There are things I think are right. I have thought long and hard about them and came to a firm belief about them. These decisions have a lot to do with life experiences, important values and my education. I stand by them.
But I live in a world that doesn't have those same thoughts. Perhaps they don't have the same experiences, values or education. Either way, they don't agree with me. They don't even have the same mindset as me. Their point of view isn't even on the same planet as mine.
And I respect them. They are great people. On several other issues that are near and dear to my heart, we are on the same accord. I like having these people in my life.
But it's hard. How do I sit in a room during discussions of these important views, letting them assume I'm with them? How do I let them think their way of thinking is 100% correct when there's obviously another way of thinking? And how do I do this knowing that they won't even get it if I tried? Knowing the discussion would be futile?
is it even worth the breath?
but how do I live with myself having convictions that something is right and not even give a hint of how I feel?
I just hate this feeling.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Thursday, September 25, 2008
life
I'm morbid.
I just am.
Perhaps it was my brother's death 13 years ago, but I've always had a fascination for life and death and all things involved. I can't tell you how much thought I have put into my own funeral.
Today I went to another funeral. This one was for a stranger. I had never met her or seen her before. The most I knew of her was the obituary I read that morning. But she was the mother of one of my students, and our presence this morning meant a lot to that student.
And I was struck by this stranger. This woman who had lived life so abundantly. She was so full of life, even when struck with a tragic disease that eventually took her away. Even during the final stages of cancer, she exclaimed, "God has been so good to me!" The pictures during the opening slide show were full of smiles and laughter; adventure and fun. The words spoken of her were of her leadership, humility, service and grace. She was full of joy and loved to plan. She was an inspiration.
And my morbidity came to mind again, and I thought about how precious life was. But not in the typical "What if I die tomorrow?" sense, but the "What if I die at 46 from cancer?" sense... which is actually a bit different. If I die tomorrow, it's all about how I live today. But thinking about dying at 46 gives me a bigger picture of how I'm planning to live my life abundantly. Is my life an adventure?
Will my slideshow show me smiling, laughing and that I'm full of joy? Am I leaving a legacy for my children? Will I have a lifetime of leadership? As I'm growing, am I focusing on showing God's love through my joy?
John 10:10
I just am.
Perhaps it was my brother's death 13 years ago, but I've always had a fascination for life and death and all things involved. I can't tell you how much thought I have put into my own funeral.
Today I went to another funeral. This one was for a stranger. I had never met her or seen her before. The most I knew of her was the obituary I read that morning. But she was the mother of one of my students, and our presence this morning meant a lot to that student.
And I was struck by this stranger. This woman who had lived life so abundantly. She was so full of life, even when struck with a tragic disease that eventually took her away. Even during the final stages of cancer, she exclaimed, "God has been so good to me!" The pictures during the opening slide show were full of smiles and laughter; adventure and fun. The words spoken of her were of her leadership, humility, service and grace. She was full of joy and loved to plan. She was an inspiration.
And my morbidity came to mind again, and I thought about how precious life was. But not in the typical "What if I die tomorrow?" sense, but the "What if I die at 46 from cancer?" sense... which is actually a bit different. If I die tomorrow, it's all about how I live today. But thinking about dying at 46 gives me a bigger picture of how I'm planning to live my life abundantly. Is my life an adventure?
Will my slideshow show me smiling, laughing and that I'm full of joy? Am I leaving a legacy for my children? Will I have a lifetime of leadership? As I'm growing, am I focusing on showing God's love through my joy?
John 10:10
Saturday, September 13, 2008
2nd year
August 25, 2007
It was an exhilerating day. The entire day was such an adrenaline rush that it all seems like a blur. The only thing I remember clearly from that day is the overwhelming peace; I was born for this moment. It was the first day of my first year of teaching. Ever since then, even with all the ups and downs and broken hearts, shed tears and shaken fists, late nights and early mornings, meetings, conferences, failed students, failed lessons, legislation torture and reprimands, the entire first year was a privilege. At the core, I loved what I was doing and I was honored to do it. I had never felt such pride and excitement.
August 27, 2008
The day was long and drawn out. I was in a down mood all week. The week before, I had actually contemplated what it would be like to quit. I was wore out and wore down. The excitement and thrill of the first year wore off and the rose-colored glasses were no longer being worn. I was bitter and tired. While my mood has improved from the pre-school year training, I still don't have the same enthusiasm I used to. I don't have the same conviction that this was what I was born to do. I have started looking past the classroom to where my Master's degree could take me. My kids don't seem as sweet, as smart, as awesome. My days don't seem so meaningful, but more exhausting. I can never seem to stay ahead or even caught up. My lessons don't have the same flavor they once had.
I pray that God changes my heart and gives me the same peace I had last year. I was the same since of conviction and calling. I want the same desire and enthusiasm. I know I will never have the same amount of energy I had my first year - it was a rare thing. I will never have a first year again. But I do still want that love for teaching I once had. And as a disclaimer, I don't hate my job. I still enjoy it, but compared to last year, it's nowhere close. It's more exhausting and less rewarding than before and it's so disappointing. What a difference a year makes.
It was an exhilerating day. The entire day was such an adrenaline rush that it all seems like a blur. The only thing I remember clearly from that day is the overwhelming peace; I was born for this moment. It was the first day of my first year of teaching. Ever since then, even with all the ups and downs and broken hearts, shed tears and shaken fists, late nights and early mornings, meetings, conferences, failed students, failed lessons, legislation torture and reprimands, the entire first year was a privilege. At the core, I loved what I was doing and I was honored to do it. I had never felt such pride and excitement.
August 27, 2008
The day was long and drawn out. I was in a down mood all week. The week before, I had actually contemplated what it would be like to quit. I was wore out and wore down. The excitement and thrill of the first year wore off and the rose-colored glasses were no longer being worn. I was bitter and tired. While my mood has improved from the pre-school year training, I still don't have the same enthusiasm I used to. I don't have the same conviction that this was what I was born to do. I have started looking past the classroom to where my Master's degree could take me. My kids don't seem as sweet, as smart, as awesome. My days don't seem so meaningful, but more exhausting. I can never seem to stay ahead or even caught up. My lessons don't have the same flavor they once had.
I pray that God changes my heart and gives me the same peace I had last year. I was the same since of conviction and calling. I want the same desire and enthusiasm. I know I will never have the same amount of energy I had my first year - it was a rare thing. I will never have a first year again. But I do still want that love for teaching I once had. And as a disclaimer, I don't hate my job. I still enjoy it, but compared to last year, it's nowhere close. It's more exhausting and less rewarding than before and it's so disappointing. What a difference a year makes.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
wait for it...
Oh geez - so much has happened. I apologize, but school really kicked in gear around the time of my last post and it has consumed my life ever since. Then my AC adapter went kaput for a couple weeks, and while I'm used to living without a home computer by now, it's never fun.
So let me just apologize for the delay. I promise I have much to say (rhyming unintented).
And I will get to it soon, but not tonight. If I haven't updated by week's end, email me and remind me of my word. Perhaps Friday, I'll want a break from cleaning the apt and I'll post some of the crazy thoughts that are constantly swirling in my head...
til then - stay classy, San Diego
So let me just apologize for the delay. I promise I have much to say (rhyming unintented).
And I will get to it soon, but not tonight. If I haven't updated by week's end, email me and remind me of my word. Perhaps Friday, I'll want a break from cleaning the apt and I'll post some of the crazy thoughts that are constantly swirling in my head...
til then - stay classy, San Diego
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