Just Look Inside

It's NO secret (Victoria's or otherwise) that before every Tuesday NIGHT women's Bible study comes a TuesDAY, filled with speed bumps, potholes, construction sites, and various detours in the daily routines of life that do an oh-so-good job of alluring me away from the simple reminder to acknowledge that "this is the day the LORD has made; therefore, I will REJOICE and be GLAD in it."


Aaaand  it all started something like this...
Today was markedly a strange day for me, no doubt.

To start, when I woke up this morning, I had that “gut” feeling that I was going to be ill-prepared for the school day. [If you’re a teacher, you may very well know EXACTLY what feeling I’m talking about.] No amount of planning (or worrying) or effort on your own can ever fully prepare you for some of the things life hands you throughout the school day. [Thankfully, as Christians, we know it’s GOD who hands us each-and-every momentous event of our day…. And it’s only WITH Him and THROUGH Him we can accomplish all things.] However, even with all of that in my mind, I still had this feeling…..

Thankfully, not everything is always as it feels.

Once at school and after quickly proceeding through early morning devotions and a jumble of announcements-for-the-day, I tuned in to this morning’s faculty meeting long enough to hear my principal quote these words, “Nothing is normal anymore.” Though I knew he was referring (in context) to the regularly-scheduled events of the school days no longer being on track (because it is the last week of school for the kiddos), I readily took a light-hearted laughter to this statement and instantaneously made it my mantra-of-the-day…..

Thankfully, not everything is always as it sounds.

Shortly after leaving morning devotions, I walked back to my classroom to find a super small Victoria’s Secret bag on my desk. That’s right: I’m not making this stuff up, kids. As soon as I saw it (and after honestly wondering who in the WORLD was gifting me with lingerie), I quickly recalled my mantra-of-the-day, “Nothing is normal anymore.” Just then, my student popped his head in and had me open the “gift” he left on my desk…..

Thankfully, not everything is always as it appears (or is wrapped). (Whew!)

Mid-way through my morning, something started to go downhill. FAST. And by “something,” I mean the air quality in my classroom. For some reason, my room began to smell SUPER funky. And I couldn’t even put my finger on what it was (literally AND thankfully). Was it….throw-up? Dirty socks? Wet shoes? Rotten eggs? Non-deodorized fourth-graders? I had no clue, honestly. All I knew is this: IT WAS RANK. None of the students had said anything, and the smell was coming only from near my desk (ahem, where a student’s book bag was chilling out); so before lunch, I simply Febreezed the mess ‘outta my classroom and let it rest.

Thankfully (or maybe not-so-thankfully, in this case), not everything is always better-left-alone.

When I returned from lunchtime with all my kiddos in tow, the smell inside my classroom could’ve easily killed an entire village of people. Easily. In fact, I think it was well on its way to doing so, because as soon as we turned the corner IN THE HALLWAY, the smell attacked my class. (We couldn’t even go into the classroom until the source of it was disposed of.)….

Thankfully, some things should be searched out.

THEN, once all the dust had settled from the events of our CRAZY morning together, my students began working on a rather lengthy graphing (a.k.a. glorified-coloring) assignment, and I turned on some piano music (some old-school hymns, of course!... love them!) softly in the background to calm us all down a notch-‘er-two. And what hymn do you suppose came on in-that-moment?  This one: “It is well with my soul.” When I heard it, I simply smiled. I knew that God Himself, despite (and in the midst of!) all the craziness of the day, was present with me in my classroom today (just as He always is). However, that extra-special reminder this afternoon was helpful. :)

All of those non-essential details and sillyness of my day combine to give you (...Captain Planet!)... Just kidding. They combine (in my mind) to provide this serious reminder:

When something is not as it feels,
When something is not as it sounds,
When something is not as it appears,
When something is not better-left-alone,
When something should be searched out,
JUST LOOK INSIDE.
Check your soul.
Is it well there?
And if (AND ONLY IF) it is, pause long enough to REJOICE and be GLAD in THAT.

Stick To It

Today, when I walked into my school classroom, there it was. Again. In the same spot it was several days before, and for several days in a row now. The realization was not quite fun, but the daily reminder was starting to get just sheer frustrating. And for that reason alone, it annoyed me and nudged me to move, to correct it, to make all things right in my little 4th grade classroom. What in the world am I talking about, might you ask. (?) A poster, that's what. A smallish poster containing a chart of the United States capitals, state birds, and state flowers. And where was it? On the floor. For what seemed like the fiftieth time. As I bent down this morning to re-stick this poster back on the wall. again. again. again. again. I looked at the back, saw all sorts of mounds and clusters of different kinds of tapes. Considered stapling the poster to the wall of the classroom. Saran wrapping it. Hot gluing it. Anything. Just doing something to make for sure that thing would stick to the wall and stop frustrating me oh-so-much.
But then. A strange idea occured to me. Does the poster have to be on the wall? No, the poster doesn't HAVE to be on the wall. Just because it always has been, doesn't mean it always has to be. Expecially since school is ending in two weeks. And the kids should know their state capitals by now. And. And. And.
Bottom line to this silly little daily frustration story is this: We do the same thing in our spiritual lives. We spend all sorts of mental, emotional, physical, etc. energy on trying things our own way. Though, many times and for many different reasons, our way "falls off the wall" so-to-speak. We try different venues. Maybe logical venues, such as "more" of this or "less" of this or a "different kind" of this. And pretty soon, our ideas just look and sound pretty ridiculous to everyone around us. Yet we justify. Let me tell you, we don't need more tape or staples to hold our plans together. We don't even need to waste our time, energy, and other resources to concoct crazy alternatives, such as saran wrap and hot glue to ensure our way works. What we sometimes (and most often) need is simply this: to take our plans and our thoughts of how things "should be" off the wall altogether. Just because we've always done it our way doesn't mean it should continue. And when we have the courage to take our posters of our plans off the wall, guess what? A space is cleared and primed for the setting of a Masterpeice.
Think about it.
And stick to that.

Finishing Well

This morning, I had the great opportunity and privilege to serve some of my little current and former students alike at their GOTR (Girls on the Run) 5K race. After check-in and about an hour helping little girls get all pretty-fied with hair clips, hair colors, GOTR tattoos, and GOTR stickers, I walked to the finish line to wait for the first little runner to cross. About 25 minutes or so after the beginning alarm rang, the first little girl came racing down the finish line shoot. As she did, I experienced something I never had encountered before. Roars, chants, screams, and cheers rang joyously from a crowd of people who were perfect strangers to this girl. On her precious little face, you could see the weariness, the sweat, and the determination. As I stood there - simply amazed at the hype and the experience of it all - tears filled my eyes, and this verse's paraphrase popped into my mind:

 "Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith." - Hebrews 12:1,2a (NIV)
At the sight of the tears in my eyes, I'm sure the people around me probably thought I was crazy. (Either that, or just a very emotional mother of one of the dear little runners. haha) Either way, today, I caught a glimpse of what Heaven must be like.
Roars, chants, screams, and cheers ringing joyously from crowds of people who may be perfect strangers to you, yet see the weariness, sweat, and determination on your face. They know your struggles because they've been there themselves. But they also know this: the trials and weights of this world matter not. What matters is that you ran the race marked out for you with perseverance. And that you finish it well.
Today, throw off the weights that hinder you (whatever they may be).
Fix your eyes on Jesus (no matter what that may cost you).
Keep on running (in whatever task(s) it is you do) with all your little heart.
And when the time of your "finishing line" moment approaches, may your "cloud of witnesses" say you finished well.

MaMa, the Cupcake-Maker

Earlier this week, I realized that I did not have a Mother’s Day project for the kiddos to do, I searched frantically in my black hole of a teacher’s closet, found something quite cutesy that would work, and quickly sent off the master copies to be printed for all my little darlings. When I returned to the room with my fresh copies in hand, the students were all gone to one of their special subjects (music, p.e., art, etc.). All except one. Which one? The one that needed to be there. The one God placed there to prick my heart with the stark reality of his mere decade-long life. As this precious bright-eyed little boy stood before me, I stopped and thought to myself, “Eeeee. Now, this project wouldn’t be fair for (fill-in-the-blank). He isn’t allowed to see his mom.” What’s more unfair than a silly little project is the sobering reality of his life, reflected in the following dialogue that occurred several months ago when he transferred to my classroom mid-year:
FLASHBACK
Student: “You know what, Miss Hill? I didn’t even have a birthday this year. My mom forgot my birthday. My dad kept calling and calling her, and she said, ‘Yeah, yeah, I’ll plan his party.’ But then she spent all the money for my party on her drugs again. I didn’t even get a tenth birthday party.”
Me (Miss Hill): “Well, when was your birthday, sweetheart?”
Student: “November 28th.”
Me: “We can celebrate your half birthday…on May 28th…. In class. At lunchtime, maybe.”
Student (as face lights up into a grin): “REALLY?!? Can you make me cupcakes? Like the chocolate ones with chocolate icing?”
Me: “Sure. That’ll be easy to do. Sounds good!”
Student: “Thank you, Miss Hill. You’re like the best teacher to me. None of my other teachers at my old school did what like a mom would do.”
My thoughts? The boy’s life is a wreck. His momma is strung out on drugs. And all he requires are some chocolate cupcakes?
Cupcakes, really!?
The mind of a ten-year-old never ceases to amaze me.
Our conversation that day ended in a hug, but the ripple effects of that conversation have lingered with me for hours, days, weeks, and now months. My student took a portion of my heart that day with him onto the playground amidst the swings and monkey bars. Well, he didn’t take it, per say. I gave it to him. I feel like he needs it more than I do.
So, where does that leave us now?
FLASH FORWARD
On May 28th, one of my little ones will have twenty-four chocolate cupcakes with chocolate icing for his 10 ½ birthday celebration. Some for his classmates. Some for his teachers. And some for him to take home to remember the fun-filled day.
 But, as I thought about it, I judged his request for cupcakes far too hastily. Cupcakes aren’t such a minor thing after all. They are far more than just sugar and chocolate.
They’re evidence.
Evidence of a presence.
The presence of someone who cares.
While the sweetness of those extra chocolately cupcakes may temporarily satisfy, what boyfriend really needs is the sustaining and enduring sweetness of a Cupcake-Maker. In short, what he needs is a Mother. Or at least, evidence. Evidence of a presence. Of someone who cares. Thankfully, I get the privilege to fill in the blank of that part of his life for this year.
While I don’t know what it’s like to walk in the shoes of my student, I do know it must be painful. The cries of a child for the presence of cupcakes at school can’t even compare to the silence and the absence of a mother at a birthday party at home.
I readily recognize the role I am chosen to play in this child’s life, and I will probably remember it for as long as I live.
What’s more, I’m reminded of the one who was chosen to play an integral part in my life – my mother.
While I could spend tons of time listing and spelling out all the many fantastic qualities of my mother, this year, I realize it’s not so much about what my mother says, does, where she goes, what she wears, or how she acts and reacts that makes her special. Her presence speaks so much louder than her attributes. With that, I simply want to thank you, MaMa, for simply being.  Your presence alone has shaped me more than either of us will ever know. I will treasure you for as long as I live.

p.s.  Thank you, Mom, for all the cupcakes.