The Pow Wow

If you've ever read me before, you know by now that I am a high school Spanish teacher and a Student Council Advisor.  I LOVE teaching.  I love the a-ha moments when a kid finally gets it, I love it when they answer their own questions.  I love playing and speaking and listening and being with these students.  And I'm tough.  I have high expectations, and I don't back down from them.  I show grace, but also accountability.  And usually, my students rise to the occasion.

The real reason I love teaching though, is that I love my kids. 

I do.

I just love them. 

Some of them are in desperate need of that, you know.

Every so often I hold a pow-wow.  We turn the flourescent lights off, gather up in a circle, put on some mellow music, and talk about life.  Stories range from the mundane to the silly to upcoming events and athletic tryouts.... and then someone shares something big.  My parents are getting a divorce.  My dad has been deployed for a year and is coming home this weekend, and I'm scared of how things will change.  My mom has cancer.  My friends are into drugs and alcohol, and it's hard for me to stay away from it. 

The atmosphere in the room completely changes.  There's a spirit of love that flows out from each student, almost immediately.  They begin comforting each other, sharing stories of how they've dealt with similar circumstances, giving advice. 

Don't get me wrong - someone always throws in a funny story or two in the midst of the serious that sets us all to laughing hysterically - it's not a depressing pow-wow. 

When the pow-wow is nearing it's natural end (be it a feeling or the end of class approaching), I insist we end on a positive note.  Each person shares something they love about their life, and the smiles and laughter finish out the pow-wow.  They hug each other and walk out of the room feeling connected and cared for, some of them for the first time in a while. 

I love pow-wow.

What most impresses me is that I never lead them to share deeply.  Given the opportunity to do so, they just do.  I don't tell them, hey, encourage him, hug her.  They just do it.  I don't prompt them to share their similar stories and make supportive connections.  They just do.  They are dying to be loved, to know that others care, and to show that they care, too.

Some teachers would say pow-wow is an irresponsible use of my time.  I say not.  I'm teaching them to be people, not just to conjugate verbs.  In 10 years, they won't remember half of anything from my class, but maybe they'll remember what it felt like to be heard, to listen to others, to show and be shown love. 

And maybe they'll do the same for someone else.

The day of a recent pow-wow, a boy (a cool, tough, basketball playing, has-it-all-together boy) came to class with a class-transfer paper.  He'd switched in at semester and, after a couple of weeks, decided it was too hard for him and was going to switch to an easier teacher.  At the end of the class period, after sharing and listening, he looked at me and simply said, "I'm staying."  The next class day he walked in with his transfer paper, tore it up, and threw it away.  He had experienced pow-wow. And love.

Now, I'm not saying I am wonderful, or that I'm doing anything special or worthy of praise.

What I am saying is that I love teaching.  I work with kids who, although they are punky little pains sometimes, have a lot more to them then I'd know if we didn't pow-wow. 

And they are full of love, ready to give it, if someone just would show them how.


Joining in on the conversation "Love is a Verb" over at InCourage. 

The Fork in the Road

Truth time.

I cannot have my heart healed if I am not even in conversation with the One.

I cannot have my relationship with Husband grow if I am not in Relationship with the One.

I cannot feel like I'm living with purpose if my purpose is not rooted in my Relationship.

I can sit in church on the very few Sundays I convince myself I have to go and cry in the back because I am alone and pray that God will heal me or release me, but nothing will happen if I am not even in conversation with Him.

I can think about how my relationship with my Husband could be improved and how he can and should grow, but nothing will matter if I do not have first and foremost my Relationship with the One as a priority.

I can feel sorry for myself about how I feel like I have no people and define my worth based on the number of people who call me to do something, initiate conversations with me, post on my Facebook wall, or comment on my blog.  In that case, I'm going to feel rather worthless.

I can invest my time and energy and care and love into my students.  A good thing, except that I tend to make a good thing the ultimate thing, and when I have time to sit and breathe, I realize that while that is rewarding and fulfilling, it is not Enough.

It is time to make a decision.

I'm here.

Or here, just for a laugh. (because I can't be serious all of the time)

Where will I go? 

I know what I need to choose. 

I want to choose it, too. 

But I am weak, and easily sidetracked. 

Still, the time has come.

A Weekend Wish

My head and heart are full as I quickly sit down to write this morning before I head off to work.

Yesterday was a big day.  We had the privilege of having director Tom Shadyac and several of the prodcuers of his film "I AM" come to our Student Council class when we combined with one of my co-workers classes to see one of her incredible lessons on people and genocide and what each of us can do in other's lives.  Then last night I attended the only high school screening of the film.  You know who he is, right?   The guy who directed Bruce Almighty, Liar Liar, Ace Ventura, The Nutty Professor..... To sum it up, Tom had a near death experience and realized there was something wrong with the picture he was living in, and set off with film crew to ask today's most prominent minds in science, philosophy, and religion two questions "What is wrong with the world?" and "What can we do about it?"  The film chronicles his journey and his findings, and, full of sciency stuff that was actually really interesting, resulted in these thoughts: People are meant to be connected and compassionate.  What's wrong with the world?  I am.  What can we do about it?  Believe in the power of one.  Desmond Tutu in the film says that we are all just drops of water that when put together, form the sea.  Small acts of compassion and connectedness can lead to big things.

Wow.  Yes, Tom Shadyac.  I am with you.  **

Today I leave for our Student Council Retreat.  These, by the way, are my kids.  They are incredible.

And somehow I planned a retreat that basically Tom Shadyac just kicked off for us.  Somehow makes sense, I guess, since these ideas are essential in good leaders.  We're going to be talking about how leaders have to be committed to take the road less traveled sometimes, how we have to know ourselves and be confident in ourselves to be able to take that road.  We'll learn about needing heart and logic as leaders (which the science showed in the movie to be true), and talk about the distractions that meet us on the way.  Lastly we'll talk about how the small things can make all the difference, especially if you have a team of people on your side.

I'm excited.  I'm tired and it hasn't even started yet.  I didn't make it to bed before 11 any night this week, and I didn't even come home until after 10 the last two nights (yes, I was at school from 6:30 am to at least 10 pm).  But I love these things, and I am continuously affirmed that working with these kids is what God wants me to do.  See, I can't talk to them about God, but I can teach them indirectly. I can teach them to do life well and model for them what I really mean, and hope that somehow the seed is planted.  And I can have fun doing it!

Pray for us this weekend, if you get the chance.  My mind is turning the ideas of the film and the retreat around and around and loving some and getting stuck on some - knowing that, fearing that some kids (and some adults) will miss the Reason we're all connected and need to show compassion and love one another.  Still, I believe in the concepts, and my reason doesn't have to be made public there, it just needs to show in my actions.

May your Friday and weekend be thoughtfillled and blessed.

** Disclaimer** There were several scientific concepts that I want to do more research on, because they didn't seem contradictory to anything I believe in, but without furthure information, I couldn't be sure.  I'll be interested to hear your thoughts if you get to see the movie when it comes to theaters soon.

Coffee Company and More

Starbucks Caramel Macciato in hand (it's what I drink in the off-season of the Gingerbread Latte when I still have gift-card money left over from Christmas), I am ready to blog.  I have a lot of stuff in my head and in my heart, which means inevitably this will be a post full of randoms.  Ready?

This week has been full. 

We're back in the swing of things at school, and I'm really trying hard to stay on top of things (and already falling behind), but also to make sure that the way I'm teaching is better. 

I haven't been sleeping that well, mostly to the fact that Husband has been working nights and crawls into bed at about 4, right before I get up at about 5:15, and the weird dreams I've been having.  Last night's was an odd mixture of mostly good, kind of weird, and a little unsettling, but.... I re-wrote the ending to make it all good in my head.

Last week I heard that a former youth group kid of ours, Brad, who had a muscular condition that affected his respiratory system and more, was in the hospital and things weren't looking great.  Wednesday we heard first that they'd removed the breathing tubes and, shortly thereafter, Brad went to be with his Jesus.  Both my good friend Dawn and I posted for him, if you'd care to read.  The service will be Tuesday, and I expect it to be just as much a celebration as anything, since Brad is finally healed.

Husband goes away with the youth group today for the long weekend for our annual retreat.  (A few years ago this retreat was one where we had some of our favorite memories with Brad.)  It's the first time in seven years I won't be going, but because I have offiically stepped down as a leader at this point (you know, I was trying to create some balance in my life), it makes sense that I am not included.  I cried, and let's just be honest: I'm going to have to pray that God will remove my feelings of jealousy.  A few weeks ago I was on the phone with my friend Brooke telling her about how disappointed I was and how, to top it all off, it meant that I would be home alone for three nights and almost four days.  Joking, I suggested she drive up from Texas for a visit.

A few days later she called to say she was coming!  I expect to get a text sometime this morning to say she's on the road and then, this evening, she'll be here!  Brooke is my best friend from college.  We haven't lived in the same place for 6 and half years, but she's just one of those friends, you know?  It's going to be great, and I think I probably won't remember that I'm missing the retreat.

I was just reading Rachel Anne's Small Thing about Starting Over.  I love how each morning it can be as if God gives us a Restart button.  What happened yesterday is gone, and today is a new day.  I'm a fairly stubborn person, so sometimes I cling to what is and insist that I can make it work..... but to restart- well, sometimes something even better can come from that.  I've seen it many times, yet I still cling.  Oh, sinful stubborness.

Don't worry, I'm nearing the end of my ramblings.  Husband came home the other night with a belated Christmas present for me - a Nikon Coolpix camera.  I think I've mentioned in about 100 comments (okay, slight exaggeration) on other's blogs in recent weeks that I want to get a pocket-sized camera I can have with me at all times, because I'm always missing out on pictures I see and want to take.  Wish granted!

I haven't had the chance to take many great pictures, but last night Husband and I went to my new favorite "fast-food" restaurant, Garbanzos, to have a little mini date night before he left for the weekend.  They're not great photos, and I look awful,  but, in the interest of sharing, here you go.

an unassuming building filled with scrumptiousness inside.

oops, forgot to unzoom from earlier, and we were walking.

Hmm.  Not my best picture ever, but I was excited!

Husband going in for his first bite - he wasn't sure what he was going to think, but he ended up liking it!

 My pita and falafal. 

Turns out my camera has a food setting, but I didn't discover that until after I had eaten every last bite.

 A quick shot of us by the Garbanzo beans as we walked out.

Just for fun, Ginny when we got home.

Happy Friday from a Rambling Beth.  

Dear Brad

Dear Brad,

I can't help but be sad when I think about how much you'll be missed around here.  It's been a while since I've seen you, but I will never forget the many Sundays where you cheerfully stood greeting me as I came in, even though it was nearly impossible to stand.  The youth group nights where you sang, prayed, and even played games blessed us all.  You taught both adults and students alike how to be joyful and content in spite of difficult circumstances, and reminded us that in the big picture, our lives were relatively easy.  You listened with care and, although you didn't speak much, were wise and worth listening to you when you did.  And I've never laughed so hard as the time we passed the pigs all together and you pretty much kicked our booties at it.  You know, Brad, we roll pigs.  When I think about how much you'll be missed by everyone who was blessed to meet you, I can't stop the tears from welling up in my eyes a little.

Yet I also can't help but smile when I imagine you running, jumping, leaping, dancing, exhaling, and inhaling as you never have before.  I know Heaven is full of people being blessed by your enthusiasm as you finally feel what your body was made to do, feeling for the first time the freedom that comes with being 18.  The joy I feel for you is endless.

You fought and lived well, friend.  And while we miss you, we are thrilled for the Life you now live.

Love,
Beth

Dreams

Do you believe in dreams? 

Bed of Dreams, Kathy Ostman-Magnussen

I don't, really. 

I think they're a bunch of random images from our subconcious blended together in our imagination to form who knows what.  I often remember dreams, at least for a little while.  I suppose that makes me a light sleeper, since you have to wake up during the dream to remember it?  Normally my dreams make little sense, but are pleasant and interesting.  I have dreams that take place in recurring situations.  If I dream about my home, it's always the home I lived in from 2nd- 7th grade, but with some weird twist - usually the bathroom is not the bathroom but some other room.  If I dream about school, it's never the school I work at now, but a composite of the different places I've attended and worked over the years.  Most of the time I wake up and think, "that was nice," or sometimes, try to go back to sleep and pick up where I left off.  You know, to get back that warm, fuzzy feeling of happiness.

I don't have bad dreams very often, although when I do, I usually try to "re-invent" the ending of the dream - you know, close my eyes, half sleep, and will the dream to change.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.  The worst dream of my life was a few years ago, and it was so vivid and so awful that I don't even care to tell you about it.

The last week or so, though, I've been having some weird dreams, and not ones I love.  The first one involved me ticking off some guys who then starting beating the crap out of my dog. I woke up seriously upset by that one and had to cuddle Ginny for a while to settle down.  The next night I dreamt of snakes - and I hate hate hate, double hate, loathe entirely snakes.  And in this dream, Ginny and a little tiger I had for some reason were tearing about the snakes.  This morning I woke up after having a weird dream where good friends of ours (not people I actually know in real life, but friends in dreamland) went through a big trauma I don't feel like typing, either.

My mom says maybe I need to pray.

It reminds me of a summer morning several years ago when I was working at an English camp in Spain.  There were five of us 20-something girls all working there who had become quite close.  One morning I woke up after having a dream I can't remember anymore, but with a distinct heavy feeling that I couldn't shake.  I got up early and sat on the couch reading the Bible and praying and, as I did so, a clear sense of peace began to wash over me.  Later that morning when I got to camp, the girls and I were talking.  Four of us had all experienced the same thing - a foreboding feeling that was almost tangible - and we had all immediately dropped to our figurative knees to spend time with the One.  And we all were calmed. 

Now, I don't know what that was about, but I do remember it was powerful.

And so, while I don't really believe in the significance of dreams meaning anything, I do suspect perhaps I should get back on my knees again. 

Hopefully, tomorrow, I'll wake up wanting to go back to sleep to continue the warm, fuzzy feeling, instead of anything else.

Snow Day and My Living Room

A Snow Day. 

A little miracle, a great gift from God. 

A day where I can relax a little and work on things that will help me not fall behind. 

A day to wake up at my leisure (ummm.... 7:15), drink a couple cups of coffee, and read a while before, again, at my own pace, get some things done.

And a Snow Day here?  Well, today the snow has stopped falling (it snowed through the night and made the roads awful), but now the sun is shining brightly and the snow sparkles as if laden with an inset of thousands of tiny little diamonds.  It's quite cold, which makes a cup of coffee or hot cocoa and a fuzzy blanket all the more appealing, but, if I were a child, I would find the nearest hill and go sledding, for it is the perfect weather.

Oh, Snow Day.  How I love you.

And, as promised, a few pictures of my living room, which is still pretty and cozy and lovely. 

 My living room. The rocking chair used to be on the other side of the fireplace, and we had an old, ugly, uncomfortable arm chair that didn't go with anything in the house.  I hate losing a seat, but I really hated that chair more and feel immensly better that it made it's way to Goodwill.

 

My mantle, newly decorated.  It was much more cluttered before and quite colorless.  The pottery vase on the left I bought with a gift card to the Pottery Barn, the flowers, "C", and heart sign (that says "amore") are from Hobby Lobby, and the wrought iron candlesticks are from Goodwill (those I've had for a few months).

The built in bookcase, with some new arrangements.  A while back I painted it to match the wall in the living room, and, inspired by E over at Me, Myself, and E, I started searching for gold and red books.  The baskets I've had forever, and the Willow Tree angels are a favorite item of mine.



One of my favorite shelves. The milk can also came from Pottery Barn - it was on sale for $4! - and the flowers from Hobby Lobby.  Everything else I already had.

Soon to come, pictures of a new shelf I bought that is going in my kitchen, finishing off a blank wall I have been working on since the kitchen was fixed.

May your day be lovely!