sky. The book is about empowering women who have been oppressed in order to alleviate poverty in developing and developed countries. They don't focus on women's rights alone or who should be in charge, they just point out major changes that take place when women are empowered in society. Their book was recently made into a documentary that just aired on PBS. I didn't get to watch it on TV and only got to watch a few minutes of the first episode but watched the second episode in awe. It was worth procrastinating my graduate school homework over!
I actually don't know that I'll sleep tonight because there are a million things in my mind at the moment, either seen in the film or inspired by it. I can honestly walk away from the film knowing that I cannot continue going about my life the way I am. So with the introduction, I go back to my title-- "What do we do with what we know??" I posted the quote by Kristof at the top of the blog because it is worth thinking about.
In America/the West, we KNOW so much... those considered illiterate by Western standards would be considered highly intelligent in other societies. My principal says, "Education is the great equalizer." I think that's true. Education will change people, families, countries, societies, cultures and ultimately the world. Anyone can be talented like Kristof said but not everyone has the opportunity for education.
In my second trip to the continent of Africa, I was out on Lake Tanganyika (in northern Zambia) for 10 days. I had the opportunity to teach in the school, the alphabet for the little ones and English (I think--haha) with the older students. The chief of Nzovwe had several children, one of whom was in school in the older class. The 16ish-year-old girl was definitely clever and intelligent enough to be accepted into a university if she could get a formal education. However, there was not a FORMAL school there in the village. Her family was not willing to allow her to leave to get more of an education and the translator refused to tell the girl that I thought she could continue schooling. A clear sign of the lack of opportunity.
Yet, I teach around 160-180 students each day who have talent and opportunity and lack charisma and dedication to the subject. Does opportunity spoil us? What do we do with what we know??
I know what I do. Pray for those in another country to have the opportunity to be educated and loved. Nag the students who don't want to take the opportunity they are given and remind them that there are students just like them with the same talents with lots of charisma and dedication who do not have that opportunity. Tell me... what do you do with your opportunities? Just a thought :) -Melis
I am a huge fan of Nicholas Kristof's work in the New York Times and in general. He goes where so many other writers do not, doesn't mind offending people (who normally need to be offended), and finds real issues, and as he would say, "Real heroes." He and his wife, Sheryl WuDunn, wrote a book together called Half the Sky. The book is about empowering women who have been oppressed in order to alleviate poverty in developing and developed countries. They don't focus on women's rights alone or who should be in charge, they just point out major changes that take place when women are empowered in society. Their book was recently made into a documentary that just aired on PBS. I didn't get to watch it on TV and only got to watch a few minutes of the first episode but watched the second episode in awe. It was worth procrastinating my graduate school homework over!
I actually don't know that I'll sleep tonight because there are a million things in my mind at the moment, either seen in the film or inspired by it. I can honestly walk away from the film knowing that I cannot continue going about my life the way I am. So with the introduction, I go back to my title-- "What do we do with what we know??" I posted the quote by Kristof at the top of the blog because it is worth thinking about.
In America/the West, we KNOW so much... those considered illiterate by Western standards would be considered highly intelligent in other societies. My principal says, "Education is the great equalizer." I think that's true. Education will change people, families, countries, societies, cultures and ultimately the world. Anyone can be talented like Kristof said but not everyone has the opportunity for education.
In my second trip to the continent of Africa, I was out on Lake Tanganyika (in northern Zambia) for 10 days. I had the opportunity to teach in the school, the alphabet for the little ones and English (I think--haha) with the older students. The chief of Nzovwe had several children, one of whom was in school in the older class. The 16ish-year-old girl was definitely clever and intelligent enough to be accepted into a university if she could get a formal education. However, there was not a FORMAL school there in the village. Her family was not willing to allow her to leave to get more of an education and the translator refused to tell the girl that I thought she could continue schooling. A clear sign of the lack of opportunity.
Yet, I teach around 160-180 students each day who have talent and opportunity and lack charisma and dedication to the subject. Does opportunity spoil us? What do we do with what we know??
I know what I do. Pray for those in another country to have the opportunity to be educated and loved. Nag the students who don't want to take the opportunity they are given and remind them that there are students just like them with the same talents with lots of charisma and dedication who do not have that opportunity. Tell me... what do you do with your opportunities? Just a thought :) -Melis
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Ugly scars
About once a week, I have a semi-breakdown. It could be based on a variety of things. I hate the way my hair looks, a kid is mean, I get a dirty look from someone, I feel insecure, I am insecure, a movie feels like real life... you know? The usual :) About a month ago, after 4 scrapes of moles on my legs, I got a phone call from the doctor's office to inform me that at least two of those would have to be removed even more so and this time it would involve stitches. I reviewed in my last blog all the connotations that the word stitches includes in my mind: namely blood. I just don't do blood. Anyhow, after I recovered from all this madness, I realized that maybe my biggest fear wasn't that I had moles that could be cancerous in the future or even the stitches and my potential of passing out through my mental and visual sense of blood.
My biggest fear was that I would have multiple, visible scars on my legs.
Dramatically, I imagined the doctor would slice my leg wide open (at least 10 inches) and remove all the tissue, sew it back up, tell me I was fine but that I would have a huge white scar across my, once very tanned from the sun, legs. I was mortified at this thought. I know you're thinking, "How arrogant and conceited of you!" and rightfully so. It was very arrogant, very self-seeking, very conceited, very self-centered, very ME. At the end of the day, I am sinful and deceptive and just plain mean and this is one of the characteristics that allows SIN to show up in my life and to parade itself among the crowd.
I realized that the less than one inch scars that I actually now have are a visible sign of my inward ME-ness. They are a visible sign of a wretched past, deep regrets, painful memories and unswallowed pride. They are a visible sign of my inward ugly thoughts, a life fantasized but not real, a longing deep for something that someone else has, and a sign of my deepest insecurities-- including the way I look.
I struggled so much with a sense of self in middle school and high school. With a haircut and a small change of style, I received a good bit of attention at the end of 8th grade and moving into 9th grade. I allowed my physical beauty and looks to become a slave to boys who would compliment and stutter. I focused on how I could get their attention. I imagined the conversations I would carry on with them. They were not real. The attention that I got was not positive in the long run but only allowed me to become captive to being a people pleaser and worry. I worried about what others thought of me while attempting in some sort of way to please them with the way I looked, the facial expressions I presented, and the conversations I carried on with others. I bought into the lie that the only way I was beautiful was if someone told me so verbally. My sense of self was carried on the shoulders of boys who would smile at me and talk to my sister about wanting to date me. This was a very false sense of security but it continues to eat at the very core of who I am. It is another place that Satan lies to me the the most.
I don't have to find my security in others... my security alone is in Jesus. The moment I doubt that is the moment that Satan steps in to remind me of the un-beautiful parts of me. Believe me, there are many and there are deep scars that Jesus continues to recover and restore and heal but really that is the beautiful thing... a Jesus who doesn't give up on making me beautiful. One who bore nails on a cross and accepted nails in His hands creating scars that cannot be taken away. If it weren't for His scars, however, I wouldn't have the opportunity to be beautiful or redeemed. So may my scars be a deep, solid reminder of His, once again, sweet faithfulness to me. May your scars do the same. -Melissa
"God's nature is spurred by His goodness, not our worthiness." -Max Lucado
My biggest fear was that I would have multiple, visible scars on my legs.
Dramatically, I imagined the doctor would slice my leg wide open (at least 10 inches) and remove all the tissue, sew it back up, tell me I was fine but that I would have a huge white scar across my, once very tanned from the sun, legs. I was mortified at this thought. I know you're thinking, "How arrogant and conceited of you!" and rightfully so. It was very arrogant, very self-seeking, very conceited, very self-centered, very ME. At the end of the day, I am sinful and deceptive and just plain mean and this is one of the characteristics that allows SIN to show up in my life and to parade itself among the crowd.
I realized that the less than one inch scars that I actually now have are a visible sign of my inward ME-ness. They are a visible sign of a wretched past, deep regrets, painful memories and unswallowed pride. They are a visible sign of my inward ugly thoughts, a life fantasized but not real, a longing deep for something that someone else has, and a sign of my deepest insecurities-- including the way I look.
I struggled so much with a sense of self in middle school and high school. With a haircut and a small change of style, I received a good bit of attention at the end of 8th grade and moving into 9th grade. I allowed my physical beauty and looks to become a slave to boys who would compliment and stutter. I focused on how I could get their attention. I imagined the conversations I would carry on with them. They were not real. The attention that I got was not positive in the long run but only allowed me to become captive to being a people pleaser and worry. I worried about what others thought of me while attempting in some sort of way to please them with the way I looked, the facial expressions I presented, and the conversations I carried on with others. I bought into the lie that the only way I was beautiful was if someone told me so verbally. My sense of self was carried on the shoulders of boys who would smile at me and talk to my sister about wanting to date me. This was a very false sense of security but it continues to eat at the very core of who I am. It is another place that Satan lies to me the the most.
I don't have to find my security in others... my security alone is in Jesus. The moment I doubt that is the moment that Satan steps in to remind me of the un-beautiful parts of me. Believe me, there are many and there are deep scars that Jesus continues to recover and restore and heal but really that is the beautiful thing... a Jesus who doesn't give up on making me beautiful. One who bore nails on a cross and accepted nails in His hands creating scars that cannot be taken away. If it weren't for His scars, however, I wouldn't have the opportunity to be beautiful or redeemed. So may my scars be a deep, solid reminder of His, once again, sweet faithfulness to me. May your scars do the same. -Melissa
"God's nature is spurred by His goodness, not our worthiness." -Max Lucado
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Why is everybody freaking out?
I have felt like this whole week has been full of freak out moments. Lots of them. From me, other teachers, students, me, other people, me... okay so they're mostly me.
What is it in us that causes us to panic, be anxious, be nervous, fear?? I was in the Galleria Mall yesterday looking at this so cute, cheap pair of earrings next to these two teenage girls when the floor literally began to shake. I thought there was something wrong with me, like maybe my food didn't settle well but when I looked straight into the face of the girl next to me, I knew I was not the only one that felt it. The jewelry also began to shake and rattle... we both looked around the rest of the store who seemed to not feel a thing... I don't know what it was, whether it was a small tremor of an earthquake or the Lochness Monster living below the mall, but either way, it freaked me out.
Last week, I had the second set of stitches on my leg after removing a second mole. I have had 4 removed in the last month and a half with 3 needed additional removal... aka stitches. I'm not sure if you know this about me, but I'm not the kind of girl to feel the need to heal anyone medically if there is a possibility or prospect of blood. I just don't do blood. It has caused me to be lightheaded and even pass out since I was in elementary school. I don't know what it's like to not be bothered by it. {In the meantime, I'm so thankful for Vanessa, Teri, and my mom who have all made sure that I don't go to the doctor by myself, that I call someone when it's over and that I don't make any stupid decisions while I'm partially light headed :) What good people I have in my life!} Both times I have had stitches, I have almost passed out. I know the signs of what's about to happen so I take much better care of myself than I would have previously. I have looked at the nurse, told her I was lying down, asked her for water to drink and a wet washcloth for my forehead. Give it 5ish minutes following and then I am just fine. Ask me to leave, I'll drop right on the tile floor in the hallway where you escort all patients. I still have another set of stitches to go and already it makes me tense. But what is it that gets inside my head and causes me to freak out? My fear and lightheadness because of blood is more of a brain thing than my loss of blood... I mean yes, I probably do have low iron levels that can cause all of the above symptoms but not bad enough to make me almost pass out.
All of my issues of freaking out really center around one thing.... it hurts to even type it, I don't trust God with my life. I want to and I want to continue looking and purchasing cheap jewelry at the Forever21 counter but I didn't because fear completely ran through my body faster than cells reproduce. I want to trust God. It is an area I find myself constantly at war with. I love God, I believe Him, He has been faithful to me, I know He wants and has what's best for me... and yet, I believe the lies of the Enemy faster than I can remember the Truth of God. Why do I freak out??
Bottom line-- if I know God's Word, I am much more apt to lean on it, if I'm out of it, I'm out. There are lots of verses I need in me for the sake of being reminded of the faithfulness of God and the lack of fear I find in Him. For in Him, there is only trust to be had. He is so good to me. May you trust Him too- Melis
P.S. A few weekends ago, I was a part of Beth Moore's simulcast where she talked about fear. The link below gives you a link to a whole set of verses about fear specifically that you can download, memorize and put in various places. May you forge on in trust!!!
http://blog.lproof.org/2012/09/as-promised-the-great-forsake-and-take.html
What is it in us that causes us to panic, be anxious, be nervous, fear?? I was in the Galleria Mall yesterday looking at this so cute, cheap pair of earrings next to these two teenage girls when the floor literally began to shake. I thought there was something wrong with me, like maybe my food didn't settle well but when I looked straight into the face of the girl next to me, I knew I was not the only one that felt it. The jewelry also began to shake and rattle... we both looked around the rest of the store who seemed to not feel a thing... I don't know what it was, whether it was a small tremor of an earthquake or the Lochness Monster living below the mall, but either way, it freaked me out.
Last week, I had the second set of stitches on my leg after removing a second mole. I have had 4 removed in the last month and a half with 3 needed additional removal... aka stitches. I'm not sure if you know this about me, but I'm not the kind of girl to feel the need to heal anyone medically if there is a possibility or prospect of blood. I just don't do blood. It has caused me to be lightheaded and even pass out since I was in elementary school. I don't know what it's like to not be bothered by it. {In the meantime, I'm so thankful for Vanessa, Teri, and my mom who have all made sure that I don't go to the doctor by myself, that I call someone when it's over and that I don't make any stupid decisions while I'm partially light headed :) What good people I have in my life!} Both times I have had stitches, I have almost passed out. I know the signs of what's about to happen so I take much better care of myself than I would have previously. I have looked at the nurse, told her I was lying down, asked her for water to drink and a wet washcloth for my forehead. Give it 5ish minutes following and then I am just fine. Ask me to leave, I'll drop right on the tile floor in the hallway where you escort all patients. I still have another set of stitches to go and already it makes me tense. But what is it that gets inside my head and causes me to freak out? My fear and lightheadness because of blood is more of a brain thing than my loss of blood... I mean yes, I probably do have low iron levels that can cause all of the above symptoms but not bad enough to make me almost pass out.
All of my issues of freaking out really center around one thing.... it hurts to even type it, I don't trust God with my life. I want to and I want to continue looking and purchasing cheap jewelry at the Forever21 counter but I didn't because fear completely ran through my body faster than cells reproduce. I want to trust God. It is an area I find myself constantly at war with. I love God, I believe Him, He has been faithful to me, I know He wants and has what's best for me... and yet, I believe the lies of the Enemy faster than I can remember the Truth of God. Why do I freak out??
Bottom line-- if I know God's Word, I am much more apt to lean on it, if I'm out of it, I'm out. There are lots of verses I need in me for the sake of being reminded of the faithfulness of God and the lack of fear I find in Him. For in Him, there is only trust to be had. He is so good to me. May you trust Him too- Melis
P.S. A few weekends ago, I was a part of Beth Moore's simulcast where she talked about fear. The link below gives you a link to a whole set of verses about fear specifically that you can download, memorize and put in various places. May you forge on in trust!!!
http://blog.lproof.org/2012/09/as-promised-the-great-forsake-and-take.html
Sunday, September 9, 2012
He never failed me yet.
In high school choir, we sang this gospel song called, "He never failed me yet." I was getting into/being a newish Christian and was just learning the song because it was what our director picked out. I didn't think too much about the words or what I was actually saying. I was more concerned about pitch and staccato notes and such.
It's so strange the things we remember. I find myself singing this song all the time. The truth about this song is that it is truth. The words to the chorus of the song are as follows:
"I will sing of God's mercy, every day, every hour, He gives me power.
I will sing, and give thanks to thee for all the dangers, toils, and snares that He has brought me out.
He is my God and I'll serve Him. No matter what the test.
Trust and never doubt, Jesus will surely bring you out. He never failed me yet."
How real those lyrics are to me now. How real my God has been. How good He has been and how He has NEVER failed me. How often I fail Him! (and how thankful I am for grace!)
School started back two weeks ago and boy, has it been crazy, weird, busy, fun, annoying, all the usual adjectives that work with middle schoolers. I felt so rested coming in to the school year from a fantastic and semi-lazy summer that was definitely needed in my life. Already, in the first two weeks, there have been a few students who have latched on for whatever reason. I so adore some of them and some of the others already know what drives me crazy (not exactly the wisdom in me that reveals this). I always have this great fear of not connecting with my students, if I missed Jesus telling me to go somewhere else, if my stubbornness caused me to stay, if my unwillingness to change led me down a path that I was not to go. Especially yesterday... as I prayer walked with a group of people around the neighborhood of my school to see the true conditions my students live and breathe in.
The devil is a liar and he will lie for as long as we let Him. While I'm praying wondering why in the world God chose me for another year at Mack, the devil whispers all of my inadequacies, how many students I've missed, my deepest insecurities, my darkest secrets... every single thing he can use as ammunition against me. God's softest whisper is louder than the devil's lies... "You're here for them..." and He would bring a face to my mind and another and another and remind me of what I already know about their life situations and their need for help and ultimately, their need to be loved by a Savior and the place Jesus has given me to love them for a short period in their life. Satan seems powerful to us, but he has been overcome by Jesus and yet, we walk in defeat, acting as if we have been failed.
He hasn't failed us. Just as He calls me to walk back into Mack tomorrow and live on the front lines of the devil's waging war, He has called you to walk knowing that His mercies are new every morning and His faithfulness is never changing. He never fails us. May that be the song of your heart. -Melis
It's so strange the things we remember. I find myself singing this song all the time. The truth about this song is that it is truth. The words to the chorus of the song are as follows:
"I will sing of God's mercy, every day, every hour, He gives me power.
I will sing, and give thanks to thee for all the dangers, toils, and snares that He has brought me out.
He is my God and I'll serve Him. No matter what the test.
Trust and never doubt, Jesus will surely bring you out. He never failed me yet."
How real those lyrics are to me now. How real my God has been. How good He has been and how He has NEVER failed me. How often I fail Him! (and how thankful I am for grace!)
School started back two weeks ago and boy, has it been crazy, weird, busy, fun, annoying, all the usual adjectives that work with middle schoolers. I felt so rested coming in to the school year from a fantastic and semi-lazy summer that was definitely needed in my life. Already, in the first two weeks, there have been a few students who have latched on for whatever reason. I so adore some of them and some of the others already know what drives me crazy (not exactly the wisdom in me that reveals this). I always have this great fear of not connecting with my students, if I missed Jesus telling me to go somewhere else, if my stubbornness caused me to stay, if my unwillingness to change led me down a path that I was not to go. Especially yesterday... as I prayer walked with a group of people around the neighborhood of my school to see the true conditions my students live and breathe in.
The devil is a liar and he will lie for as long as we let Him. While I'm praying wondering why in the world God chose me for another year at Mack, the devil whispers all of my inadequacies, how many students I've missed, my deepest insecurities, my darkest secrets... every single thing he can use as ammunition against me. God's softest whisper is louder than the devil's lies... "You're here for them..." and He would bring a face to my mind and another and another and remind me of what I already know about their life situations and their need for help and ultimately, their need to be loved by a Savior and the place Jesus has given me to love them for a short period in their life. Satan seems powerful to us, but he has been overcome by Jesus and yet, we walk in defeat, acting as if we have been failed.
He hasn't failed us. Just as He calls me to walk back into Mack tomorrow and live on the front lines of the devil's waging war, He has called you to walk knowing that His mercies are new every morning and His faithfulness is never changing. He never fails us. May that be the song of your heart. -Melis
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Our temptation to shrink real life.
[Side note: I'm not really sure what exactly I was thinking with that title but I'm not sure how else to explain it.]
Have you ever had a day? Just a bad day and you think that you must be the only person in the world that has ever just had a bad day? We know this is not realistic and yet we sometimes need to sink into that for just a few minutes to get a grip on the reality of our lives and how we feel. I learned a very important lesson this summer at the Holocaust conference. They gave us guidelines to teach the Holocaust and one of them is not to minimize or compare the story of the Holocaust and it's reality by simulating it. I'm not sure if that makes sense... let me describe it to you... during the Holocaust 11 million people died, we can't really wrap our brains around that. (I tried to, it's useless.) This is just the number that we know of, that doesn't include those who were sick or wounded, it doesn't include the conditions in which they died or their hope or desire to survive. It's just a number. However, often (I'm so guilty of this) in order to make it relevant, we describe it by comparison. Really, what can you compare that to? I can take the symptoms of the Holocaust and compare it to, say, a genocide in Rwanda or Cambodia or Armenia but they are still not equivalent. They're all dramatic situations in which a group(s) of people was targeted but we cannot minimize the mass fatality of the Holocaust by talking about Rwanda. Just can't be done.
We do this to people all the time. Instead of walking with someone through a hardship, we are quick to say, "I know what you mean.... I've felt the same way...I dealt with the same situation...etc." Get my drift? However, we don't know what they mean, we haven't felt the same way, and we haven't dealt with the same situation. (Often, we say things so they'll stop talking to us about this-- do we really care about people? More a question to me than you.) On the surface, they do look the same, they do seem to feel the same or deal with situations the same way but varying circumstances define so much of how people look and deal with situations that we cannot possibly rank in comparison. Sometimes, we need to let people feel for a few minutes. Let them get the unrealistic ideas out and then let them process through realism. (This is not AT ALL a blog of excuses for people who constantly throw pity parties--different time, different place.) As they process the realism, jump in. How did you deal with a 'similar' situation? Note: the word similar does not imply the same... they're not. Rather than overlook their emotions for a few minutes, give them time to grasp what's really going on.
When we compare, we shrink real life for people. I mean, honestly, you're not going to walk up to a three year old boy learning to walk and when he falls over, yell in his face like a drill sergeant, "BE A MAN!" You're not (and if you do, those are completely different issues that I will, more than likely, not touch on in this blog EVER). Stop shrinking real life and real circumstances for people. Stop making your life worse than theirs... stop one-upping people's horrible moments and just let them be for a bit. I know that this is an area that I can really work on and grow in and I hope that you are able to do the same. Let's help others see their reality through the lens of moments, rather than compared situations. Will you pray for me in this? I will for you too. -Melis
Have you ever had a day? Just a bad day and you think that you must be the only person in the world that has ever just had a bad day? We know this is not realistic and yet we sometimes need to sink into that for just a few minutes to get a grip on the reality of our lives and how we feel. I learned a very important lesson this summer at the Holocaust conference. They gave us guidelines to teach the Holocaust and one of them is not to minimize or compare the story of the Holocaust and it's reality by simulating it. I'm not sure if that makes sense... let me describe it to you... during the Holocaust 11 million people died, we can't really wrap our brains around that. (I tried to, it's useless.) This is just the number that we know of, that doesn't include those who were sick or wounded, it doesn't include the conditions in which they died or their hope or desire to survive. It's just a number. However, often (I'm so guilty of this) in order to make it relevant, we describe it by comparison. Really, what can you compare that to? I can take the symptoms of the Holocaust and compare it to, say, a genocide in Rwanda or Cambodia or Armenia but they are still not equivalent. They're all dramatic situations in which a group(s) of people was targeted but we cannot minimize the mass fatality of the Holocaust by talking about Rwanda. Just can't be done.
We do this to people all the time. Instead of walking with someone through a hardship, we are quick to say, "I know what you mean.... I've felt the same way...I dealt with the same situation...etc." Get my drift? However, we don't know what they mean, we haven't felt the same way, and we haven't dealt with the same situation. (Often, we say things so they'll stop talking to us about this-- do we really care about people? More a question to me than you.) On the surface, they do look the same, they do seem to feel the same or deal with situations the same way but varying circumstances define so much of how people look and deal with situations that we cannot possibly rank in comparison. Sometimes, we need to let people feel for a few minutes. Let them get the unrealistic ideas out and then let them process through realism. (This is not AT ALL a blog of excuses for people who constantly throw pity parties--different time, different place.) As they process the realism, jump in. How did you deal with a 'similar' situation? Note: the word similar does not imply the same... they're not. Rather than overlook their emotions for a few minutes, give them time to grasp what's really going on.
When we compare, we shrink real life for people. I mean, honestly, you're not going to walk up to a three year old boy learning to walk and when he falls over, yell in his face like a drill sergeant, "BE A MAN!" You're not (and if you do, those are completely different issues that I will, more than likely, not touch on in this blog EVER). Stop shrinking real life and real circumstances for people. Stop making your life worse than theirs... stop one-upping people's horrible moments and just let them be for a bit. I know that this is an area that I can really work on and grow in and I hope that you are able to do the same. Let's help others see their reality through the lens of moments, rather than compared situations. Will you pray for me in this? I will for you too. -Melis
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