Wallet

Bethany: Zach, do you have to have your wallet in your left pocket?
Zach: Yes. Women don't understand the effect of switching the cheek.

They're fun to watch

What Rachel, Kyla, and Anne do when Kayla leaves for a retreat.

On Zach being misinformed about the shelf life of swelled beans

Yesterday Mike discovered

the beans Zach had been

hoarding atop the fridge.

With a tilt of the lid

the lodge was overrun.

Bean soup was not an option.

In reflecting, I have connected today's dots

Michael will be so proud of me when/if he reads this: The book One Thousand Gifts is a mind-shifter. Thankfulness reinforced by the concept of eucharisteo runs rampant throughout, challenging even the Content audience to find grace and joy everywhere. I would definitely recommend the read. Today, as Mike shared his love for Anne Voskamp's book (AGAIN - but a welcome motif), I thought about my attitude towards

graduation deadlines and
student teaching responsibilities and
teacher certification requirements and
a new Jimmy John's job and
life.

I have this PSYCHOLOGY-101-tendency to label these things "stressors." Since they're stressors, I'm allowed to stress about them and feel anxious and have negative emotional and physical responses to them. The books say I can. The books.

Anne's book reminds me that God's book says that I have freedom. I have a not-secret secret. I have Someone sharing life's yoke. I have a Sabbath in Christ. I can rest in Him. I am not chained to worry. I am unbound by worship. He has given me the ability to trust in Him. He has given me the ability to live in Jubilee now and look forward to Jubilee in full later. Soon.

-I am thankful for school. I look forward to this next (slightly ambiguous) chapter in life.
-I am thankful for work. I look forward to gaining experience as well as not needing this particular job forever.
-I am thankful for funny, supportive friends and a goofy, talented boyfriend and all the venues of worship at school.
-I am thankful for church. I am thankful for learning how to be in relationship (in 1000 senses of the word).
-I am thankful for small group and meeting God in liturgy and meeting God in lectio divina and meeting God in memorization and meeting God in service.

I am thankful.

"I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation..."

...and it is through Him.

Live (Present) Now With (Future) Then In Mind

A thought that reinforces my optimism found in Heaven Is For Real. I contemplate the next several decades and the eternity after them with joy.

random conglomerate

My mom and brother are here. As are Mike's parents. As is Anna Holliday. It's a week for visits. All good visits, too.

JK was delicious. Caitlin was an awesome comedian, she represented the women without "representing" women. Ben Peltier was himself, which was utterly left-field funny. Jeremy was the wild card funny. He was hysterical and hyper.

Mike kidnapped Ben. How bizarre.

It is A-THUNDERIN' and the storm's A-COMIN' :D

The 10th grader's made me cry. I barely held it in until the bell rang. They were a little bit too much. Too much too much too much too much.

It's the beginning of Spring Break. I could not be more relieved or overjoyed. Not because I've disliked teaching, but just because I'm TIRED and ready for a BREAK! WHOO!!!

SO CLOSE

Oh dear. Another *eh* quick write.

I'm a coaster this semester --
not coasting, but rolling

up ticking inclines
(wringing bars and wishing for seat belts)

and down helpless drops
(clinging hard and thinking of everythingandnothing).

I can't feel out a rhythm
because we're not allowed to stop

but I see a pattern in
the turns and shifts and drops

and I'm a mess. A passenger
who thought I was in control because

I got in line. But
I was out of line to think I could handle this alone.

So thank the Lord I'm not alone and
thank the Lord I've got this home and
thank the Lord when I adjust to

turns and bumps and
don't yack my guts.

This track would be easier to predict
if it had an iamb or a rhyme,
but that doesn't mean I can't handle

free verse.

Quote for the Week

Trust issues.

I'm giving myself an intervention. I have trust issues. I might struggle to trust you. I'm afraid that I'll get my feelings hurt. I'm going to try and work on this.

a (written) spoken word poem

Today he parked his car outside my building

and said, in all seriousness, 

Whenever you're ready. 

As though he'd wait forever for me

to shuffle out that door,

all ruffled hair and tipping coffee and books and bags and

unprepared, but ready

(enough)

for the day.

Wait forever happily,

just to keep himself from being another thing on my mind 

when my hands were already full.

How sweet of him to send a text

when piled atop my flyaways perched invisible

lesson plans and chalky concepts and post it notes.

To send a text as if to say,

Can I carry something for you?

Like the old days when guys were guys and girls were dolls.

And so even when I'm not dolled up

or slept up or brushed up,

I'm up and on the up this morning 

because he checked up and picks me up

and is anything but a disr up tion

on the way to school.

Today they didn't say they hated me --

to my face.

They didn't roll their eyes --

to my knowledge.

They smiled sweetly when they didn't mean it,

which means a lot to me

because they pretended to try. And while

they didn't love the test,

they tried their best

and asked their questions. Questions like, "What's the answer to number 2?"

Today they only locked me out in the hall

when I needed to talk to my absentees in the hall anyway

and when I keyed back in, they didn't look at me like Frankensteins --

the little monsters I created when I told them,

"I'm going to make you do work."

Today they only cussed a little,

and not at me.

So why wouldn't I thankfully smile at them

as they handed me their work

and assure them I'd be back tomorrow?

Of course I would. Today my juniors 

were almost angels.

Today I blasted music, trotting barefoot 

back and forth on years of linoleum grime

that I'm sure facilitates the learning.

I hefted books and sang old songs,

yearning for the concept that 

reorganizing the layout of the room

would help them love the new unit. 

I want them to cooperate as I teach them about social rebellion

and be quiet as I lecture on loud-mouths

who were smart enough to ignore people who called them loud-mouths.

I want them to think quietly to themselves

as I tell them to express their identities

through words and colors and voices. Choices

will have to be made about pedagogy, since they'll call me a hypocrite.

But I thought about that as I trotted
barefoot back and forth. 

And I think I'll bridge that chasm. That schism

between me and them that's supposed to be bridged

with motivation, but the economy or the family or --

what are people saying now? The government? Something's 

closed that off...
Anyway, I'll bridge that gap

by giving a couple inches on the leash 

as I talk them a walk around Harlem's parks

and card sharks and rebellious barks.
I'll let them be rebellious, expressive loud-mouths. At times. 

And when they lark too long, I'll sigh

and remind myself how great the room looks

and tell them to open their books.

Today it was 850 degrees outside.

Well, 70. But here -- and in March, 70 is just the same as
triple digits. All our fidgets are out the window

as windows fly open and frisbees fly

freely and blankets spread neatly

on the grass that's finally dry.

Today, we ate outside

and laughed about our relatives

and spoke in silly accents

until a cold breeze said, "The ide's aren't here

but it's still March," and we marched

ourselves indoors, happy that we could pretend

it was spring, if only for a moment.

thank You's

Today I am thankful for warm breezes and a sunny evening. I am thankful for a laurel leaf when flowers aren't in bloom. I am thankful for absolutely delicious food that had grown too familiar. I am thankful for a new old blue house. 

I am thankful for my cute little roommate and her funny stories. For friends when I'm incoherent. For Mike's arm around me, especially after a hard day. 

I am thankful for familiar faces asking familiar questions and little faces saying, "Hi, Miss Mueller!" I am thankful for art and friendship and love and smiles and life here in the lodge.

I will not boast. I will not worry.

Often, we ask for our daily bread because we're worried about it. Worry causes us to check out from life. We feel like if we worry, we're being responsible. But God says, Stop being so independent of me.

Isaiah 58

Read Isaiah 58 today. It is a great Lent passage and a great "Get on board with God" passage. I read it and was oddly uplifted. I think I've been coming to terms recently with the idea that following God whole-heartedly is not a loss of freedom as much as it is the finding of complete fulfillment*, safety**, and good.

*Not fulfillment in the "I get everything I want right now" sense. Fulfillment in the "I get everything I have ever needed and never even knew I wanted" sense. 

**Not safety in the "easy" sense. Safety in the "I'm being led through the Valley of the Shadow of Death by a Shepherd who wouldn't dare let me get eaten by wolves" sense. 

Freedom Writers

Last night I watched Freedom Writers for the first time with Kylee, Stephanie, and Kayla. I think I liked it a lot. It made me feel as though teaching can be whatever I make it, almost. Mrs. Gruwell, for example, decided to stick with the students she had and then work with them to create programs for other students. I didn't like that her husband left her. Not cool.

Perks

OH. Mike, Jon, and Zach called on their way to Gatlinburg and I loved it.

Kylee invited me to eat with her, the math majors, and Chris. SO good to see other student teachers. Then we Starbucks...ed.

God is faithful

I was very disheartened after yesterday, but today yielded God's favor. I briefly wrote about it on my small group's blog, here.

:/

Very good day prepping for teaching tomorrow. I'm kind of exhausted, however.

In high school

Mrs. V: We didn't do bell work yesterday because of the drug survey.

Student 1: Yay!

Student 2: I love drugs.

Student 1: I love surveys.

Mrs. V: All needs were met by that activity.

Love is not moldy ANYTHING. Maybe like moldy old age because we've been in love for so long together. -10th grade boy

This is a dumb love poem. I could write better poetry than this. Love is a balloon that flies real high. See? Easy. -10th grade boy, talking about Carl Sandburg

Lenten bits

Out with the bad
I hate what faithless people do; 
   I will have no part in it. 
The perverse of heart shall be far from me; 
   I will have nothing to do with what is evil.


In with the good
My eyes will be on the faithful in the land, 
   that they may dwell with me; 
the one whose walk is blameless 
   will minister to me.

Read Psalm 101 and get into the Lenten spirit

 Rend your heart
   and not your garments.
Return to the LORD your God,
   for he is gracious and compassionate,
slow to anger and abounding in love,
   and he relents from sending calamity.
Who knows? He may turn and relent
   and leave behind a blessing—
grain offerings and drink offerings
   for the LORD your God.

Joel 2:13-14

a midnight not-poem snack

At 1 AM on three/one/twelve,

I stop grading oddly formatted papers

and decide to do dishes to have cookware to make macaroni and cheese.

Velveeta can stuff it. I use real cheddar and

scrape my bowl clean because 

I'm only hungry

when it's not time to eat and

I only want to write poetry

when it's not time to jot.

But I jot anyway, 

knowing late-night macaroni-ed thoughts

are only cheesy line breaks

oozing from a tired noodle.

True poems sprout best in sunlight.