This year....
January
- Packed up my life and moved to Denia, Spain for a semester abroad.
- First transatlantic flight, first time on another continent, first time in Europe, first time living with a family other than my own, first interim class, first immersion classroom experience. Lots of firsts. Too many all at once.
- Trip to Barcelona, Spain and the beginning of seven wonderful friendships.
February
· Began an independent study at a local school in Denia.
· Sem Pond jump! But in the infinitely warmer, non-frozen Mediterranean Sea.
· Purchased my first Spanish novel – Harry Potter y el Cáliz de Fuego. :)
· Ate pulpo (octopus) for the first time.
· Trip to Madrid, Segovia, and Toledo, Spain
March
· Trip to Grenada and Cordoba, Spain
· Trips to Paris, France, and Rome, Italy
· Fallas Celebration in Denia – basically, 10 days of fireworks, firecrackers, fire culminating in multi-story burning creations of wood and plaster
· Participated in my first photo shoot. Sort of. It was really just a bunch of us wandering around town while Alyssa snapped a billion photos.
April
· First Spring Break spent in a location other than Grandville, Michigan. Some people went to the UK, or Italy, or Paris….I went to the BEACH every day!
· Watched my very first sunrise. And over the Mediterranean Sea, no less.
· Started a blog. Sometimes I post silly things, sometimes I post serious things, but I always try to post things that are important. Things that I would want to read if I were you.
· Came to be okay with being in the lion’s den.
May
· Took – and PASSED – the Spanish Oral Proficiency Exam!!
· Passed all exams and classes and finished the academic portion of the semester abroad.
· Skinny-dipped in the Mediterranean Sea on the last night in Denia.
· “Welcome home.”
· Had a consultation with my ophthalmologist to determine if I was a candidate for LASIK vision correction surgery. I’m not.
· Memorial Day Weekend at the Conference Grounds. First time back after returning from Spain, and it was as fabulous as I was imagining it would be.
June
· The beginning of my fourth summer working at the Conference Grounds, kicked off by Special Needs Week!
· Air-conditioning installed in Amistad. Best thing ever.
· General shenanigans with roommates Jessica and Lindsey.
July
· My first (and only) success as a choreographer – Waka Waka (This Time for Africa), Middle School Week Lip Sync.
· Bizarre and scary events at the Grounds, difficult decisions to be made.
· Christmas in July party with the college staff. Bryant receives a toilet seat in the white elephant gift exchange.
August
· Computer screen broke. Bought new computer.
· Spain 2011 reunion! Even though only like, 8 people showed up, it was good to catch up and see everyone again.
· Saw the movie The Help. Best film of the year, in my opinion. It opened my eyes and changed my mind about a lot of things.
· Campo family reunion in Traverse City, Michigan. Drunk old people asking me WHO I’m doing instead of HOW I’m doing? Good lord.
September
· Moved into my first apartment (The Spanish House at Calvin College) the night before classes started. Funny story: I was in the process of moving stuff in and forgot my ID in my room on one of the trips, which meant I couldn’t get back into the building. I called one of my roommates (whom I had met, oh, 4 minutes earlier) and she picks up and says, “Uh, how did you get my number already??” “Well….when I friended you on Facebook…I saw your number listed and I put it in my phone as a precaution because I thought it might be a good idea…” Beginning of friendship with Jama Runkel.
· Beginning of fall semester and my tutoring job at Calvin’s Spanish Department
· Finally stopped fighting and denying and running away. I named my giants: Depression, anxiety, and obsessive-compulsive tendencies.
· ArtPrize 2011. Why have I not gone the other years?!
October
· Put myself on antidepressants.
· Celebrated my 22nd birthday by attending four classes, two review sessions, and a dinner with my family and grandparents.
· Began working at Burton Middle School with their after-school program promoting literacy and FUN.
· Family Fall Harvest Festival and general mayhem with Chelsey and Jessica.
November
· Learned how to roll my Rs. I can’t do it on command though, so don’t even ask.
· Pizza and breadsticks for Thanksgiving Dinner with Dad’s side – MUCH better than turkey.
· Continued to acclimate to my medication. Not an easy task.
· Developed an in-depth unit plan based on the Dirty War in Argentina. I’m really proud of it.
December
· After a billion papers, projects, and final exams….End of fall semester and FREEDOM.
· Moved back in at home after exam week.
· Refurnished, rearranged, and redecorated my room. Now it’s EXACTLY the way I want it.
· A week of Christmas and family members. And LOTS of food.
· New Year’s Eve spent with two cuties. They’re almost 3. :)
Saturday, December 31, 2011
Monday, December 26, 2011
It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year?
Oh, Christmas....I find you so very complicated.
For the past several years, I have not enjoyed Christmas (or most holidays, for that matter). In fact, I kind of dread it. Here's why: Most people are naturally excited and happy when it comes to Christmas. They go in for all the decoration, the snow, the lights, the food, the music, the people, everything. The Christmas spirit is just THERE, instinctively. I don't have any of that. The decorations make me sad, the snow makes me frustrated (though this is nothing new), the lights seem dim, the music is misleading, and while the food is pretty great, the rest of it is a facsimile of what it used to be.
Don't get me wrong: I am ALL about the core of Christmas. Jesus is my Savior. Christmas is the anniversary of his birth. It's a celebration of my Savior's birthday.
The problem is that society has made Christmas into a month-long happyfest; partially because we focus on things other than Jesus' birthday, partially because we feel the need to out-do ourselves every single year, and partially because we have the tendency to get caught up in things that ultimately don't matter. I wish it was okay for me to celebrate my birthday for an entire month. And if anyone deserves a month-long birthday celebration, it's Jesus. But by the time I get to Christmas Day, I am wiped out.
It is EXHAUSTING to pretend to be happy for twenty-five straight days. And yeah, I have to pretend I'm not depressed almost every day. But there's a difference - on those days, I just have to make it to neutral. During the month of Christmas, I have to push past neutral and pretend to be actively happy. If you've never had to do this before, I'll walk you through it: Think of all the people that you see during the month of Christmas (we really should just change 'December' to Christmasember). Now, chances are good that you see a good percentage of these people every year at Christmas. They are expecting you to be happy and joyful and full of Christmas spirit, just like every other year. This year, you find that that happiness/Christmas spirit just isn't there automatically. Shoot, son! Whatcha gonna do? You gotta convince all these people that nothing's changed...
Christmasember brings out happiness in most people, but it brings out sadness in me. Christmas brings so many reasons to be happy: family, friends, presents, vacation, parties, church, Jesus...but all of these things only serve to remind me of how I'm not intrinsically happy. And then I start to feel guilty - it's like, Why are you so unhappy? You should be happy! It's Christmas! Everyone else is happy, why aren't you? Be happy! BE HAPPY, YOU STUPID UNGRATEFUL GIRL!!
Thankfully, I gain a bit of wisdom with every year that passes. First of all, I am not the only person that this happens to. Just because everyone else SEEMS happy doesn't mean they are. A lot of people are carrying around baggage that they're working pretty hard to hide. They're not happy, but they're pretending to be because they don't know what else to do.
Second, it's okay to not be happy. No one can be happy all the time, especially during Christmasember. It's okay to admit that it's hard to be happy. I'm not a robot that can be programmed to Happy Mode, and maybe you aren't either.
Thirdly, knowing all of this, it's easier to understand and relate to other people that struggle with Christmasember. I've got a friend whose aunt died around Christmastime several years ago. She's reminded of it every year, and she doesn't like Christmas anymore. We kind of make a joke about it every year, but to me, it's one of the cornerstones of our friendship.
Maybe it's not so important how happy we are during the holidays. I think the more important thing is focusing on the birthday. Being thankful for Jesus' birth and remembering it and celebrating it on Christmas Day. We've pretty much buried the birthday in this day and age, but in the end, that's what it's all about. Birthday.
So yeah, I'm not happy all the time. And more and more, I'm becoming okay with it. But it was my Savior's birthday yesterday, and that will NEVER make me unhappy.
For the past several years, I have not enjoyed Christmas (or most holidays, for that matter). In fact, I kind of dread it. Here's why: Most people are naturally excited and happy when it comes to Christmas. They go in for all the decoration, the snow, the lights, the food, the music, the people, everything. The Christmas spirit is just THERE, instinctively. I don't have any of that. The decorations make me sad, the snow makes me frustrated (though this is nothing new), the lights seem dim, the music is misleading, and while the food is pretty great, the rest of it is a facsimile of what it used to be.
Don't get me wrong: I am ALL about the core of Christmas. Jesus is my Savior. Christmas is the anniversary of his birth. It's a celebration of my Savior's birthday.
The problem is that society has made Christmas into a month-long happyfest; partially because we focus on things other than Jesus' birthday, partially because we feel the need to out-do ourselves every single year, and partially because we have the tendency to get caught up in things that ultimately don't matter. I wish it was okay for me to celebrate my birthday for an entire month. And if anyone deserves a month-long birthday celebration, it's Jesus. But by the time I get to Christmas Day, I am wiped out.
It is EXHAUSTING to pretend to be happy for twenty-five straight days. And yeah, I have to pretend I'm not depressed almost every day. But there's a difference - on those days, I just have to make it to neutral. During the month of Christmas, I have to push past neutral and pretend to be actively happy. If you've never had to do this before, I'll walk you through it: Think of all the people that you see during the month of Christmas (we really should just change 'December' to Christmasember). Now, chances are good that you see a good percentage of these people every year at Christmas. They are expecting you to be happy and joyful and full of Christmas spirit, just like every other year. This year, you find that that happiness/Christmas spirit just isn't there automatically. Shoot, son! Whatcha gonna do? You gotta convince all these people that nothing's changed...
Christmasember brings out happiness in most people, but it brings out sadness in me. Christmas brings so many reasons to be happy: family, friends, presents, vacation, parties, church, Jesus...but all of these things only serve to remind me of how I'm not intrinsically happy. And then I start to feel guilty - it's like, Why are you so unhappy? You should be happy! It's Christmas! Everyone else is happy, why aren't you? Be happy! BE HAPPY, YOU STUPID UNGRATEFUL GIRL!!
Thankfully, I gain a bit of wisdom with every year that passes. First of all, I am not the only person that this happens to. Just because everyone else SEEMS happy doesn't mean they are. A lot of people are carrying around baggage that they're working pretty hard to hide. They're not happy, but they're pretending to be because they don't know what else to do.
Second, it's okay to not be happy. No one can be happy all the time, especially during Christmasember. It's okay to admit that it's hard to be happy. I'm not a robot that can be programmed to Happy Mode, and maybe you aren't either.
Thirdly, knowing all of this, it's easier to understand and relate to other people that struggle with Christmasember. I've got a friend whose aunt died around Christmastime several years ago. She's reminded of it every year, and she doesn't like Christmas anymore. We kind of make a joke about it every year, but to me, it's one of the cornerstones of our friendship.
Maybe it's not so important how happy we are during the holidays. I think the more important thing is focusing on the birthday. Being thankful for Jesus' birth and remembering it and celebrating it on Christmas Day. We've pretty much buried the birthday in this day and age, but in the end, that's what it's all about. Birthday.
So yeah, I'm not happy all the time. And more and more, I'm becoming okay with it. But it was my Savior's birthday yesterday, and that will NEVER make me unhappy.
Redecorating!!
Wow, you would think that once classes finished for the semester, I would have MORE time to write...
Well, let's see. I wrote a billion papers, took some exams, moved home, cleaned out my room, moved a weight machine out of my room, moved a dresser into my room, redecorated my room, updated the pictures on my wall, read several books, watched tv, watched movies, saw friends I hadn't seen in a while, went SHOPPING, entertained both sets of grandparents for dinner, hosted a poker night, celebrated Christmas...and maybe some other more insignificant things.
And because I am just so proud of the decorating and arranging and refurnishing I did in my room this vacation, I'm going to post some of the pictures I took with my brand new PINK camera. :)
Hi, welcome to my room.
Check this out. Homework on the laptop, and streaming Netflix on the second monitor!! Score.
Pictures...
BOOKS. I got rid of a TON of books. For the first time in many many years, All of my books fit on a shelf and don't have to be stacked in piles on the bottom shelf. However, a few of the shelves are stacked two deep...I just couldn't part with all of them. :)
One of my favorite verses. It kind of makes me think of how no matter where I live, no matter how far away I am from this bedroom, God's taking care of me and has a plan.
Wisdom and prayer wall. Prayer post-its are such a good idea, I don't know why it took me so long to think of it. A nice visual way to organize all my prayer requests.
Photos on top of my new dresser (technically, it's an OOOOLD dresser that used to belong to my grandma).
More pictures...
And my wall of affirmation. Whenever I need a little pick-me-up, I just read one of these. Wonderful encouragement from some wonderful people.
SUUUUUUUNNNNNN!!!!! I love the sun. If I could just have a direct line to the sun, I wouldn't need antidepressants. Maybe.
Well, let's see. I wrote a billion papers, took some exams, moved home, cleaned out my room, moved a weight machine out of my room, moved a dresser into my room, redecorated my room, updated the pictures on my wall, read several books, watched tv, watched movies, saw friends I hadn't seen in a while, went SHOPPING, entertained both sets of grandparents for dinner, hosted a poker night, celebrated Christmas...and maybe some other more insignificant things.
And because I am just so proud of the decorating and arranging and refurnishing I did in my room this vacation, I'm going to post some of the pictures I took with my brand new PINK camera. :)
Monday, December 5, 2011
Troubled Relationship
Some background:
I was in Education 307 today, pretending to be an 8th grader pretending to be in Language Arts class. The "teachers" (Elizabeth and Sarah) were covering different types of rhyme in song and poetry and at the end of the class, we had to try our own hand at writing a poem, either with rhyme or without it. The only requirements were that it had to be 6 lines long and about either falling in love or breaking up. The poem that follows is born out of the last several weeks I have endured.
"Troubled Relationship"
You make too many demands.
I feel like you've tied my hands.
I no longer recognize you.
I just can't take it anymore.
You've left my heart battered and sore.
Calvin College...we're through.
:)
I was in Education 307 today, pretending to be an 8th grader pretending to be in Language Arts class. The "teachers" (Elizabeth and Sarah) were covering different types of rhyme in song and poetry and at the end of the class, we had to try our own hand at writing a poem, either with rhyme or without it. The only requirements were that it had to be 6 lines long and about either falling in love or breaking up. The poem that follows is born out of the last several weeks I have endured.
"Troubled Relationship"
You make too many demands.
I feel like you've tied my hands.
I no longer recognize you.
I just can't take it anymore.
You've left my heart battered and sore.
Calvin College...we're through.
:)
Thursday, December 1, 2011
A Prayer for You, Kristi
I can't believe this is happening again. This can't be real. This CANNOT be real.
Girl, I am so sorry. I can't tell you that I know how you're feeling, because that would be a lie and not very helpful to you. Only people who have had cancer come back can truly feel the way you do right now. Cancer needs to go die.
I'm scared. You must be scared. I would be 500% surprised if you said that you weren't scared. But I'll tell you this - God knows what you need, when you need, and who you need. He knows how to take care of you and I am confident beyond a shadow of a doubt that He will carry you through all of this cancer mess. He'll do it. He WILL.
I'm gathering a crowd of people and we're going to storm the gates of Heaven with our prayers for you, okay? We're going to pray for your family, wisdom about what to do next, patience and endurance to deal with the frustrations, skill and wisdom for your doctors, comfort for the people that love you, healing for your body, relief from any sickness, support for you and your family, light for the dark times, peace for the scary times, understanding for the confusing times, rest for the exhausting times, and arms to hold you close during the times that just plain suck.
You got this. With God on your side, nothing will be impossible for you. Rest in God. Praying for you, always.
Love, Andrea
If you read this blog post, I ask that you pray for Kristi. She's 14, she's facing another difficult fight with cancer, but she's one of the bravest girls I know. Please join me in flooding the gates of Heaven with prayers for her and her family.
Girl, I am so sorry. I can't tell you that I know how you're feeling, because that would be a lie and not very helpful to you. Only people who have had cancer come back can truly feel the way you do right now. Cancer needs to go die.
I'm scared. You must be scared. I would be 500% surprised if you said that you weren't scared. But I'll tell you this - God knows what you need, when you need, and who you need. He knows how to take care of you and I am confident beyond a shadow of a doubt that He will carry you through all of this cancer mess. He'll do it. He WILL.
I'm gathering a crowd of people and we're going to storm the gates of Heaven with our prayers for you, okay? We're going to pray for your family, wisdom about what to do next, patience and endurance to deal with the frustrations, skill and wisdom for your doctors, comfort for the people that love you, healing for your body, relief from any sickness, support for you and your family, light for the dark times, peace for the scary times, understanding for the confusing times, rest for the exhausting times, and arms to hold you close during the times that just plain suck.
You got this. With God on your side, nothing will be impossible for you. Rest in God. Praying for you, always.
Love, Andrea
If you read this blog post, I ask that you pray for Kristi. She's 14, she's facing another difficult fight with cancer, but she's one of the bravest girls I know. Please join me in flooding the gates of Heaven with prayers for her and her family.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Calculating
I confess: I am a very analytical, logical, calculating person.
I try to calculate everything.
How long it will take me to travel to a destination based on method of transportation.
How to do a homework assignment in the most efficient way possible.
How much food and/or calories I can get away with eating in a given day.
How to express myself in another language with perfect grammar (challenging) and without offending anyone.
How much time I can waste on the weekends while still leaving enough time to finish homework.
How to get what I want with the smallest amount of imposition on others.
How to get what I want with the least social interaction possible (for example: trying to find out information on a company's website instead of taking 2 minutes to call an employee and ask my question).
How to make people happy.
How to make myself happy.
Some of things are okay to calculate. A few are even very necessary in my life. Others...not so much. I really need to work on not calculating on the one about avoiding social interaction. It frustrates my mom to no end when I drive to say, a video store to see if they have a movie I need instead of just calling the store and asking over the phone.
I'm learning little by little that people and relationships should not be calculated. Certain elements of people and relationships CAN be calculated, such as just how much button-pushing a person can endure before they lose it, or which type of flowers are your sweetheart's favorite, but we really need to leave the relationship as a whole alone.
Here's what I mean: I am someone who very much likes to keep things even and fair. Not necessarily in the sense of revenge and repaying wrongs, but in the sense that I can't stand feeling unequal in a relationship. I constantly worry that I make myself a burden to other people or that I rely too much on them. I make a big deal (to myself) out of making sure that I am supporting a friend just as much as he or she is supporting me. I hate feeling that the relationship weighs too heavily on my side (whether or not it ACTUALLY is that way). In short, I freak out about "repaying" people for kindness or care that they show to me because I have an intense fear of being seen as needy.
For this reason, I try to calculate my friendships. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it!
After a particularly bad night, I was texting back and forth with a close friend of mine about things that were on my mind. It was some pretty emotionally heavy stuff, and I began to worry that I was going too far and putting too much on this friend. I asked her point-blank if I was a burden to her, and she said something interesting to me. She said, "Because we are friends, your burdens are my burdens. But YOU are not a burden. We help each other. We're there for one another. Right now, it's your turn to lean on me. Somewhere down the line, it will be my turn to lean on you. Now stop your worrying and go to sleep."
I typed this response out on my computer and printed it so that I could tape it up on my wall because it's something that I need to constantly remind myself of. I need to just let things be and stop trying to figure them all out. I need to remember that relationships won't always be equal; that it's okay to let them lean one way or the other because LIFE leans one way or the other. I need to trust my friends. I need to trust MYSELF.
Conclusion: It's okay to calculate your bill before you reach the register. It's NOT okay to calculate your friends.
:)
I try to calculate everything.
How long it will take me to travel to a destination based on method of transportation.
How to do a homework assignment in the most efficient way possible.
How much food and/or calories I can get away with eating in a given day.
How to express myself in another language with perfect grammar (challenging) and without offending anyone.
How much time I can waste on the weekends while still leaving enough time to finish homework.
How to get what I want with the smallest amount of imposition on others.
How to get what I want with the least social interaction possible (for example: trying to find out information on a company's website instead of taking 2 minutes to call an employee and ask my question).
How to make people happy.
How to make myself happy.
Some of things are okay to calculate. A few are even very necessary in my life. Others...not so much. I really need to work on not calculating on the one about avoiding social interaction. It frustrates my mom to no end when I drive to say, a video store to see if they have a movie I need instead of just calling the store and asking over the phone.
I'm learning little by little that people and relationships should not be calculated. Certain elements of people and relationships CAN be calculated, such as just how much button-pushing a person can endure before they lose it, or which type of flowers are your sweetheart's favorite, but we really need to leave the relationship as a whole alone.
Here's what I mean: I am someone who very much likes to keep things even and fair. Not necessarily in the sense of revenge and repaying wrongs, but in the sense that I can't stand feeling unequal in a relationship. I constantly worry that I make myself a burden to other people or that I rely too much on them. I make a big deal (to myself) out of making sure that I am supporting a friend just as much as he or she is supporting me. I hate feeling that the relationship weighs too heavily on my side (whether or not it ACTUALLY is that way). In short, I freak out about "repaying" people for kindness or care that they show to me because I have an intense fear of being seen as needy.
For this reason, I try to calculate my friendships. I know I shouldn't, but I can't help it!
After a particularly bad night, I was texting back and forth with a close friend of mine about things that were on my mind. It was some pretty emotionally heavy stuff, and I began to worry that I was going too far and putting too much on this friend. I asked her point-blank if I was a burden to her, and she said something interesting to me. She said, "Because we are friends, your burdens are my burdens. But YOU are not a burden. We help each other. We're there for one another. Right now, it's your turn to lean on me. Somewhere down the line, it will be my turn to lean on you. Now stop your worrying and go to sleep."
I typed this response out on my computer and printed it so that I could tape it up on my wall because it's something that I need to constantly remind myself of. I need to just let things be and stop trying to figure them all out. I need to remember that relationships won't always be equal; that it's okay to let them lean one way or the other because LIFE leans one way or the other. I need to trust my friends. I need to trust MYSELF.
Conclusion: It's okay to calculate your bill before you reach the register. It's NOT okay to calculate your friends.
:)
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Top 8: Things I Want To Do When I Get To Heaven
8. Meet my great-grandparents from both sides.
7. Walk along the endless shore with no shoes on with a close friend and just talk and talk and talk...
6. See my grandpa with two functioning human legs.
5. Hear all the forms of worship intertwining simultaneously with one another (think the chorus of Prince of Peace/You Are Holy, but times like a billion)
4. Meet the people that have inspired me if I didn't get to meet them while I was on earth.
3. Reunite with all the loved ones that got here before I did.
2. Plan Welcome Home parties for the loved ones that haven't arrived yet.
1. Hug Jesus.
7. Walk along the endless shore with no shoes on with a close friend and just talk and talk and talk...
6. See my grandpa with two functioning human legs.
5. Hear all the forms of worship intertwining simultaneously with one another (think the chorus of Prince of Peace/You Are Holy, but times like a billion)
4. Meet the people that have inspired me if I didn't get to meet them while I was on earth.
3. Reunite with all the loved ones that got here before I did.
2. Plan Welcome Home parties for the loved ones that haven't arrived yet.
1. Hug Jesus.
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Psalm 13
I have found this psalm particularly cathartic and meaningful today.
How long will you hide your face from me?
2 How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
3 Look on me and answer, LORD my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
4 and my enemy will say, “I have overcome her,”
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
5 But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
6 I will sing the LORD’s praise,
for he has been good to me.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Jesus Says
The Enemy says, "You are weak."
Jesus says, "My power is demonstrated perfectly when you're weak." (2 Corinthians 12:9)
The Enemy says, "You'll always be sad."
Jesus says, "One day, you will be happy again. I'm making all things new." (Revelation 21:4)
The Enemy says, "You are worthless."
Jesus says, "I will save you from oppression and violence, for you are precious to me." (Psalm 72:14)
The Enemy says, "You don't belong."
Jesus says, "I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. You are mine." (Psalm 43:1)
The Enemy says, "You are afraid."
Jesus says, "Don't be afraid. I'm holding your hand and I'll never let go." (Psalm 41:13)
The Enemy says, "You can't do anything."
Jesus says, "You can do all things because I will give you the strength to do them. (Philippians 4:13)
The Enemy says, "Give up."
Jesus says, "Keep going. There is a crown waiting for you." (James 1:12)
The Enemy says, "You are all alone."
Jesus says, "I am with you always. You'll never be alone." (Matthew 28:20, Deuteronomy 31:8)
The Enemy says, "God sure seems far away today."
Jesus says, "Be still. Remember that I am your God and I'm not going anywhere." (Psalm 46:10)
The Enemy says, "Nothing you do is good enough."
Jesus says, "Focus only on working for me, not them. I am well pleased with you." (Colossians 3:23-24)
The Enemy says, "God can't understand your pain."
Jesus says, "I have cried for loved ones, I have been overwhelmed, and I have felt deep sadness in my very soul. I know how you feel." (John 11:35, Matthew 26:38)
The Enemy says, "You should be afraid of death."
Jesus says, "I destroyed death. There's nothing to be afraid of because I am stronger than death."
The Enemy says, "You are tired and weary."
Jesus says, "Put your hope in me. I'll give you new strength and you will fly with me."
The Enemy says, "That anxiety's gonna kill you."
Jesus says, "Heap all your anxiety on me. I care about you and I will give you rest." (1 Peter 5:7, Matthew 11:29)
The Enemy says, "You are lost. You don't know where you're going."
Jesus says, "I'm right behind you. This is the way. Keep going." (Isaiah 30:21)
The Enemy says, "There's nothing left after this."
Jesus says, "I want you to be with me where I am. I've prepared a place for you to stay for eternity." (John 17:24, John 14:3)
No matter who your enemy is, don't listen to them. Don't believe their lies. God's promises cover each and every one of the lies.
Jesus says, "My power is demonstrated perfectly when you're weak." (2 Corinthians 12:9)
The Enemy says, "You'll always be sad."
Jesus says, "One day, you will be happy again. I'm making all things new." (Revelation 21:4)
The Enemy says, "You are worthless."
Jesus says, "I will save you from oppression and violence, for you are precious to me." (Psalm 72:14)
The Enemy says, "You don't belong."
Jesus says, "I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. You are mine." (Psalm 43:1)
The Enemy says, "You are afraid."
Jesus says, "Don't be afraid. I'm holding your hand and I'll never let go." (Psalm 41:13)
The Enemy says, "You can't do anything."
Jesus says, "You can do all things because I will give you the strength to do them. (Philippians 4:13)
The Enemy says, "Give up."
Jesus says, "Keep going. There is a crown waiting for you." (James 1:12)
The Enemy says, "You are all alone."
Jesus says, "I am with you always. You'll never be alone." (Matthew 28:20, Deuteronomy 31:8)
The Enemy says, "God sure seems far away today."
Jesus says, "Be still. Remember that I am your God and I'm not going anywhere." (Psalm 46:10)
The Enemy says, "Nothing you do is good enough."
Jesus says, "Focus only on working for me, not them. I am well pleased with you." (Colossians 3:23-24)
The Enemy says, "God can't understand your pain."
Jesus says, "I have cried for loved ones, I have been overwhelmed, and I have felt deep sadness in my very soul. I know how you feel." (John 11:35, Matthew 26:38)
The Enemy says, "You should be afraid of death."
Jesus says, "I destroyed death. There's nothing to be afraid of because I am stronger than death."
The Enemy says, "You are tired and weary."
Jesus says, "Put your hope in me. I'll give you new strength and you will fly with me."
The Enemy says, "That anxiety's gonna kill you."
Jesus says, "Heap all your anxiety on me. I care about you and I will give you rest." (1 Peter 5:7, Matthew 11:29)
The Enemy says, "You are lost. You don't know where you're going."
Jesus says, "I'm right behind you. This is the way. Keep going." (Isaiah 30:21)
The Enemy says, "There's nothing left after this."
Jesus says, "I want you to be with me where I am. I've prepared a place for you to stay for eternity." (John 17:24, John 14:3)
No matter who your enemy is, don't listen to them. Don't believe their lies. God's promises cover each and every one of the lies.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Facing the Giant
If David could defeat his giant with one smooth stone...
So can I.
Break the silence. Break the stigma.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Valió la Pena, Parte IV: An Indictment of All the People Who Ever Told You That You Couldn't Do Something
Wow, it's been quite awhile since I made a post to this blog. In that time, I have...
- had a birthday. woo hoo 22!
- made several new friends in this apartment and in classes.
- gotten hooked on several new television shows instead of doing homework
- started taking Cymbalta. I like to think of each pill as a stone in my sling against my giant.
- begun a education class "lab" at Burton Middle School.
So let's talk some more about this "lab." We are supposed to work with the students in the after-school program for 2 hours and create activities that promote literacy. The 30 students in the two EDUC 307 classes are spread out over the five days of the school week between Burton MS and Martin Luther King School. So far, at the end of a week and a half in our schools, the results range from "phenomenal success" to "Is that a plane I see crashing and burning on the ground?"
My partner Liz and I have found ourselves closer to the "phenomenal success" side of the spectrum. The first week was a bit chaotic because we didn't really know what was expected of us in terms of activities, perceived authority, and the fact that we were split up in different classes. Liz actually managed to get some stuff done with her students, but my students were pretty set on playing Guesstures for most of the class time. Nevertheless, I was able to learn a few of their names, hear about what they like to do, and get wild and crazy with the charades.
This week, things went MUCH more smoothly. Liz and I planned activities that would be engaging and interesting for the 6th graders that I worked with last week with the understanding that we would both stay in the 6th grade class. After two hours of word searches, math homework, Red Light Green Light, a game where each student had to ask questions and guess the name of the animal that was written on a card taped to his or her back, a dramatic/hysterical reading and acting out of The Frog Prince, and a game of Princess (formerly known as Hangman) where the princess neither dies nor gets injured, we decided that the afternoon was a success as far as literacy goes.
Miss Pat, the coordinator for the 6th graders, told us that she was very impressed with the organization, effort, and enthusiasm that the Calvin students have been bringing to the after-school program. For those that aren't familiar with Grand Rapids (or at least, its education system), Burton MS is what would be considered an inner-city school. Furthermore, the ethnic makeup of each class is predominantly African-American and Hispanic, which is a reflection of the population of that area of the city. There is not a single Caucasian student in our 6th grade after-school class. Families of Burton MS are on the lower end of the financial spectrum, and many are living below the poverty level.
An interesting factor that I hadn't given much thought to when we had "orientation" for our lab was the fact that the Burton MS area has a high Spanish-speaking population. And I'm a Spanish MAJOR! I didn't even consider what that would mean or how that would be manifested in a classroom. This week, when Liz and I were introducing ourselves, I mentioned that I was going to college to become a Spanish teacher. One of the other coordinators asked if I spoke Spanish, and I replied with
“Sí, hablo español. Viví en España el semestre pasado por cuatro meses y medio con una familia española, así que fue una experiencia de inmersión. Aprendí la mayoría de mi español allí, especialmente la conversación. Si ustedes creen que pueden hablar en español para evitar que los maestros no les entiendan y se confundan, no olviden que yo también hablo español.” (Yes, I speak Spanish. I lived in Spain last semester for 4 and a half months with a Spanish family, so it was kind of an immersion experience. I learned the majority of my Spanish there, especially conversation. If you guys think that you can speak in Spanish so that your teachers can't understand you and get confused, don't forget that I speak Spanish too.)
- had a birthday. woo hoo 22!
- made several new friends in this apartment and in classes.
- gotten hooked on several new television shows instead of doing homework
- started taking Cymbalta. I like to think of each pill as a stone in my sling against my giant.
- begun a education class "lab" at Burton Middle School.
So let's talk some more about this "lab." We are supposed to work with the students in the after-school program for 2 hours and create activities that promote literacy. The 30 students in the two EDUC 307 classes are spread out over the five days of the school week between Burton MS and Martin Luther King School. So far, at the end of a week and a half in our schools, the results range from "phenomenal success" to "Is that a plane I see crashing and burning on the ground?"
My partner Liz and I have found ourselves closer to the "phenomenal success" side of the spectrum. The first week was a bit chaotic because we didn't really know what was expected of us in terms of activities, perceived authority, and the fact that we were split up in different classes. Liz actually managed to get some stuff done with her students, but my students were pretty set on playing Guesstures for most of the class time. Nevertheless, I was able to learn a few of their names, hear about what they like to do, and get wild and crazy with the charades.
This week, things went MUCH more smoothly. Liz and I planned activities that would be engaging and interesting for the 6th graders that I worked with last week with the understanding that we would both stay in the 6th grade class. After two hours of word searches, math homework, Red Light Green Light, a game where each student had to ask questions and guess the name of the animal that was written on a card taped to his or her back, a dramatic/hysterical reading and acting out of The Frog Prince, and a game of Princess (formerly known as Hangman) where the princess neither dies nor gets injured, we decided that the afternoon was a success as far as literacy goes.
Miss Pat, the coordinator for the 6th graders, told us that she was very impressed with the organization, effort, and enthusiasm that the Calvin students have been bringing to the after-school program. For those that aren't familiar with Grand Rapids (or at least, its education system), Burton MS is what would be considered an inner-city school. Furthermore, the ethnic makeup of each class is predominantly African-American and Hispanic, which is a reflection of the population of that area of the city. There is not a single Caucasian student in our 6th grade after-school class. Families of Burton MS are on the lower end of the financial spectrum, and many are living below the poverty level.
An interesting factor that I hadn't given much thought to when we had "orientation" for our lab was the fact that the Burton MS area has a high Spanish-speaking population. And I'm a Spanish MAJOR! I didn't even consider what that would mean or how that would be manifested in a classroom. This week, when Liz and I were introducing ourselves, I mentioned that I was going to college to become a Spanish teacher. One of the other coordinators asked if I spoke Spanish, and I replied with
“Sí, hablo español. Viví en España el semestre pasado por cuatro meses y medio con una familia española, así que fue una experiencia de inmersión. Aprendí la mayoría de mi español allí, especialmente la conversación. Si ustedes creen que pueden hablar en español para evitar que los maestros no les entiendan y se confundan, no olviden que yo también hablo español.” (Yes, I speak Spanish. I lived in Spain last semester for 4 and a half months with a Spanish family, so it was kind of an immersion experience. I learned the majority of my Spanish there, especially conversation. If you guys think that you can speak in Spanish so that your teachers can't understand you and get confused, don't forget that I speak Spanish too.)
After that, there was sort of a power shift. I have a feeling that with some of the teachers, the students have a slice of power when it comes to language. They can speak a language that their teachers and other students don't understand, which means that they have a small piece of control in a situation where they typically wouldn't have control. Now that they know that I speak Spanish, I'm hoping that they will be discouraged from misbehaving. I already got a chance to test out this theory when one of the boys turned to his neighbor and told him he thought that our activity was dumb. I asked him, in Spanish, why he thought the activity was dumb, and he backed down from accusation.
I'm also hoping that my Spanish can become a bridge to the students that we otherwise may not have been able to reach. While the students were working on a word search, I sat down with a few of the girls and started talking to them in Spanish. I asked if they'd be interested in doing bilingual activities if we could work in teams of English and Spanish speakers. Even though Burton MS is a bilingual school (signs and information are dispensed in both languages), the curriculum is not necessarily taught in both languages. They said they'd LOVE that because they don't get a chance to speak Spanish at school in class. One of the girls told me that she's not very good at language arts in English, which makes me wonder if language arts in Spanish would better showcase her strengths. I have to work toward promoting literacy in the Spanish content area anyway, so I think this would be a great way to do that. Our overall goal is to show the students that they each have a subject are that they are skilled in, and we just have to find that subject.
Sadly, most of our students are not expected to go to college, and even in 6th grade, they're aware of that fact. I was working with one of the boys on his math homework and I had to confess to him that I didn't know how to answer one of the questions. He said, "Come on, don't you have math class in college?" And I replied by saying that I hadn't taken any math since high school because I didn't need to take math in college for my program. He was astounded. He said he didn't like math, and I said, "well hopefully when you get to college, you won't have to take math either. You can choose a major that doesn't have ANYTHING to do with math!" and he just looked at me.
--"When I get to college?"
"Yeah, after high school."
--"What do you mean? I don't think I'm going to college."
"Well, why not?"
--"Because it's too expensive."
"Well, lots of colleges offer scholarships, which is free money that you can get based on your grades from high school, or for practicing a certain skill, or even for having a Hispanic background, like you!"
--"I still don't think I can go. I'll have to work and make money, like my parents. They work a lot. That's why I have to be here instead of at home after school."
"Did you know that lots of college offer jobs to students that are right nearby? You can take classes and work like 10 hours a week too. That's what I do. You can also take loans out, where you pay the money back later after you graduate and get a job. Got any more reasons to not go to college?"
--". . . . . . . . . . . I'm not smart enough. No one from my family has ever gone to college."
"Who told you you weren't smart enough?"
--"My dad."
"Josue, do you WANT to go to college? If there was nothing stopping you, would you go?"
--"Well, yeah. I don't want to be a car mechanic."
"Then there's nothing stopping you. You are smart. You can get scholarships. You can get a part-time job. You can get help with school when you need it. You can do anything you decide you want to do. You know why? Because I believe in you."
--"Really?"
"Really. Now let's ask Jesse if he understands this math problem and maybe he can help us."
Even if these kids forget that Liz and I came and played games with them and acted like animals and made general fools of ourselves, I hope that they will remember that two people believed in them and told them that they could do anything.
To me, that is what teaching is all about.
Sadly, most of our students are not expected to go to college, and even in 6th grade, they're aware of that fact. I was working with one of the boys on his math homework and I had to confess to him that I didn't know how to answer one of the questions. He said, "Come on, don't you have math class in college?" And I replied by saying that I hadn't taken any math since high school because I didn't need to take math in college for my program. He was astounded. He said he didn't like math, and I said, "well hopefully when you get to college, you won't have to take math either. You can choose a major that doesn't have ANYTHING to do with math!" and he just looked at me.
--"When I get to college?"
"Yeah, after high school."
--"What do you mean? I don't think I'm going to college."
"Well, why not?"
--"Because it's too expensive."
"Well, lots of colleges offer scholarships, which is free money that you can get based on your grades from high school, or for practicing a certain skill, or even for having a Hispanic background, like you!"
--"I still don't think I can go. I'll have to work and make money, like my parents. They work a lot. That's why I have to be here instead of at home after school."
"Did you know that lots of college offer jobs to students that are right nearby? You can take classes and work like 10 hours a week too. That's what I do. You can also take loans out, where you pay the money back later after you graduate and get a job. Got any more reasons to not go to college?"
--". . . . . . . . . . . I'm not smart enough. No one from my family has ever gone to college."
"Who told you you weren't smart enough?"
--"My dad."
"Josue, do you WANT to go to college? If there was nothing stopping you, would you go?"
--"Well, yeah. I don't want to be a car mechanic."
"Then there's nothing stopping you. You are smart. You can get scholarships. You can get a part-time job. You can get help with school when you need it. You can do anything you decide you want to do. You know why? Because I believe in you."
--"Really?"
"Really. Now let's ask Jesse if he understands this math problem and maybe he can help us."
Even if these kids forget that Liz and I came and played games with them and acted like animals and made general fools of ourselves, I hope that they will remember that two people believed in them and told them that they could do anything.
To me, that is what teaching is all about.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
This Battle Doesn't Belong to Me Anymore
I don't usually go to LOFT, which is Calvin's Sunday night service. Tonight, I'm very glad I did.
The theme for tonight was 'David and Goliath.' We read through the story, complete with Pastor Mary's hilarious embellishments, and after that was done, we got down to business: she asked us, point-blank, what our giants are. What are the giants that we are afraid to admit to anyone?
Struggling in school?
Fear?
Feeling out of place?
Eating disorder?
Pornography?
Self-doubt?
Self-injury?
Anxiety?
The list goes on. Pastor Mary looked us in the eyes and said "This giant is not yours to face. This battle doesn't belong to you. David trusted God to deliver him from Goliath, and he wants you to trust God to take care of your giant too. You can trust Him. He can do anything. ANYTHING. Nothing that you are facing is too big for him to destroy."
She then invited students to share the giants that they face every day and to claim the power that God has in store for us. One after another, people shared stories of fear, anxiety, depression, eating disorders, identity crises, loneliness, out-of-place-ness, and other things. These brave students publicly (and very, very bravely) shared their giants with us and claimed God's protection, strength, and healing. I was sitting there in awe of their bravery and I knew I would never have the courage to do that in front of all my peers.
But as the service came to a close, and the time had passed for me to share, I thought, why can't I have that courage? I just need to ask, right? I don't need to be afraid. And even if I am afraid, I don't have to let it consume me. I can stand up and be strong. With God's help.
So here goes. I'm going to tell you the story of my giant.
I've been fighting depression since I started college. One thousand one hundred and eight days of feeling worthless, heavy-laden, and afraid. Not every single day was a bad day, but having several good days in a row was a very rare occurrence. My outlook was bleak. It was hard to just get out of bed every day. It is STILL hard to get out of bed every day. God picked me up and set me on my feet every morning, but it was hard to remember that and be thankful.
I was incredibly lonely throughout my time at GRCC. I was living at home, almost all of my friends were living the high life away at college, and I was in the same place I was back in high school. Just without friends and with little social interaction outside of my family. I began to cling to the moments of going out for coffee, visiting friends' dorms, and seeing them for just a few minutes every week. I clung to them with everything I had because I was drowning in loneliness.
When I transferred to Calvin, I hoped that the intentionality of creating community would pull me out of my loneliness. I was able to see my friends from high school on a more regular basis, but they had moved on and made new friends, as they rightly should have. I tried to assimilate myself into their new groups, but I've never been very good at that, and I always had a voice in my head saying You're an outsider. You're never going to fit in with these people. Stop trying.
My first semester of living on campus (fall semester, junior year) did not go as planned. I knew that where I was living was not going to be the same as the dorm experience is for many students. I was hoping to meet some new people, have people to hang out with, and maybe make some friends. I had no roommate, and therefore spent a LOT of time alone. At this point, all the people my age had moved off campus as I was moving on. They were busy with their own lives, I was busy with mine, and our schedules always slid past each other. For this reason, I was hoping to make some new friends from my building.
I met a total of 6 people that semester who lived in my building. 6. 2 were RAs. 2 of them were the guys across the hall who constantly played their music too loud with their doors wide open. The other two were girls that I got along with pretty well, but both graduated that semester and I haven't seen them since. I constantly told myself that I should be more sociable and more outgoing, but I didn't know how. That voice was telling me Who would want to be your friend? What does anyone see in you? How did you have friends in the first place? People are too busy for you because they don't want to spend their time on you.
You can imagine my enthusiasm to spend a semester in Spain, where I knew 2 people in the group of students and where everything very suddenly and very harshly became an unknown. It was the longest 18 weeks of my life. I experienced my very worst fights with depression while I was there, and it's only by the grace of God that I survived them and emerged, a little worse for wear. I thank God for the help He sent me along the way, in the form of my classmates, and I've already written a tribute to them on this blog (search on the right hand side under May for 'Living with Lions' for more about this topic). I would have given in to the temptation to end it (in more ways than one) had it not been for them. Dark times. But God's light shined brighter, even when I had trouble seeing it. There was one person in particular who held her light out to me day after day, and I don't thank her enough for it. I thank my God every time I remember her and I'll be forever grateful that God crossed our paths in Spain and continues to cross them now.
Summers were the blazing light in my school year darkness. I have spent each of the last 4 working at the Conference Grounds and it has blessed my life beyond description. I have found a second family there and friends that have walked beside me through this fight. It really says something about a summer job when you long to see your co-workers during the school year. The Conference Grounds is synonymous with community. The staff is a family, and the campers get to become a part of that family. I'm so thankful for them. Without this job, there would be no break from my despair. This is not to say that I never felt depression while at the Conference Grounds. Far from it. But I knew there was always someone who would be there for me, holding out their light to me, ready to walk beside me for as long as I needed them to.
That brings us to this moment, two weeks into my senior year of college. 1,108 days of fighting this beast called depression. Some days I won. I overcame it temporarily. Most days, I was defeated, but held on long enough to go to bed and hope for victory the next day. The beast has been gaining strength over the last several days, and I'm not sure why, but today was one of the worst days. Almost on the same scale as the days in Spain. But after experiencing the power that the others claimed for their lives at LOFT tonight, I want to claim it too.
I will not let the beast destroy me.
I will not give in because of fear.
I will not hide from it.
I will claim God's power and strength.
I will not let anyone look down on me because of the things I have shared.
I will not listen to the voice anymore. In fact, voice, you're banished. Get outta here.
I will try to live with courage every day.
I will be brave.
I will give this battle to God.
I will wait on Him.
I will seek rest.
If you've been able to read all of this, it means I clicked "publish" instead of "discard." Right now, even as I type, I'm having second thoughts.
But the giant ahead of me is NOTHING compared to the God behind me.
Deep breath. Go.
The theme for tonight was 'David and Goliath.' We read through the story, complete with Pastor Mary's hilarious embellishments, and after that was done, we got down to business: she asked us, point-blank, what our giants are. What are the giants that we are afraid to admit to anyone?
Struggling in school?
Fear?
Feeling out of place?
Eating disorder?
Pornography?
Self-doubt?
Self-injury?
Anxiety?
The list goes on. Pastor Mary looked us in the eyes and said "This giant is not yours to face. This battle doesn't belong to you. David trusted God to deliver him from Goliath, and he wants you to trust God to take care of your giant too. You can trust Him. He can do anything. ANYTHING. Nothing that you are facing is too big for him to destroy."
She then invited students to share the giants that they face every day and to claim the power that God has in store for us. One after another, people shared stories of fear, anxiety, depression, eating disorders, identity crises, loneliness, out-of-place-ness, and other things. These brave students publicly (and very, very bravely) shared their giants with us and claimed God's protection, strength, and healing. I was sitting there in awe of their bravery and I knew I would never have the courage to do that in front of all my peers.
But as the service came to a close, and the time had passed for me to share, I thought, why can't I have that courage? I just need to ask, right? I don't need to be afraid. And even if I am afraid, I don't have to let it consume me. I can stand up and be strong. With God's help.
So here goes. I'm going to tell you the story of my giant.
I've been fighting depression since I started college. One thousand one hundred and eight days of feeling worthless, heavy-laden, and afraid. Not every single day was a bad day, but having several good days in a row was a very rare occurrence. My outlook was bleak. It was hard to just get out of bed every day. It is STILL hard to get out of bed every day. God picked me up and set me on my feet every morning, but it was hard to remember that and be thankful.
I was incredibly lonely throughout my time at GRCC. I was living at home, almost all of my friends were living the high life away at college, and I was in the same place I was back in high school. Just without friends and with little social interaction outside of my family. I began to cling to the moments of going out for coffee, visiting friends' dorms, and seeing them for just a few minutes every week. I clung to them with everything I had because I was drowning in loneliness.
When I transferred to Calvin, I hoped that the intentionality of creating community would pull me out of my loneliness. I was able to see my friends from high school on a more regular basis, but they had moved on and made new friends, as they rightly should have. I tried to assimilate myself into their new groups, but I've never been very good at that, and I always had a voice in my head saying You're an outsider. You're never going to fit in with these people. Stop trying.
My first semester of living on campus (fall semester, junior year) did not go as planned. I knew that where I was living was not going to be the same as the dorm experience is for many students. I was hoping to meet some new people, have people to hang out with, and maybe make some friends. I had no roommate, and therefore spent a LOT of time alone. At this point, all the people my age had moved off campus as I was moving on. They were busy with their own lives, I was busy with mine, and our schedules always slid past each other. For this reason, I was hoping to make some new friends from my building.
I met a total of 6 people that semester who lived in my building. 6. 2 were RAs. 2 of them were the guys across the hall who constantly played their music too loud with their doors wide open. The other two were girls that I got along with pretty well, but both graduated that semester and I haven't seen them since. I constantly told myself that I should be more sociable and more outgoing, but I didn't know how. That voice was telling me Who would want to be your friend? What does anyone see in you? How did you have friends in the first place? People are too busy for you because they don't want to spend their time on you.
You can imagine my enthusiasm to spend a semester in Spain, where I knew 2 people in the group of students and where everything very suddenly and very harshly became an unknown. It was the longest 18 weeks of my life. I experienced my very worst fights with depression while I was there, and it's only by the grace of God that I survived them and emerged, a little worse for wear. I thank God for the help He sent me along the way, in the form of my classmates, and I've already written a tribute to them on this blog (search on the right hand side under May for 'Living with Lions' for more about this topic). I would have given in to the temptation to end it (in more ways than one) had it not been for them. Dark times. But God's light shined brighter, even when I had trouble seeing it. There was one person in particular who held her light out to me day after day, and I don't thank her enough for it. I thank my God every time I remember her and I'll be forever grateful that God crossed our paths in Spain and continues to cross them now.
Summers were the blazing light in my school year darkness. I have spent each of the last 4 working at the Conference Grounds and it has blessed my life beyond description. I have found a second family there and friends that have walked beside me through this fight. It really says something about a summer job when you long to see your co-workers during the school year. The Conference Grounds is synonymous with community. The staff is a family, and the campers get to become a part of that family. I'm so thankful for them. Without this job, there would be no break from my despair. This is not to say that I never felt depression while at the Conference Grounds. Far from it. But I knew there was always someone who would be there for me, holding out their light to me, ready to walk beside me for as long as I needed them to.
That brings us to this moment, two weeks into my senior year of college. 1,108 days of fighting this beast called depression. Some days I won. I overcame it temporarily. Most days, I was defeated, but held on long enough to go to bed and hope for victory the next day. The beast has been gaining strength over the last several days, and I'm not sure why, but today was one of the worst days. Almost on the same scale as the days in Spain. But after experiencing the power that the others claimed for their lives at LOFT tonight, I want to claim it too.
I will not let the beast destroy me.
I will not give in because of fear.
I will not hide from it.
I will claim God's power and strength.
I will not let anyone look down on me because of the things I have shared.
I will not listen to the voice anymore. In fact, voice, you're banished. Get outta here.
I will try to live with courage every day.
I will be brave.
I will give this battle to God.
I will wait on Him.
I will seek rest.
If you've been able to read all of this, it means I clicked "publish" instead of "discard." Right now, even as I type, I'm having second thoughts.
But the giant ahead of me is NOTHING compared to the God behind me.
Deep breath. Go.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Where Do YOU Sit?
I came across this cute little interactive illustration today that explains what your choice of seating in a classroom says about your personality and/or learning style. Maybe "came across" is too loose of a term. More like...I searched the question "What your seating choice in class says about your personality" and then clicked on the most promising link. What, you might ask, prompted me to do this? Who even thinks about these things?!
Once I realized that I sit in more or less the same area in every single class, I began to wonder if this says something about me. I ALWAYS sit in the back row, corner seat if I get lucky. If I'm not early to class and the back row is taken, I bolt for a seat on the side. If no back row or side seats are available, I have a mini panic attack. For this reason, I like to arrive 10 minutes (ish) early so that I can get a seat I'm comfortable with.
Why is this so important? Well, I don't like thinking that people are looking at me, which eliminates the front row and the middle seats. I don't like being surrounded by people, which definitely eliminates the middle seats. I don't even particularly like being in the middle of the back row. Give me a corner or a side and I'm a very happy student.
It turns out that there is a bit of psychology to this! Click on this link to see what I'm talking about. The description of my side seat fits me almost perfectly, I think (except for the 'best note-taker in the class part, haha).
The Reserved Learner: "Sitting on the side gives you a feeling of privacy, and you like it like that. In class, you are probably quiet and reserved but that doesn't mean that you're not into learning. You typically collect your information from the contributions of others, even though you would have said the same thing had you raised your hand. Your preference is observation, rather than participation and you're probably one of the best note-takers in the class."
All throughout college, whenever we didn't have to have assigned seating charts, I chose the same location in which to sit. Without fail. Although, now that I reflect on it more, there is one glaring exception: Spain. Last semester, we had (almost) every class in the same classroom. We became very comfortable with it, knew which seats were closest to the outlets, which had best wi-fi, which tables didn't squeak as much as the others, etc. Once we got past Interim and got into the actual semester-long classes, I realized that I was much more comfortable with moving around in my seating choice. I'm not sure if it had anything to do with the fact that the seating consisted of long tables with chairs instead of single seater desks, but I know that familiarity with my classmates certainly played a huge role in my willingness to break out of my habitual seating preference. During a semester of very uncomfortable situations, finding a seat in class turned out to not be one of them, for a change.
Hopefully you found this marginally interesting. If not, I apologize for wasting your time. This is just what happened to be on my mind tonight. :)
Once I realized that I sit in more or less the same area in every single class, I began to wonder if this says something about me. I ALWAYS sit in the back row, corner seat if I get lucky. If I'm not early to class and the back row is taken, I bolt for a seat on the side. If no back row or side seats are available, I have a mini panic attack. For this reason, I like to arrive 10 minutes (ish) early so that I can get a seat I'm comfortable with.
Why is this so important? Well, I don't like thinking that people are looking at me, which eliminates the front row and the middle seats. I don't like being surrounded by people, which definitely eliminates the middle seats. I don't even particularly like being in the middle of the back row. Give me a corner or a side and I'm a very happy student.
It turns out that there is a bit of psychology to this! Click on this link to see what I'm talking about. The description of my side seat fits me almost perfectly, I think (except for the 'best note-taker in the class part, haha).
The Reserved Learner: "Sitting on the side gives you a feeling of privacy, and you like it like that. In class, you are probably quiet and reserved but that doesn't mean that you're not into learning. You typically collect your information from the contributions of others, even though you would have said the same thing had you raised your hand. Your preference is observation, rather than participation and you're probably one of the best note-takers in the class."
All throughout college, whenever we didn't have to have assigned seating charts, I chose the same location in which to sit. Without fail. Although, now that I reflect on it more, there is one glaring exception: Spain. Last semester, we had (almost) every class in the same classroom. We became very comfortable with it, knew which seats were closest to the outlets, which had best wi-fi, which tables didn't squeak as much as the others, etc. Once we got past Interim and got into the actual semester-long classes, I realized that I was much more comfortable with moving around in my seating choice. I'm not sure if it had anything to do with the fact that the seating consisted of long tables with chairs instead of single seater desks, but I know that familiarity with my classmates certainly played a huge role in my willingness to break out of my habitual seating preference. During a semester of very uncomfortable situations, finding a seat in class turned out to not be one of them, for a change.
Hopefully you found this marginally interesting. If not, I apologize for wasting your time. This is just what happened to be on my mind tonight. :)
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Moved In and Moving Right Along
Well, I'm all moved into La Casa de Espanol! (fancy official term for Kappa #3 in the Knollcrest East apartments at Calvin). I left the Grounds at 9:30 on Monday night, arrived at Calvin around 10:15, and proceeded to move the rest of my stuff in. I had a LOT of bulky awkward things to carry in, like memory foam and a comforter. You know, stuff you can only carry one of at a time and therefore makes move-in time take FOREVER.
Anyway, I got everything packed into the apartment, I need to pick up only 14 items from home (hahaha) and classes began right away the next day. It looks like my classes will be all right this semester:
Spanish 340 - Linguistics, Phonology, and Dialectology. Yuck. But I think I'll have a leg up with the speaking experience I gained while I was in Spain. Plus, three other Spain semester girls are in this class with me! I'm glad I get to keep seeing them.
Psychology 212 - Psychopathology. Also known as Abnormal Psychology. Super pumped for this one. The prof is hilarious, the material looks awesome, and if I have to have a 9:00am class, this seems like the one to have.
Psychology 335 - Health Psychology. Not as pumped about this one. It was either this, or Brain and Behavior, Cognitive Psychology, or Statistics in Psychology. Gross, more gross, and most gross. So Health Psych it is. :)
Education 307 - Literacy in Your Content Area. Basically, it sounds like how to develop and hone literacy in your students in your major. It still seems super abstract to me, and I don't know what to expect, but we'll see how it goes. At least there isn't a final exam.
Interdisciplinary 357 - Secondary World Languages Pedagogy. Or, how to teach a foreign language to high school students. This one could be the most fun, I think. First of all, there are 4 Spain semester girls in this one too. Second, there are about 7 different language majors represented in this class, which is so cool to me. We're all studying a different language, but we can all benefit from the same class.
Here's something interesting I came across. On the first day of school, I was estimating that walking from my apartment to Calvin's main campus would take 15-20 minutes. Wrong. It took like 8. hahaha. After walking EVERYWHERE in Spain, distances just don't seem as long anymore. :)
I'm guessing that my procrastinative tendencies will kick in around Monday, so I should do some homework before I lose the motivation. Besides having to leave the Grounds, homework is the other worst thing about school starting again. I don't mind class. I love seeing everyone again. I love hanging out in this apartment (with reliable internet), but I could do without the homework.
Ta for now.
Anyway, I got everything packed into the apartment, I need to pick up only 14 items from home (hahaha) and classes began right away the next day. It looks like my classes will be all right this semester:
Spanish 340 - Linguistics, Phonology, and Dialectology. Yuck. But I think I'll have a leg up with the speaking experience I gained while I was in Spain. Plus, three other Spain semester girls are in this class with me! I'm glad I get to keep seeing them.
Psychology 212 - Psychopathology. Also known as Abnormal Psychology. Super pumped for this one. The prof is hilarious, the material looks awesome, and if I have to have a 9:00am class, this seems like the one to have.
Psychology 335 - Health Psychology. Not as pumped about this one. It was either this, or Brain and Behavior, Cognitive Psychology, or Statistics in Psychology. Gross, more gross, and most gross. So Health Psych it is. :)
Education 307 - Literacy in Your Content Area. Basically, it sounds like how to develop and hone literacy in your students in your major. It still seems super abstract to me, and I don't know what to expect, but we'll see how it goes. At least there isn't a final exam.
Interdisciplinary 357 - Secondary World Languages Pedagogy. Or, how to teach a foreign language to high school students. This one could be the most fun, I think. First of all, there are 4 Spain semester girls in this one too. Second, there are about 7 different language majors represented in this class, which is so cool to me. We're all studying a different language, but we can all benefit from the same class.
Here's something interesting I came across. On the first day of school, I was estimating that walking from my apartment to Calvin's main campus would take 15-20 minutes. Wrong. It took like 8. hahaha. After walking EVERYWHERE in Spain, distances just don't seem as long anymore. :)
I'm guessing that my procrastinative tendencies will kick in around Monday, so I should do some homework before I lose the motivation. Besides having to leave the Grounds, homework is the other worst thing about school starting again. I don't mind class. I love seeing everyone again. I love hanging out in this apartment (with reliable internet), but I could do without the homework.
Ta for now.
Friday, September 2, 2011
Top 8: Highlights of Summer 2011 at the CRCG
It's hard to figure out where each of these falls, but I'll do my best. :)
8. The day we found out that Bryant doesn't like physical contact of any kind. He fears it, actually.
7. Reading books in the sunshine while laying out at the beach and pool.
6. Spending an afternoon with Autumn (4yrs) and Savannah (almost 2yrs) playing with Play-Doh and their white board. We then walked over to Dawn's trailer for popcorn and hot chocolate. Two days later, we came back for Autumn's birthday party and played pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey. Kristyn (Autumn's mom) put the donkey poster on the spare tire case on the back of a staff motor home. I had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Dawn placed her donkey tail on an entirely different trailer. :)
5. Any time we played Telephone Pictionary or Likewise. Always ended up in stitches. Of laughter. haha.
4. Any time former staff members came back to visit.
3. Being roommates with Jessica again and meeting our new roomie, Lindsey. We found out preeeeetty quickly that we all had a LOT in common and that she would fit in with us just fine. :)
2. Bringing staff and students together to perform Waka Waka (This Time for Africa) at the Middle School Week Lip Sync. Want to see the video? It was pretty spectacular. :)
1. I really don't think I could choose a top highlight. Meeting everyone at orientation and then working with them throughout the summer was fabulous. I was so blessed by all the staff members and the I hope we were a blessing to everyone who came to our great campground. :)
8. The day we found out that Bryant doesn't like physical contact of any kind. He fears it, actually.
7. Reading books in the sunshine while laying out at the beach and pool.
6. Spending an afternoon with Autumn (4yrs) and Savannah (almost 2yrs) playing with Play-Doh and their white board. We then walked over to Dawn's trailer for popcorn and hot chocolate. Two days later, we came back for Autumn's birthday party and played pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey. Kristyn (Autumn's mom) put the donkey poster on the spare tire case on the back of a staff motor home. I had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Dawn placed her donkey tail on an entirely different trailer. :)
5. Any time we played Telephone Pictionary or Likewise. Always ended up in stitches. Of laughter. haha.
4. Any time former staff members came back to visit.
3. Being roommates with Jessica again and meeting our new roomie, Lindsey. We found out preeeeetty quickly that we all had a LOT in common and that she would fit in with us just fine. :)
2. Bringing staff and students together to perform Waka Waka (This Time for Africa) at the Middle School Week Lip Sync. Want to see the video? It was pretty spectacular. :)
1. I really don't think I could choose a top highlight. Meeting everyone at orientation and then working with them throughout the summer was fabulous. I was so blessed by all the staff members and the I hope we were a blessing to everyone who came to our great campground. :)
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
My computer is broken!!!
Actually, to clarify, it's just the screen that doesn't work anymore. It's not smashed or anything, it just can't start itself up anymore. At least, I think that's how the Geek Squad representative at Best Buy described it...
So I'm in the market for a new laptop. I was wandering around the Best Buy in Zeeland getting all excited about computer (I'm a bit of a nerd, bear with me) and the computers they had on display have come a loooonngg way from where mine is, and I only got it 3 years ago! The one with the smallest about of hard drive space was like 300GB (mine is 212) and the most was 1.5TB (which is 1500 GB, for those who are unfamiliar with computer hard disk conversions ;) )!
For about 5 seconds I was seriously considering switching camps and buying a Mac, but then I remembered that all of my stuff is formatted for PC. All my music, documents, my entire external hard drive, everything. Sorry Mac enthusiasts, this girl's staying with Windows.
I hope to have a new one in my hands on Friday, so I apologize for not posting anything else on here for awhile. We're getting down to the wire with all of the college staff leaving for school and orientation and commitments and everywhere is short-staffed. Thank goodness we have only 50ish kids in Bible School (average per week is about 100) because we're down from 16 teachers to only 6. We'd really have a problem if numbers were as high as they were last week (120!) :)
Happy early Labor Day weekend to you all, try to relax and enjoy the last bit of summer, capische?
So I'm in the market for a new laptop. I was wandering around the Best Buy in Zeeland getting all excited about computer (I'm a bit of a nerd, bear with me) and the computers they had on display have come a loooonngg way from where mine is, and I only got it 3 years ago! The one with the smallest about of hard drive space was like 300GB (mine is 212) and the most was 1.5TB (which is 1500 GB, for those who are unfamiliar with computer hard disk conversions ;) )!
For about 5 seconds I was seriously considering switching camps and buying a Mac, but then I remembered that all of my stuff is formatted for PC. All my music, documents, my entire external hard drive, everything. Sorry Mac enthusiasts, this girl's staying with Windows.
I hope to have a new one in my hands on Friday, so I apologize for not posting anything else on here for awhile. We're getting down to the wire with all of the college staff leaving for school and orientation and commitments and everywhere is short-staffed. Thank goodness we have only 50ish kids in Bible School (average per week is about 100) because we're down from 16 teachers to only 6. We'd really have a problem if numbers were as high as they were last week (120!) :)
Happy early Labor Day weekend to you all, try to relax and enjoy the last bit of summer, capische?
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Andrea's Guide to Michigan Weather
Psh, yeah right. NO ONE has a guide to Michigan's weather.
I experienced just about every type of Michigan weather tonight (except frozen varieties of precipitation). I made the stupid decision to drive all the way back to the Grounds after a Spain reunion in East GR. Mom will be so proud of my ability to judge the weather and make good decisions about driving in it.
So, Spain Reunion - fantastic. Only 7 people showed up, and only 5 stayed more than an hour, but it was still a lot of fun. Cynthia made us some fabulous Spanish food (paella, tortilla, the works), we got to reminiscing, did some Ge impersonations, caught up on each other's lives post-Spain, and heard a lot about the re-vamping they did of the program. We were the last group to be in Denia, and the group that leaves in a couple of weeks is going to Oviedo, which is in the north of Spain, instead. It was so great to see everyone that was there and hear us all stumbling through our Spanish. I had forgotten how different people's voices sound when they are speaking another language. I'm not sure how to describe it, but some people have entirely different voices once you layer on an accent and different inflections. Over all, I'm really glad I drove in for it because it was so great to see everyone.
Now here is where the bad decision comes in.
I'm leaving Cynthia's house, lightning all over the sky, but I figure, eh. No big deal. I'll just drive back. Let me give you a bit of a play-by-play of my drive home.
East GR: I got a little lost in Cynthia's neighborhood, but ended up on Kalamazoo Ave. I figured I'd hit 131 as it crossed Burton, switch to 196, then take Lake Mich all the way back to GH. Straightforward, right? Wrong.
Burton and 131: Closed. Detour to Hall and 131. If I had known that 131 crossed Hall, I would have just taken Hall from Cynthia's to 131. Oh well, now I'm where I aimed to be. It's raining a bit, but nothing horrible. I forgot how much I like driving on the highway at night, especially through downtown GR where it's all lit up and you can see all the big buildings, not to mention, the cityscape was backlit by lightning every 5 seconds.
131 and 196 Interchange: No problems. Raining a little bit harder.
196's Lake Mich Drive exit: Raining harder, but it still doesn't occur to Andrea to get back on the highway and just go home to Grandville.
The West Side: Rain lets up a little, and I feel better about deciding to drive back to GH. Lightning is still tearing up the sky, which should have been a warning sign.
The area between Standale and Allendale (Stallendale) : Raining even harder, windshield wipers going almost full speed. Seriously regretting the decision to drive.
The Grand Valley area: OH MY GOSH, THE CLOUDS HAVE EXPLODED AND I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING. Hydroplaning is a way of life right now, and I'm scared out mah mind. Seriously considering pulling off at the nearest parking lot on this side of the road and ridin' the storm out.
Allendale proper: The rain has let up significantly and I figure, okay, I can do this. There's no point in turning around now because I would just be driving with the same storm I just passed through. I'll take my chances with the weather I encounter.
No Man's Land / Zeeland area: Fog as far as the eye can see (which is about a tenth of a mile, no joke). It's still raining, but not as bad. Lightning is still shooting from Holland to Muskegon across my windshield and I just hope I make it back before the next downpour hits.
US 31 and Lake Michigan Drive: Raining like normal, and then the BIGGEST and BRIGHTEST flash of lightning explodes right over my head. This is followed by, of course, the LOUDEST and SCARIEST crack of thunder EVER. I jumped and actually hit my head on the roof of my car. If I hadn't been stopped at the intersection, I probably would have caused an accident.
Lake Mich Drive between 31 and Lakeshore: All of a sudden, it starts to rain super hard again, and upon further inspection through the fog, I can see the raindrops are bouncing. Yup, bouncing. It is hailing!!
Lakeshore Drive: Riddled with fog and more hail, not to mention the continuing downpour. I made it home safe, and little worse for wear. My nerves are absolutely shot, though...
Moral of the story: Check the weather before you go ANYWHERE in Michigan. Then, disregard it, and prepare for anything because it's imPOSSible to predict it.
I experienced just about every type of Michigan weather tonight (except frozen varieties of precipitation). I made the stupid decision to drive all the way back to the Grounds after a Spain reunion in East GR. Mom will be so proud of my ability to judge the weather and make good decisions about driving in it.
So, Spain Reunion - fantastic. Only 7 people showed up, and only 5 stayed more than an hour, but it was still a lot of fun. Cynthia made us some fabulous Spanish food (paella, tortilla, the works), we got to reminiscing, did some Ge impersonations, caught up on each other's lives post-Spain, and heard a lot about the re-vamping they did of the program. We were the last group to be in Denia, and the group that leaves in a couple of weeks is going to Oviedo, which is in the north of Spain, instead. It was so great to see everyone that was there and hear us all stumbling through our Spanish. I had forgotten how different people's voices sound when they are speaking another language. I'm not sure how to describe it, but some people have entirely different voices once you layer on an accent and different inflections. Over all, I'm really glad I drove in for it because it was so great to see everyone.
Now here is where the bad decision comes in.
I'm leaving Cynthia's house, lightning all over the sky, but I figure, eh. No big deal. I'll just drive back. Let me give you a bit of a play-by-play of my drive home.
East GR: I got a little lost in Cynthia's neighborhood, but ended up on Kalamazoo Ave. I figured I'd hit 131 as it crossed Burton, switch to 196, then take Lake Mich all the way back to GH. Straightforward, right? Wrong.
Burton and 131: Closed. Detour to Hall and 131. If I had known that 131 crossed Hall, I would have just taken Hall from Cynthia's to 131. Oh well, now I'm where I aimed to be. It's raining a bit, but nothing horrible. I forgot how much I like driving on the highway at night, especially through downtown GR where it's all lit up and you can see all the big buildings, not to mention, the cityscape was backlit by lightning every 5 seconds.
131 and 196 Interchange: No problems. Raining a little bit harder.
196's Lake Mich Drive exit: Raining harder, but it still doesn't occur to Andrea to get back on the highway and just go home to Grandville.
The West Side: Rain lets up a little, and I feel better about deciding to drive back to GH. Lightning is still tearing up the sky, which should have been a warning sign.
The area between Standale and Allendale (Stallendale) : Raining even harder, windshield wipers going almost full speed. Seriously regretting the decision to drive.
The Grand Valley area: OH MY GOSH, THE CLOUDS HAVE EXPLODED AND I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING. Hydroplaning is a way of life right now, and I'm scared out mah mind. Seriously considering pulling off at the nearest parking lot on this side of the road and ridin' the storm out.
Allendale proper: The rain has let up significantly and I figure, okay, I can do this. There's no point in turning around now because I would just be driving with the same storm I just passed through. I'll take my chances with the weather I encounter.
No Man's Land / Zeeland area: Fog as far as the eye can see (which is about a tenth of a mile, no joke). It's still raining, but not as bad. Lightning is still shooting from Holland to Muskegon across my windshield and I just hope I make it back before the next downpour hits.
US 31 and Lake Michigan Drive: Raining like normal, and then the BIGGEST and BRIGHTEST flash of lightning explodes right over my head. This is followed by, of course, the LOUDEST and SCARIEST crack of thunder EVER. I jumped and actually hit my head on the roof of my car. If I hadn't been stopped at the intersection, I probably would have caused an accident.
Lake Mich Drive between 31 and Lakeshore: All of a sudden, it starts to rain super hard again, and upon further inspection through the fog, I can see the raindrops are bouncing. Yup, bouncing. It is hailing!!
Lakeshore Drive: Riddled with fog and more hail, not to mention the continuing downpour. I made it home safe, and little worse for wear. My nerves are absolutely shot, though...
Moral of the story: Check the weather before you go ANYWHERE in Michigan. Then, disregard it, and prepare for anything because it's imPOSSible to predict it.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
Stillness
Over the last several months, I've been finding it difficult to sing in church.
I don't know why this is happening, or even an effective way to describe it. I see the words on the screen, I'm enjoying the music, but when I open my mouth to sing, no sound comes out. My throat tightens and the words get caught.
I had been feeling guilty about this until today. People see me in church and they know I'm a Christian (especially here at the Grounds), but when they see me with my mouth closed and not singing, what do they think? God requests our worship, and most of us equate worship with singing and music. I know I do.
But what if God also requests our silence? What if he asks, "Please, just be quiet, stop making noise. I'd rather have your silence."
The verse that I came across that gave me some comfort about this dilemma comes from 1 Peter 3:4. It's the chapter that talks about how women should behave in the context of their families and in the church. I know there are about a million debates about whether or not this chapter has become outdated as it talks about how women should be silent and submissive to their husbands. But there is one thing that I'm confident will never become outdated; a quality that God values: "Rather, [beauty] should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight." I'm going to strive to find that spirit in myself.
I think it's okay that I find myself without a song in my mouth on Sunday morning. The song is still in my heart.
I don't know why this is happening, or even an effective way to describe it. I see the words on the screen, I'm enjoying the music, but when I open my mouth to sing, no sound comes out. My throat tightens and the words get caught.
I had been feeling guilty about this until today. People see me in church and they know I'm a Christian (especially here at the Grounds), but when they see me with my mouth closed and not singing, what do they think? God requests our worship, and most of us equate worship with singing and music. I know I do.
But what if God also requests our silence? What if he asks, "Please, just be quiet, stop making noise. I'd rather have your silence."
The verse that I came across that gave me some comfort about this dilemma comes from 1 Peter 3:4. It's the chapter that talks about how women should behave in the context of their families and in the church. I know there are about a million debates about whether or not this chapter has become outdated as it talks about how women should be silent and submissive to their husbands. But there is one thing that I'm confident will never become outdated; a quality that God values: "Rather, [beauty] should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight." I'm going to strive to find that spirit in myself.
I think it's okay that I find myself without a song in my mouth on Sunday morning. The song is still in my heart.
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Mental Illness and the Church's Reaction
I'm reading a book right now called Finding Alice and it's the story of a college student from a religious family who, during a stressful senior year and a nasty breakup, develops schizophrenia.
Whoa. Schizophrenia. Is it okay to talk about this? What should good Christian people think about mental illness?
One overhears many things while working at a Christian campground, and these things (and the opinions attached) cover the entire spectrum of Christian affiliation. Even though this is a Christian Reformed campground, we also get Protestant Reformed, United Reformed, "plain ole" Reformed, and some other denominations that are farther on down toward the liberal side. Just the other day, I was selling candy to some children whose mothers were discussing a girl in their church who had been sent away to a rehab facility for her depression. I thought this news was odd, mostly because I know several people who function day-to-day with depression and, with the help of medication or therapy, come out all right. Some days are harder than others, but they have a support system to hold them up through the rough times. I listened a little while longer (and this has been the only time in which I've been thankful that kids have taken so long to choose their candy), and this is what I heard:
Woman 1: "She was sent away?"
Woman 2: "Yes. Well, can you blame them? They didn't want everyone knowing their daughter was (whispered) depressed. I certainly wouldn't want that to happen to me."
Woman 3: "Well of course not. What would people say? I mean, we're supposed to pray for those that are sick, but bringing this kind of thing up as a prayer request just reflects badly on the whole family, you know?"
Woman 2: "Exactly. This is just the best solution all around. I hope she gets better."
I had to excuse myself. It's no wonder mental illness has such a stigma attached to it. I could not believe these women. However, if they were raised in a family that behaved this way toward mental illness and had never experienced it firsthand, can I really blame them for having these opinions? Almost every church that I have ever attended has approached mental illness in one of three ways:
1. Since the symptoms are not physically manifested, it doesn't really exist. It's just an excuse for people to be grumpy and upset. We can't see it, so let's pretend it's not real.
2. Mental illness is the result of demons possessing one's body and soul. The person who is mentally ill is allowing these demons to possess them and they need to pray and believe with their whole being that God will expel them and heal them. It is a direct sign of spiritual warfare and the affected person has become the battleground. Perhaps they are being punished for not being faithful enough, but we can't know the mind of God. They must overcome their feelings of (depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, addiction, compulsion, insert illness here) in order for God to come into their lives and rebuke the devils from where they have taken root.
3. This one saddens me the most, and unfortunately, it's the approach I've seen in far too many churches in my short 21 years: Mental illness happens when a person is not being a good enough Christian. Anxious? It's because you're not trusting God enough and searching for His peace. Addicted? It's because you aren't letting God provide for you and He should be all you need. Depressed? It's because you're not taking advantage of the joy that God gives us. You just need to trust God! You wouldn't be feeling this way if you did some more devotions, read your Bible more, prayed longer, and attended more church functions.
It should not be like this. Christians should not be making other Christians feel guilty for experiencing emotions that have been labeled "un-Christian." As far as I can tell, every emotion ever felt by the human race was created by God (we are made in His image, after all) and therefore, NONE of them can be un-Christian. Do we look down on those who are diabetic or have heart disease? No. Do we put the blame on those who are confined to wheelchairs, telling them that they weren't reading their Bible enough? No. Do we tell cancer patients that they are sick because God is punishing them? NO. Then why on earth do we do this to people who suffer from mental illnesses?!
The difficult thing is that it's all happening in the mind of the person who is affected. Depression doesn't leave a rash. Schizophrenia doesn't make your limbs shake. For the most part, it all takes place in the person's head. This makes it incredibly difficult for the person who thinks they might be mentally ill. They second-guess themselves. They rationalize. They compare themselves to those who are healthy. And then, because of the stigma placed on their condition by society (and, unfortunately, the church), they deny, deny, deny.
Let's swing back around to depression in particular because 1) it's the one I know the most about and 2) it was the subject of the conversation that sparked this whole post. It's probably one of the most under-diagnosed and over-rationalized diseases on the planet today. Why under-diagnosed? Because people are proud and don't want to admit that their lives are less than the perfection they project on the outside. Plus, the church alternately claims it doesn't exist and writes it off as a symptom of bad Christianity. Why over-rationalized? Because society doesn't understand it. Depression is not "feeling sad." 'Depressed' as an emotion could mean feeling sad, but 'depression' as a state of being is a whole lot more complicated. It's more like...standing in a hole that is just a little bit deeper than your height. You can see out the top, but you can't climb out. You can see everyone else having fun and being happy and living normal lives, but you can't join them. This can manifest itself in any number of ways, from feeling sad to lying on a bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to even move.
When a physical illness brings a person down, the reaction is pity and sympathy. When mental illness brings a person down, the reaction is "snap out of it." You can't tell a diabetic to "snap out of it" any more than you can yell at their genetic code to prevent them from having diabetes in the first place. It's the same with mental illness of almost every kind. They are built into our genetic material and "snapping out of it" simply isn't an option. Personally, I hate it when someone tells me to cheer up or look on the bright side and remember all of God's blessings. I'll let you in on a little secret: the depressed person is often incapable of cheering themselves up. But it doesn't mean that we are forgetting God's blessings or ignoring His presence in our life. Believe me, God's blessing is what gets me through the bad days.
Here's what the church can do: minister to those who are mentally sick and help them find healing. Don't imply that their condition is their fault, don't tell them their faith isn't strong enough, and don't turn them away. I firmly believe that mental illness can be more dangerous than physical illness because we don't know enough about it and we try to diminish its power.
Overcoming the stigma is the first step toward healing.
Whoa. Schizophrenia. Is it okay to talk about this? What should good Christian people think about mental illness?
One overhears many things while working at a Christian campground, and these things (and the opinions attached) cover the entire spectrum of Christian affiliation. Even though this is a Christian Reformed campground, we also get Protestant Reformed, United Reformed, "plain ole" Reformed, and some other denominations that are farther on down toward the liberal side. Just the other day, I was selling candy to some children whose mothers were discussing a girl in their church who had been sent away to a rehab facility for her depression. I thought this news was odd, mostly because I know several people who function day-to-day with depression and, with the help of medication or therapy, come out all right. Some days are harder than others, but they have a support system to hold them up through the rough times. I listened a little while longer (and this has been the only time in which I've been thankful that kids have taken so long to choose their candy), and this is what I heard:
Woman 1: "She was sent away?"
Woman 2: "Yes. Well, can you blame them? They didn't want everyone knowing their daughter was (whispered) depressed. I certainly wouldn't want that to happen to me."
Woman 3: "Well of course not. What would people say? I mean, we're supposed to pray for those that are sick, but bringing this kind of thing up as a prayer request just reflects badly on the whole family, you know?"
Woman 2: "Exactly. This is just the best solution all around. I hope she gets better."
I had to excuse myself. It's no wonder mental illness has such a stigma attached to it. I could not believe these women. However, if they were raised in a family that behaved this way toward mental illness and had never experienced it firsthand, can I really blame them for having these opinions? Almost every church that I have ever attended has approached mental illness in one of three ways:
1. Since the symptoms are not physically manifested, it doesn't really exist. It's just an excuse for people to be grumpy and upset. We can't see it, so let's pretend it's not real.
2. Mental illness is the result of demons possessing one's body and soul. The person who is mentally ill is allowing these demons to possess them and they need to pray and believe with their whole being that God will expel them and heal them. It is a direct sign of spiritual warfare and the affected person has become the battleground. Perhaps they are being punished for not being faithful enough, but we can't know the mind of God. They must overcome their feelings of (depression, anxiety, schizophrenia, addiction, compulsion, insert illness here) in order for God to come into their lives and rebuke the devils from where they have taken root.
3. This one saddens me the most, and unfortunately, it's the approach I've seen in far too many churches in my short 21 years: Mental illness happens when a person is not being a good enough Christian. Anxious? It's because you're not trusting God enough and searching for His peace. Addicted? It's because you aren't letting God provide for you and He should be all you need. Depressed? It's because you're not taking advantage of the joy that God gives us. You just need to trust God! You wouldn't be feeling this way if you did some more devotions, read your Bible more, prayed longer, and attended more church functions.
It should not be like this. Christians should not be making other Christians feel guilty for experiencing emotions that have been labeled "un-Christian." As far as I can tell, every emotion ever felt by the human race was created by God (we are made in His image, after all) and therefore, NONE of them can be un-Christian. Do we look down on those who are diabetic or have heart disease? No. Do we put the blame on those who are confined to wheelchairs, telling them that they weren't reading their Bible enough? No. Do we tell cancer patients that they are sick because God is punishing them? NO. Then why on earth do we do this to people who suffer from mental illnesses?!
The difficult thing is that it's all happening in the mind of the person who is affected. Depression doesn't leave a rash. Schizophrenia doesn't make your limbs shake. For the most part, it all takes place in the person's head. This makes it incredibly difficult for the person who thinks they might be mentally ill. They second-guess themselves. They rationalize. They compare themselves to those who are healthy. And then, because of the stigma placed on their condition by society (and, unfortunately, the church), they deny, deny, deny.
Let's swing back around to depression in particular because 1) it's the one I know the most about and 2) it was the subject of the conversation that sparked this whole post. It's probably one of the most under-diagnosed and over-rationalized diseases on the planet today. Why under-diagnosed? Because people are proud and don't want to admit that their lives are less than the perfection they project on the outside. Plus, the church alternately claims it doesn't exist and writes it off as a symptom of bad Christianity. Why over-rationalized? Because society doesn't understand it. Depression is not "feeling sad." 'Depressed' as an emotion could mean feeling sad, but 'depression' as a state of being is a whole lot more complicated. It's more like...standing in a hole that is just a little bit deeper than your height. You can see out the top, but you can't climb out. You can see everyone else having fun and being happy and living normal lives, but you can't join them. This can manifest itself in any number of ways, from feeling sad to lying on a bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to even move.
When a physical illness brings a person down, the reaction is pity and sympathy. When mental illness brings a person down, the reaction is "snap out of it." You can't tell a diabetic to "snap out of it" any more than you can yell at their genetic code to prevent them from having diabetes in the first place. It's the same with mental illness of almost every kind. They are built into our genetic material and "snapping out of it" simply isn't an option. Personally, I hate it when someone tells me to cheer up or look on the bright side and remember all of God's blessings. I'll let you in on a little secret: the depressed person is often incapable of cheering themselves up. But it doesn't mean that we are forgetting God's blessings or ignoring His presence in our life. Believe me, God's blessing is what gets me through the bad days.
Here's what the church can do: minister to those who are mentally sick and help them find healing. Don't imply that their condition is their fault, don't tell them their faith isn't strong enough, and don't turn them away. I firmly believe that mental illness can be more dangerous than physical illness because we don't know enough about it and we try to diminish its power.
Overcoming the stigma is the first step toward healing.
Saturday, August 13, 2011
You Is Kind. You Is Smart. You Is Important.
If you have not seen the movie The Help, I strongly recommend seeing it. I went with a bunch of friends/co-workers to the theater last night and I didn't really know much about this movie, but Beth said I had to come because I had off on a Friday night and I needed to do something. Okay. So I went to see this movie, and it was one of the best movies I have seen in theaters in a looooong time.
It takes place in Mississippi during the 50s/60s, right before the Civil Rights Movement really got underway. It focuses on the relationships between wealthy white families and the black women they employ as maids. Well, 'maids' might be too soft of a term. They are treated like slaves, except that they get paid. One of the main characters, Eugenia 'Skeeter' Phelan, aspires to be a writer and is shocked to witness the way that her Junior League acquaintances treat (or rather, mistreat) their maids. She begins to talk with them, hear their stories, and they decide to compile these stories and experiences into a book. The problem is that relationships between blacks and white were encouraged to be unequal in that society, and collaboration between blacks and whites in order to effect social change was illegal. Writing this book, then, was illegal.
The movie pulls no punches in their honest portrayal of this era. I was shocked and appalled by some of things I saw. For instance...
1. Black maids were not allowed to use the house's bathrooms. They either had their own outhouses in the yard, or sometimes the family was wealthy enough to add a "colored bathroom" inside. Many whites were under the impression that using the same toilet as a colored person would infect them with diseases that colored people supposedly carried, and a maid who used the family's bathroom was threatened with dismissal.
2. The maids actually raise the white family's children. The main character, Skeeter, was raised by her maid. The white mothers either don't have the time or don't have the interest for raising their children, but having children is expected, so the raising and discipline of children was left to the maids. So how does that work, then? Hundreds of kids, multiple generations, are being raised by black women, yet the black women have no social or civil rights of any kind? 9 times out of 10, the maid who raised a child would go on to raise that child's children. Yet somewhere along the line, the respect the child had for the woman who raised him or her disappears and they begin to act exactly as their mothers did. The title of this post comes from a line spoken by one of the other main characters, Aibileen Clark. She says it to her 'white babies' in the hopes that they will grow up to believe in themselves, even without the love and interaction from their actual parents.
3. Who, then, raises the children of the maids? Sometimes, no one. The children would be left with the oldest sibling all day (if they were not old enough to be in school) and therefore the oldest had to stop going to school to either become a babysitter or a maid herself, once she was old enough. Sometimes, a grandmother or another black woman in the community who couldn't work as a maid anymore raised many black children, but it was very rare because women needed to work just as hard in order to make ends meet for their family.
4. Black people were treated as second-class citizens. This seems like an obvious statement, but we don't always see it as much today. The Help really fleshed it out for me: White families would talk about their maids or black people in general in a way that would be considered blatantly racist today, but was commonplace in that time. It was assumed that black people could not be trusted, and for this reason, many were fired or beaten for having done things that they did not do (stealing, mistreating, etc.). The bathroom thing. Jim Crow Laws. They were treated as if they were less than human.
I wish I could meet some of the black women that were portrayed in this movie and hear their stories firsthand. I have great admiration for these women and the strength they have because I never really knew about this time period of southern society. We learn about slavery in school for years on end, and after the Emancipation Proclamation, we jump right to the Civil Rights Movement. But what about the 100 years in between? The Help covers the last 10 or so years of that in-between slice of history and it really opened my eyes.
I absolutely loved this movie and I can't wait to see it again. If I were a history teacher, I would put this movie into my lesson plans. Please go see it. You will laugh, and you might cry, but you will not be disappointed.
It takes place in Mississippi during the 50s/60s, right before the Civil Rights Movement really got underway. It focuses on the relationships between wealthy white families and the black women they employ as maids. Well, 'maids' might be too soft of a term. They are treated like slaves, except that they get paid. One of the main characters, Eugenia 'Skeeter' Phelan, aspires to be a writer and is shocked to witness the way that her Junior League acquaintances treat (or rather, mistreat) their maids. She begins to talk with them, hear their stories, and they decide to compile these stories and experiences into a book. The problem is that relationships between blacks and white were encouraged to be unequal in that society, and collaboration between blacks and whites in order to effect social change was illegal. Writing this book, then, was illegal.
The movie pulls no punches in their honest portrayal of this era. I was shocked and appalled by some of things I saw. For instance...
1. Black maids were not allowed to use the house's bathrooms. They either had their own outhouses in the yard, or sometimes the family was wealthy enough to add a "colored bathroom" inside. Many whites were under the impression that using the same toilet as a colored person would infect them with diseases that colored people supposedly carried, and a maid who used the family's bathroom was threatened with dismissal.
2. The maids actually raise the white family's children. The main character, Skeeter, was raised by her maid. The white mothers either don't have the time or don't have the interest for raising their children, but having children is expected, so the raising and discipline of children was left to the maids. So how does that work, then? Hundreds of kids, multiple generations, are being raised by black women, yet the black women have no social or civil rights of any kind? 9 times out of 10, the maid who raised a child would go on to raise that child's children. Yet somewhere along the line, the respect the child had for the woman who raised him or her disappears and they begin to act exactly as their mothers did. The title of this post comes from a line spoken by one of the other main characters, Aibileen Clark. She says it to her 'white babies' in the hopes that they will grow up to believe in themselves, even without the love and interaction from their actual parents.
3. Who, then, raises the children of the maids? Sometimes, no one. The children would be left with the oldest sibling all day (if they were not old enough to be in school) and therefore the oldest had to stop going to school to either become a babysitter or a maid herself, once she was old enough. Sometimes, a grandmother or another black woman in the community who couldn't work as a maid anymore raised many black children, but it was very rare because women needed to work just as hard in order to make ends meet for their family.
4. Black people were treated as second-class citizens. This seems like an obvious statement, but we don't always see it as much today. The Help really fleshed it out for me: White families would talk about their maids or black people in general in a way that would be considered blatantly racist today, but was commonplace in that time. It was assumed that black people could not be trusted, and for this reason, many were fired or beaten for having done things that they did not do (stealing, mistreating, etc.). The bathroom thing. Jim Crow Laws. They were treated as if they were less than human.
I wish I could meet some of the black women that were portrayed in this movie and hear their stories firsthand. I have great admiration for these women and the strength they have because I never really knew about this time period of southern society. We learn about slavery in school for years on end, and after the Emancipation Proclamation, we jump right to the Civil Rights Movement. But what about the 100 years in between? The Help covers the last 10 or so years of that in-between slice of history and it really opened my eyes.
I absolutely loved this movie and I can't wait to see it again. If I were a history teacher, I would put this movie into my lesson plans. Please go see it. You will laugh, and you might cry, but you will not be disappointed.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Something to Warm My Heart
I teach 3rd and 4th grade Bible School out here at the Conference Grounds and generally, I'm not the teacher that the kids remember. Or, if I am the one they remember and point out to their parents, it's the kids that aren't my students. In fact, most of the 4 and 5 year olds get me mixed up with their actual teacher, Samantha, because we look a lot alike, especially to them. But as far as the 3rd and 4th graders go, it's usually James that they remember because he is so crazy and charismatic and somehow gets the "too cool for school" boys to behave.
That's okay by me. I'm used to it. But today, I got a nice little surprise! Corie, one of my 3rd graders, came into the store about 17 times. This is not unusual for Corie, who is at the Grounds all the time. Her grandparents work here, her mom is the main gal for Special Needs Week, and they love any excuse to come out to the beach and get ice cream. The final time that she came in, she handed me a note. I opened the note, and this is what it said:
It warmed my heart right up! Not only because it was so cute, but because it cut to that piece of my heart that twinges whenever my kids forget my name and that I'm their teacher. I know that there are kids who know who I am and remember my name and think I'm great, but I always seem to remember the ones that don't. That's how it always is, isn't it? We remember only the sad, and never the good. Anyway, I had to come around the corner and give Corie a big hug, and I told her that she made my whole day. I wished her a good school year, and she promised to tell me who her teacher is as soon as she finds out. :)
After a week of unruly misbehaving boys, my little Corie turned it allllllll around.
That's okay by me. I'm used to it. But today, I got a nice little surprise! Corie, one of my 3rd graders, came into the store about 17 times. This is not unusual for Corie, who is at the Grounds all the time. Her grandparents work here, her mom is the main gal for Special Needs Week, and they love any excuse to come out to the beach and get ice cream. The final time that she came in, she handed me a note. I opened the note, and this is what it said:
After a week of unruly misbehaving boys, my little Corie turned it allllllll around.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Top 8: Highlights from the 2011 Campo Family Reunion
Sorry for not posting in ages...things got hectic and busy.
8. Getting to sit in the front seat for the drive (Matthew and I drove separately) and getting to pick the music.
7. Finally being old enough to drink the EXCELLENT wine that my Uncle Bill's winery makes.
6. My drunken Uncle Don announcing on Saturday night that he drank 10 beers.
5. Going to the beach for the first time in 3 weeks while in Traverse City. This is ironic because I live right on the beach in Grand Haven.
4. Playing Spoons out on the deck at cousin Doug's house and ripping the tablecloth beyond all repair.
3. My drunken Aunt Phyllis asking me who I'm doing instead of how I'm doing.
2. Not having to work in the store Friday OR Saturday.
1. Seeing all of my extended Campo family relatives and all the cute little kids they've had recently!
8. Getting to sit in the front seat for the drive (Matthew and I drove separately) and getting to pick the music.
7. Finally being old enough to drink the EXCELLENT wine that my Uncle Bill's winery makes.
6. My drunken Uncle Don announcing on Saturday night that he drank 10 beers.
5. Going to the beach for the first time in 3 weeks while in Traverse City. This is ironic because I live right on the beach in Grand Haven.
4. Playing Spoons out on the deck at cousin Doug's house and ripping the tablecloth beyond all repair.
3. My drunken Aunt Phyllis asking me who I'm doing instead of how I'm doing.
2. Not having to work in the store Friday OR Saturday.
1. Seeing all of my extended Campo family relatives and all the cute little kids they've had recently!
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Waka Waka Lip Sync!!
So, this is what all of my focus has gone toward this week and most of the reason that I haven't posted anything in a while. IT was Middle School Week this week and Friday is always the Lip Sync. This year, since I have been absolutely OBSESSED with the song Waka Waka (This Time for Africa), I put together some choreography and prayed real hard that it could come together. It all came together by the end, and the middle schoolers weren't even incorporated until last night! The staff had been practicing since Sunday, but we never got every person at every practice. What you see in this video is the first time that every participant was on stage at the same time. Thank goodess we didn't run out of stage space. :)
Sit back and enjoy!
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Blast From the Past
I worked in the store last night and I can say with 400% confidence that it was 80 billion degrees in there. We sold liquid ice cream instead of solid ice cream and I made 5 Fuzzy Freezes in a row. For those that are unfamiliar with this product, it is orange sherbet (one of our hardest ice creams) and Sprite mixed together with our Razzle machine. Basically, it's the thing that takes the longest to make, besides maybe hard shakes and malts. But here's the good news: I made 5 of them in 12 minutes. That's less than 3 minutes per Fuzzy Freeze! Olympic champion right here.
Close to the end of the shift, I served a man his double twist (which is about 6 inches tall). This in itself was a colossal feat because the soft serve was very tippy. Anyway, he complimented me on how nice the cone looked. Here is how the conversation followed:
Man: "You know, this is a really nice cone. It's so straight and it's not leaning at all. A few years ago, I got a double twist and the girl was obviously new and not very good at soft serve and the whole thing tipped over when she handed it to me. I was so mad. It got all over my shirt and practically ruined it. I kind of chewed her out because it was all her fault and she should have made it better. I wonder if that girl still works here...and if she's gotten any better at her soft serve cones..."
Me: "Sir, I'm the one who served you that cone."
Open mouth. Insert foot.
I'm happy to say that he was speechless and then apologized profusely for chewing me out and making me feel horrible about that cone. It was my first summer, an incredibly hot night, soft serve was either so soft it wouldn't stand up on its cone or it wouldn't come out at all, and I have always remembered that customer. It felt kind of nice to have him apologize for the completely undeserved tirade he unleashed on me. :)
I guess even after 4 years, it's still worth it to apologize.
Close to the end of the shift, I served a man his double twist (which is about 6 inches tall). This in itself was a colossal feat because the soft serve was very tippy. Anyway, he complimented me on how nice the cone looked. Here is how the conversation followed:
Man: "You know, this is a really nice cone. It's so straight and it's not leaning at all. A few years ago, I got a double twist and the girl was obviously new and not very good at soft serve and the whole thing tipped over when she handed it to me. I was so mad. It got all over my shirt and practically ruined it. I kind of chewed her out because it was all her fault and she should have made it better. I wonder if that girl still works here...and if she's gotten any better at her soft serve cones..."
Me: "Sir, I'm the one who served you that cone."
Open mouth. Insert foot.
I'm happy to say that he was speechless and then apologized profusely for chewing me out and making me feel horrible about that cone. It was my first summer, an incredibly hot night, soft serve was either so soft it wouldn't stand up on its cone or it wouldn't come out at all, and I have always remembered that customer. It felt kind of nice to have him apologize for the completely undeserved tirade he unleashed on me. :)
I guess even after 4 years, it's still worth it to apologize.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
After Reading This, Please Pray For Us
A few people here have some very big decisions to make in the next couple of days.
Please pray that a solution will be found to a very frustrating situation.
Pray that we would be open-minded and slow to pass judgment during our meetings.
Pray that God's hedge of protection would surround us, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
Pray that the staff would have the courage to speak their hearts and to live without fear.
We covet your prayers.
Please pray that a solution will be found to a very frustrating situation.
Pray that we would be open-minded and slow to pass judgment during our meetings.
Pray that God's hedge of protection would surround us, physically, emotionally, and spiritually.
Pray that the staff would have the courage to speak their hearts and to live without fear.
We covet your prayers.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Sandcastles
A wise person told me once that if you're feeling stressed out, upset, or worthless, you should go play with children.
Tonight, I was on the new beach deck (gorgeous, by the way) and I was looking out over the lake and the coming sunset and the people that were sitting or playing on the beach (and the crazies that were in the water swimming), and I saw two of my favorite (well, really, they're ALL my favorite) staff kids playing down in the sand. Blaze, 7, and Isaiah, 5, were constructing a HUGE structure that can only be considered a sand fortress. It had a big ole wall with towers every few inches, a giant hole in the middle with an island and a "flag" (read: long piece of dead dune grass), and the hole had an island in the middle. I asked Blaze if he wanted to fill in the area around the island and make it like a lake, but he said that it actually wasn't an island, but a mountain coming out of a valley. They put me to work smoothing out the land and putting more towers on the interior of the fortress. Once I'd filled all of that in, we decided we wanted a lake outside the fortress. So Blaze and I set to work digging out a hole in which to pour bucketfuls of water while Isaiah outfitted the outer walls with smaller towers. I'm telling you, this thing was the most secure sandcastle in the entire world.
I taught Blaze how if you dig down far enough, you'll find water, and that's how you know that you can fill in your hole with water and it won't soak in. He thought this was so cool and wanted to dig a bunch of other holes, but I said that we should just focus on this one. We raced back and forth between our hole and the shore to get more water, giggling the whole time. No sooner had a turned my back to get more water when I heard a loud splash. Blaze had jumped into his little hole and his entire body filled it up. He had the BIGGEST grin on his face and I knew he was having so much fun. Isaiah was still working on his towers and shaking his head with a smile on his face, as if he was the older, wiser brother.
It was at this moment that I realized why playing with children was the cure for stress and sadness. Kids are still able to use their imaginations to see a world with no problems. They don't worry about the little things. For instance, I managed to get a lot of wet sand on my shorts, and when I mentioned this to Isaiah, he simply said, "It's okay! It's just sand! Put them in the laundry and your mom will wash them for you!" This made me laugh a LOT. Kids are just so funny, especially these two.
I wish my life now was as easy and carefree as it was when I was their age. Blaze's biggest worry this evening was the fact that the walls of our "lake" were caving in from the water in it. My biggest worry is paying for college. Isaiah's biggest worry was not having enough towers around the outside of the fortress. My biggest worry is never finding someone who will marry me. Getting a job after graduation. Figuring out how to keep my closest friends in my life while we get pulled in different directions. No comparison, eh?
I'm happy to say that for 1 hour and 7 minutes, I was able to forget everything that was on my mind and just build sandcastles. And even though I was running around and all over the place with those two, it was the most rested I've felt in a loooooooong time. Ironic, right? Never underestimate the power of time spent with children.
Tonight, I was on the new beach deck (gorgeous, by the way) and I was looking out over the lake and the coming sunset and the people that were sitting or playing on the beach (and the crazies that were in the water swimming), and I saw two of my favorite (well, really, they're ALL my favorite) staff kids playing down in the sand. Blaze, 7, and Isaiah, 5, were constructing a HUGE structure that can only be considered a sand fortress. It had a big ole wall with towers every few inches, a giant hole in the middle with an island and a "flag" (read: long piece of dead dune grass), and the hole had an island in the middle. I asked Blaze if he wanted to fill in the area around the island and make it like a lake, but he said that it actually wasn't an island, but a mountain coming out of a valley. They put me to work smoothing out the land and putting more towers on the interior of the fortress. Once I'd filled all of that in, we decided we wanted a lake outside the fortress. So Blaze and I set to work digging out a hole in which to pour bucketfuls of water while Isaiah outfitted the outer walls with smaller towers. I'm telling you, this thing was the most secure sandcastle in the entire world.
I taught Blaze how if you dig down far enough, you'll find water, and that's how you know that you can fill in your hole with water and it won't soak in. He thought this was so cool and wanted to dig a bunch of other holes, but I said that we should just focus on this one. We raced back and forth between our hole and the shore to get more water, giggling the whole time. No sooner had a turned my back to get more water when I heard a loud splash. Blaze had jumped into his little hole and his entire body filled it up. He had the BIGGEST grin on his face and I knew he was having so much fun. Isaiah was still working on his towers and shaking his head with a smile on his face, as if he was the older, wiser brother.
It was at this moment that I realized why playing with children was the cure for stress and sadness. Kids are still able to use their imaginations to see a world with no problems. They don't worry about the little things. For instance, I managed to get a lot of wet sand on my shorts, and when I mentioned this to Isaiah, he simply said, "It's okay! It's just sand! Put them in the laundry and your mom will wash them for you!" This made me laugh a LOT. Kids are just so funny, especially these two.
I wish my life now was as easy and carefree as it was when I was their age. Blaze's biggest worry this evening was the fact that the walls of our "lake" were caving in from the water in it. My biggest worry is paying for college. Isaiah's biggest worry was not having enough towers around the outside of the fortress. My biggest worry is never finding someone who will marry me. Getting a job after graduation. Figuring out how to keep my closest friends in my life while we get pulled in different directions. No comparison, eh?
I'm happy to say that for 1 hour and 7 minutes, I was able to forget everything that was on my mind and just build sandcastles. And even though I was running around and all over the place with those two, it was the most rested I've felt in a loooooooong time. Ironic, right? Never underestimate the power of time spent with children.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Isaiah 40:29
So I'm going to do something that I haven't really done with this blog yet...write entirely about myself.
Usually I try to disguise writing about myself by adding funny anecdotes or doing the post in a unique way, but today, I have no funny or uniqueness.
I am tired. And I have been tired for a long time. People that know me know that I am in no way a morning person. But some days I feel like I never really wake up. You know that feeling when you wake up but don't feel rested? Getting going is a little slow, and you feel foggy for a little while? There are days when I have that all day. Not really conducive to teaching Bible School and being wild and crazy, wouldn't ya say?
Somehow, God always knows when I need strength and He gives it to me right when I need it. 8:00am-9:45am is probably my most sleepy time of the day. For Tuesday through Friday, that means Staff Devotions and Bible School prep time. Some days I just walk around like I'm in a haze, trying to plan the lesson and organize materials and do all the other stuff. But God knows just when to give me that strength I need. The garage door goes up at 9:45, the kids are all waiting, and it's like He's pulled a switch on my energy. I have the strength to be wild and crazy, play games in line with the kids, sing and do motions during the song time, teach the lesson with patience and charisma, and, basically, act like I'm not tired. Only on God's strength. Certainly not my own.
There are still a few days where I don't feel energized during Bible School, but I know that those are the days where I have to trust the other teachers to carry the lesson or activity, which is something else that I have had to learn to do this summer. Two of my teachers are new staff members, and it's easy for me to hand the simpler stuff off to them (like the Bible verse or rules for a game) and take the lesson upon myself. But God is teaching me that there will be days when I simply can't do it all by myself and that I have to trust them to do just as good of a job.
"He gives strength to the weary and lends His power to the weak." (Isaiah 40:29).
And that's a promise. :)
Usually I try to disguise writing about myself by adding funny anecdotes or doing the post in a unique way, but today, I have no funny or uniqueness.
I am tired. And I have been tired for a long time. People that know me know that I am in no way a morning person. But some days I feel like I never really wake up. You know that feeling when you wake up but don't feel rested? Getting going is a little slow, and you feel foggy for a little while? There are days when I have that all day. Not really conducive to teaching Bible School and being wild and crazy, wouldn't ya say?
Somehow, God always knows when I need strength and He gives it to me right when I need it. 8:00am-9:45am is probably my most sleepy time of the day. For Tuesday through Friday, that means Staff Devotions and Bible School prep time. Some days I just walk around like I'm in a haze, trying to plan the lesson and organize materials and do all the other stuff. But God knows just when to give me that strength I need. The garage door goes up at 9:45, the kids are all waiting, and it's like He's pulled a switch on my energy. I have the strength to be wild and crazy, play games in line with the kids, sing and do motions during the song time, teach the lesson with patience and charisma, and, basically, act like I'm not tired. Only on God's strength. Certainly not my own.
There are still a few days where I don't feel energized during Bible School, but I know that those are the days where I have to trust the other teachers to carry the lesson or activity, which is something else that I have had to learn to do this summer. Two of my teachers are new staff members, and it's easy for me to hand the simpler stuff off to them (like the Bible verse or rules for a game) and take the lesson upon myself. But God is teaching me that there will be days when I simply can't do it all by myself and that I have to trust them to do just as good of a job.
"He gives strength to the weary and lends His power to the weak." (Isaiah 40:29).
And that's a promise. :)
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Twins in a Kiddie Pool - A Three Word Sentence Story
(Internet issues prevented me from posting this yesterday, so bear with it)
Woke at 8:30.
Cottage cleaning today.
But first: breakfast.
Toast and Pop-Tart.
Strolled to Store.
Need iPod dock.
We sing always.
Makes cottages better.
Normally, takes forever.
Today, went fast!
Only 3.5 hours!
Did victory dances.
Now, free time.
On a Saturday?!
No me digas!!
Put on swimsuit.
Anticipating empty pool.
No such luck.
But, no problem.
Scored comfy lounge.
Sun so hot.
Submerged self often.
Later, Jessica arrived.
Twins in tow.
(Brenda's cute grandsons).
Nikki came also.
Jessica brought noodle.
Rips it apart.
Half to each.
Splashing and slapping.
Screaming and smiling.
"I'm gonna getchu!"
Twins try escaping.
All while grinning.
Time well spent.
Work beckons (again).
Gather my things.
Glasses thought lost?
Esther finds, retrieves.
Andrea is grateful.
Otherwise, can't see.
Time to work.
Scoop, scoop, scoop.
Restock, refill, replace.
Plating many pies.
Much easier distribution.
Clearly, hottest commodity.
Dinner rolls around.
Offering two plates:
BBQ or Brat?
Three side choices:
PotatoSalad, pasta, beans?
All is delicious.
Normally, HUGE rush.
Less rush tonight.
Is somewhat unsettling.
Break for dinner.
Come back prepared.
Campground needs dessert.
Scooped past 10:15.
Used 300+ cones.
New record? Maybe.
Great revenue generated.
We're professional scoopers.
Don't mess. Dig?
Woke at 8:30.
Cottage cleaning today.
But first: breakfast.
Toast and Pop-Tart.
Strolled to Store.
Need iPod dock.
We sing always.
Makes cottages better.
Normally, takes forever.
Today, went fast!
Only 3.5 hours!
Did victory dances.
Now, free time.
On a Saturday?!
No me digas!!
Put on swimsuit.
Anticipating empty pool.
No such luck.
But, no problem.
Scored comfy lounge.
Sun so hot.
Submerged self often.
Later, Jessica arrived.
Twins in tow.
(Brenda's cute grandsons).
Nikki came also.
Jessica brought noodle.
Rips it apart.
Half to each.
Splashing and slapping.
Screaming and smiling.
"I'm gonna getchu!"
Twins try escaping.
All while grinning.
Time well spent.
Work beckons (again).
Gather my things.
Glasses thought lost?
Esther finds, retrieves.
Andrea is grateful.
Otherwise, can't see.
Time to work.
Scoop, scoop, scoop.
Restock, refill, replace.
Plating many pies.
Much easier distribution.
Clearly, hottest commodity.
Dinner rolls around.
Offering two plates:
BBQ or Brat?
Three side choices:
PotatoSalad, pasta, beans?
All is delicious.
Normally, HUGE rush.
Less rush tonight.
Is somewhat unsettling.
Break for dinner.
Come back prepared.
Campground needs dessert.
Scooped past 10:15.
Used 300+ cones.
New record? Maybe.
Great revenue generated.
We're professional scoopers.
Don't mess. Dig?
Friday, July 8, 2011
A Kiddie-Sized Dairy-Free Gluten-Free Raspberry Sorbet Miracle
I have a story for you.
This week, there is a little guy named Joey who is allergic to gluten and dairy. On their own, even one of these allergies makes one's life so much more difficult. Constantly checking labels, getting sick from even the smallest contact with the allergen, being deprived of so many great foods...and then put them both together. For Joey, all of the ice cream flavors are out, most of the novelties have dairy and/or gluten, almost all of the grill choices are off-limits, and he can't eat probably 90% of the candy. What's a kid to do?! Joey's allergies are so intense that he can't eat ANYTHING that has even come into contact with dairy or gluten, even if the item itself doesn't contain those things. It would be like one of us scooping an ice cream cone, rinsing our hands, and then handing him an apple. He wouldn't be able to eat it because of the most trace amounts of dairy that COULD be on our hands.
Enter dairy-free, gluten-free Raspberry Sorbet.
After carefully reading the label on a tub of Raspberry Sorbet, Joey's mom concluded that he could eat it. But here's what had to happen first:
1. Luckily, we were at the bottom of one container of sorbet and it was no big deal for us to open an entirely new tub, one that could not have been contaminated with dairy (even though we rinse our scoops between every flavor, even in 2-flavor doubles, Joey couldn't risk there being any trace amount of dairy or gluten).
2. The person scooping had to wash their hands extra-well.
3. The raspberry sorbet had to be scooped into bowls away from the general ice cream area of the store.
4. The bowls had to be placed in a styrofoam take-out box, which was then wrapped and twist-tied shut in a plastic bag.
5. The plastic-wrapped boxes were then stored in the backroom freezer, away from containers of ice cream that had already been opened.
6. Before retrieving a bowl of sorbet, the store worker had to wash their hands and remove the entire plastic-wrapped box from the ice cream area.
7. Before putting the box away, it had to be sealed tightly in the styrofoam and bag, and the person had to wash their hands again.
Can you imagine having to go through all this just for some ice cream?! And as a 6-year-old?! It kind of blows my mind. Anyway, so many things came together all at the right time for us to get those sorbets for Joey. One person prepared all of them at the same time in order to minimize the risk of contamination. It was a miracle that we were at the bottom of a container so that we could open the new for Joey (and that we even had a new one available in the first place, since sorbet is one of our lowest-selling flavors). It was a God-thing that one of our staff-members had to start a gluten-free diet and decided that sorbet would be a good alternative for the store; without that decision, we would have had no ice cream options for Joey. All of those things came together for him this week.
Even though we get many customers that complain and frustrate us, this makes it all worth it. We were more than happy to make this happen for him, and his mom could hardly believe that we were so willing. How many other ice cream stores would go so out of their way for just one customer? Not many, I can tell you that much.
This is what it's all about.
This week, there is a little guy named Joey who is allergic to gluten and dairy. On their own, even one of these allergies makes one's life so much more difficult. Constantly checking labels, getting sick from even the smallest contact with the allergen, being deprived of so many great foods...and then put them both together. For Joey, all of the ice cream flavors are out, most of the novelties have dairy and/or gluten, almost all of the grill choices are off-limits, and he can't eat probably 90% of the candy. What's a kid to do?! Joey's allergies are so intense that he can't eat ANYTHING that has even come into contact with dairy or gluten, even if the item itself doesn't contain those things. It would be like one of us scooping an ice cream cone, rinsing our hands, and then handing him an apple. He wouldn't be able to eat it because of the most trace amounts of dairy that COULD be on our hands.
Enter dairy-free, gluten-free Raspberry Sorbet.
After carefully reading the label on a tub of Raspberry Sorbet, Joey's mom concluded that he could eat it. But here's what had to happen first:
1. Luckily, we were at the bottom of one container of sorbet and it was no big deal for us to open an entirely new tub, one that could not have been contaminated with dairy (even though we rinse our scoops between every flavor, even in 2-flavor doubles, Joey couldn't risk there being any trace amount of dairy or gluten).
2. The person scooping had to wash their hands extra-well.
3. The raspberry sorbet had to be scooped into bowls away from the general ice cream area of the store.
4. The bowls had to be placed in a styrofoam take-out box, which was then wrapped and twist-tied shut in a plastic bag.
5. The plastic-wrapped boxes were then stored in the backroom freezer, away from containers of ice cream that had already been opened.
6. Before retrieving a bowl of sorbet, the store worker had to wash their hands and remove the entire plastic-wrapped box from the ice cream area.
7. Before putting the box away, it had to be sealed tightly in the styrofoam and bag, and the person had to wash their hands again.
Can you imagine having to go through all this just for some ice cream?! And as a 6-year-old?! It kind of blows my mind. Anyway, so many things came together all at the right time for us to get those sorbets for Joey. One person prepared all of them at the same time in order to minimize the risk of contamination. It was a miracle that we were at the bottom of a container so that we could open the new for Joey (and that we even had a new one available in the first place, since sorbet is one of our lowest-selling flavors). It was a God-thing that one of our staff-members had to start a gluten-free diet and decided that sorbet would be a good alternative for the store; without that decision, we would have had no ice cream options for Joey. All of those things came together for him this week.
Even though we get many customers that complain and frustrate us, this makes it all worth it. We were more than happy to make this happen for him, and his mom could hardly believe that we were so willing. How many other ice cream stores would go so out of their way for just one customer? Not many, I can tell you that much.
This is what it's all about.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Valió la Pena: Parte II
What a beautiful day.
1. Rachel and I have been reunited. Her family is camping here and she scared the CRAP out of me today. I was vacuuming one of the rugs in the store, mostly bored, when all of a sudden BAM!! Rachel literally bursts into the store (the door almost came off its hinges) and screams. I scream, drop the vacuum (still running) and we hug like there's no tomorrow. Seriously, it lasted at least a minute. I was so excited to see her. I had been looking forward to this for about a week and it was just so awesome!! Anyway, we caught up for a little bit, hugged about four more times, did some more screaming, and then she left. Best part of this little story? Jana is coming out tomorrow to visit us and we are hanging out the whole day!! Spain/Paris/Rome reunion! Such a great end to an otherwise terrible and stressful week. :)
2. Two Hispanic families came into the store today for ice cream and I got to help them in Spanish! James took one family whose son spoke English, and I took the other. This is how the original conversation went:
Man: "Ice cream?"
Me: "Yes, would you all like some ice cream?"
Man: "Ice cream."
Me: "What kind would you like?"
Man:"....Ice cream."
Then some rapid-fire Spanish happened between the man and his daughter, who said, "Ice cream cones?" That's when I knew we'd get farther with Spanish. :) I helped them figure out what flavor they wanted (luckily, I didn't have to worry over describing Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Bear Hug, or some of our other somewhat outrageous flavors) and they decided on vanilla and strawberry. I was so excited to be able to help them and once I stopped using the vosotros (I only slipped up twice on that one), they were very happy to have a Spanish speaker helping them out. Once all the ice cream was squared away, the man asked me to teach him some of the words he needed to know about ice cream (ice cream, cone, bowl, vanilla, strawberry, 1 and 2 scoops, etc).
I was so impressed by this. I don't know how much he'll remember, but his wife wrote them down with help from the boy from the other family and he promised he'd study them. I think that a lot of Americans have the impression that Hispanic immigrants are freeloaders and are only here so that they can take advantage of the system and just live in their Spanish-speaking communities without making an effort to learn English. But I can tell you right here and now that even if some immigrants are like that, many are not. This man and his family are trying to learn English, even if it's only a few words at a time. We need to have patience with them.
Why should we have patience with them? Because I've been on the other side. I know what it's like to stumble through trying to order something in a restaurant or trying to ask for help in another language. And because those people were patient with me, I'm going to return that favor to someone else who is learning my language.
3. This one is smaller: one of the families that I've known for several years came in for ice cream tonight accompanied by a Spanish student that is living with them. I found out that she's from Madrid but then they got their ice cream and had to leave to make room for more customers. I hope that maybe I can talk to her again while they're here.
Three more reasons that made Spain worth it.
And here's a funny story: I had a dream that I didn't get any credit for my semester in Spain and that they were forcing me to go back. So actually, kind of a nightmare. Haha. Anyway, Ge (one of our Spanish profs) made an appearance in my dream, except that she was speaking English. That was totally wild, because the real-life Ge doesn't speak a WORD of English. Dream-Ge said that she was only pretending to not speak English so that our Spanish would get better. Only in a dream. :)
1. Rachel and I have been reunited. Her family is camping here and she scared the CRAP out of me today. I was vacuuming one of the rugs in the store, mostly bored, when all of a sudden BAM!! Rachel literally bursts into the store (the door almost came off its hinges) and screams. I scream, drop the vacuum (still running) and we hug like there's no tomorrow. Seriously, it lasted at least a minute. I was so excited to see her. I had been looking forward to this for about a week and it was just so awesome!! Anyway, we caught up for a little bit, hugged about four more times, did some more screaming, and then she left. Best part of this little story? Jana is coming out tomorrow to visit us and we are hanging out the whole day!! Spain/Paris/Rome reunion! Such a great end to an otherwise terrible and stressful week. :)
2. Two Hispanic families came into the store today for ice cream and I got to help them in Spanish! James took one family whose son spoke English, and I took the other. This is how the original conversation went:
Man: "Ice cream?"
Me: "Yes, would you all like some ice cream?"
Man: "Ice cream."
Me: "What kind would you like?"
Man:"....Ice cream."
Then some rapid-fire Spanish happened between the man and his daughter, who said, "Ice cream cones?" That's when I knew we'd get farther with Spanish. :) I helped them figure out what flavor they wanted (luckily, I didn't have to worry over describing Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough, Bear Hug, or some of our other somewhat outrageous flavors) and they decided on vanilla and strawberry. I was so excited to be able to help them and once I stopped using the vosotros (I only slipped up twice on that one), they were very happy to have a Spanish speaker helping them out. Once all the ice cream was squared away, the man asked me to teach him some of the words he needed to know about ice cream (ice cream, cone, bowl, vanilla, strawberry, 1 and 2 scoops, etc).
I was so impressed by this. I don't know how much he'll remember, but his wife wrote them down with help from the boy from the other family and he promised he'd study them. I think that a lot of Americans have the impression that Hispanic immigrants are freeloaders and are only here so that they can take advantage of the system and just live in their Spanish-speaking communities without making an effort to learn English. But I can tell you right here and now that even if some immigrants are like that, many are not. This man and his family are trying to learn English, even if it's only a few words at a time. We need to have patience with them.
Why should we have patience with them? Because I've been on the other side. I know what it's like to stumble through trying to order something in a restaurant or trying to ask for help in another language. And because those people were patient with me, I'm going to return that favor to someone else who is learning my language.
3. This one is smaller: one of the families that I've known for several years came in for ice cream tonight accompanied by a Spanish student that is living with them. I found out that she's from Madrid but then they got their ice cream and had to leave to make room for more customers. I hope that maybe I can talk to her again while they're here.
Three more reasons that made Spain worth it.
And here's a funny story: I had a dream that I didn't get any credit for my semester in Spain and that they were forcing me to go back. So actually, kind of a nightmare. Haha. Anyway, Ge (one of our Spanish profs) made an appearance in my dream, except that she was speaking English. That was totally wild, because the real-life Ge doesn't speak a WORD of English. Dream-Ge said that she was only pretending to not speak English so that our Spanish would get better. Only in a dream. :)
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Top 8: Things I Have Witnessed Today
- Children throwing tantrums. Times about one billion.
- Two 4-year-olds holding hands and swinging them back and forth.
- Same two 4-year-olds walking down the aisle in the auditorium to craft time during Bible School.
- Distracted child on bike plowing into tyke on tricycle. General mayhem and tears.
- Two humongous bees going at it in the janky sideyard.
- At least fourteen people trooping up to the beach with all their stuff packed sky-high onto one tiny wagon.
- Child dropping entire blue (the flavor that makes the most resilient stain) sno-cone on the floor of the store. Twice.
- "Jamie" Eugene Los in a frilly yellow party dress, pink boa, and blond wig.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Save a Place for Me
Jessica and I did a duet tonight in church (she on piano, I on guitar) and we sang this song. I'll just let the lyrics do the speaking tonight.
Don't be mad if I cry
It just hurts so bad sometimes
'Cause everyday it's sinking in
And I have to say goodbye all over again
You know I bet it feels good to have the weight of this world off your shoulders now
I'm dreaming of the day when I'm finally there with you
Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
I have asked the questions why
But I guess the answers for another time
So instead I pray with every tear
And be thankful for the time I had you here
Don't be mad if I cry
It just hurts so bad sometimes
'Cause everyday it's sinking in
And I have to say goodbye all over again
You know I bet it feels good to have the weight of this world off your shoulders now
I'm dreaming of the day when I'm finally there with you
Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
I have asked the questions why
But I guess the answers for another time
So instead I pray with every tear
And be thankful for the time I had you here
Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
I wanna live my life Just like you did
Make the most of my time Just like you did
And I want to make my home up in the sky Just like you did
Oh, but until I get there...
Until I get there, you just
Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
I wanna live my life Just like you did
Make the most of my time Just like you did
And I want to make my home up in the sky Just like you did
Oh, but until I get there...
Until I get there, you just
Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon...
I'll be there soon.
Friday, June 24, 2011
"And the breastplate of righteousness in place..."
Any guesses on what our item of spiritual armor is this week in Bible School? :)
This week, our kids had a bit of trouble understanding what righteousness actually is (it didn't help that they were CRAZYTOWN and all over the place) so toward the end of the week, we focused more on the fact that God gives us a metaphorical breastplate in order to protect us. We talked about how God protects us spiritually earlier in the week and how He helps us to do the right thing and be an example to other people earlier in the week. Today, we talked about how God protects our hearts from the things that scare us or things that we are having a hard time with.
Kids carry around more burdens than what we give them credit for, I think. They seem so carefree and innocent, but they have things that weigh on their minds too. It's harder for them, though, because they don't always understand that these bad things are no one's fault (most of the time). They take so much responsibility onto themselves and along with it, blame.
This is a conversation I had with a 4th grader in my class last year. His parents were splitting up and his dad wasn't even trying to get custody of him and his brother.
Me: "Cameron, what's wrong?"
Cameron: "My mom just told me that she and my dad aren't going to married anymore and that he's moving far away."
Me: "Aw Cameron, that's really sad. Did your mom tell you where your dad is moving to? You'll still get to see him, right?"
Cameron: "No. He's moving away because he doesn't love me or Jackson anymore."
Me: "I'm sure that's not true. Is that what he said to you?"
Cameron: "No, but why else would he want to move away?"
While we were planning today's lesson, I was struck by a God-bolt of inspiration. We cut out two vaguely breastplate-shaped pieces of poster board, split our class into girls and boys, and then we handed out post-it notes and markers to each person. We asked them to write down something that scares them, or that they are having a hard time with, or something they're anxious about, or something that their family is worried about right now.
"I'm afraid my grandma might die soon."
"My dad lost his job this year."
"My uncle lives in Texas."
"I have to move to a new school."
"My grandpa had back surgery."
"My teacher won't be at my school next year."
"My family went to the house across the street without me." (We couldn't figure out exactly what this one meant. It could be that they went to visit the people across the street, but it's also possible that the family split up or had to get foster care involved).
Then, we had each kid put their post-it on the breastplate. I told my girls that even though all of these things seem really big and really scary right now while they're happening, God has always and will always bring them through safely to the other side of the situation. I wrote "God protects me and loves me" in big letters over all the post-its on the breastplate to show that no matter what happens, God's breastplate of righteousness will always protect our hearts and that He is always looking out for us.
At the beginning of the summer, I was seriously considering switching to the 4s-5s-Kindergartners class, just for a change of pace. I've done 3rd-4th for the last two summers and I thought it would be interesting to work with the little kids that we get.
I'm really glad I didn't switch. :)
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