Today is a big day. SouthLake students arrived to school with their new pencils and notebooks neatly organized in their new backpacks. Lunches are packed and gyms bags filled with clothes for practice. Freshmen faces show traces of underlying anxiety about locker combinations, difficult classes, peers, and pimples. Seniors confidently and nostalgically walk the halls knowing that today is the first day of their last year.
Teachers arrived this morning with as much excitement and anxiety as their students. First day speeches and smiles are ready on their lips. Rooms are carefully decorated with posters and meaningful quotes. Textbooks lie in stacks, ready to be given out. Young minds await their wisdom and knowledge.
Today everything happened the same way as always, but for the first time in eleven years, my room is not decorated, there are no speeches or lessons, no hall duty or book lists.
Today when I awoke, there was still excitement and anxiety, not about going to school, but about NOT going to school. There is excitement about this next chapter of life. Andrew has, what he calls, his first big boy job. We are expecting Baby Shank sometime in January. We are in a new town with a new church and a new home to decorate and enjoy. But there is also a little bit of anxiety. Not that I'm anxious, mind you, but I am filled with questions: What now? If I don't teach, what should I do with my time until Baby Shank arrives? Substitute or tutor? Try to write? See if I can help with the local cross country team? Actually make a shopping list and dinner plan and cook something?
After my first week in Hilton Head, the questions seem pressing. I've applied at the Christian School here, but replies have been slow. I've mostly been reading books and driving to thrift shops. I want my time to be purposeful, but I sort of just feel like a bum. Our apartment isn't ready yet, so there are no boxes to unpack. Andrew keeps telling me to enjoy the time and that I'm already doing work- making a baby- but eleven years of teaching and coaching is a hard habit to break. Perhaps God is giving the rest and space that I have been needing. I am praying that I won't just fill it up with random things to do, but that God would guide each day and fill it as he decides.
Thursday, August 07, 2014
Monday, April 14, 2014
Crazy Busy
In the midst of my longing for rest from busyness, I realize that much of the problem is my own doing. Hoping to find some wisdom in here:
No time
No time to read. No time to see friends. No time to cook dinner. No time to exercise. No time to get everything done that needs to be done. Why does it always feel like there is not enough time? Why am I always in a hurry, always frantic, always late, always behind, always overwhelmed, always stressed?
My Spring Break began at 3:30 on Friday. As I drove away from school, I began to think about how to spend this newly acquired time. My first thought was to get rid of my watch, that bossy old man that ticks away my life, chides me for not submitting to his deadlines, and who cheerlessly moves forward whether I want him to or not.
As I looked down at my wrist to get rid of this merciless taskmaster, I discovered that I had already haphazardly flung the watch into my school bag.
Before the the thoughts had become words in my mind, my heart must have cried out for no time. No deadlines. No hurry. No rush. No more minutes to watch disappear. No more crushing despair and sense of constant failure.
My soul was crying out for the endless summer days of childhood. For time-free moments with family and friends. For laughter and joy. For a peaceful heart.
We were not made for time. That is why it feels so uncomfortable and strange to us. Like a garment too small, we adjust and readjust trying to make it fit. But time will always feel too small because we were made for eternity, life outside of time.
My Spring Break began at 3:30 on Friday. As I drove away from school, I began to think about how to spend this newly acquired time. My first thought was to get rid of my watch, that bossy old man that ticks away my life, chides me for not submitting to his deadlines, and who cheerlessly moves forward whether I want him to or not.
As I looked down at my wrist to get rid of this merciless taskmaster, I discovered that I had already haphazardly flung the watch into my school bag.
Before the the thoughts had become words in my mind, my heart must have cried out for no time. No deadlines. No hurry. No rush. No more minutes to watch disappear. No more crushing despair and sense of constant failure.
My soul was crying out for the endless summer days of childhood. For time-free moments with family and friends. For laughter and joy. For a peaceful heart.
We were not made for time. That is why it feels so uncomfortable and strange to us. Like a garment too small, we adjust and readjust trying to make it fit. But time will always feel too small because we were made for eternity, life outside of time.
'We are so little reconciled to time that we are even astonished at it. 'How he's grown!' we exclaim, 'How time flies!' It's as strange as if a fish were repeatedly surprised at the wetness of water. And that would be strange indeed; unless of course, the fish were destined to become, one day, a land animal'. - CS Lewis
He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. Ecclesiastes 3:11
Thursday, January 30, 2014
A quiet conclusion
I resonate with this quote from the conclusion of Quiet:
"Whoever you are, bear in mind that appearance is not reality. Some people act like extroverts, but the effort costs them in energy, authenticity, and even physical health. Others seem aloof or self-contained, but their inner landscapes are rich and full of drama. So the next time you see a person with a composed face and a soft voice, remember that inside her mind she might be solving an equation, composing a sonnet, designing a hat. She might, that is, be deploying the powers of quiet."
- Susan Cain
Maybe there's not something wrong with me when I want to be quiet. Maybe there's something right...
"Whoever you are, bear in mind that appearance is not reality. Some people act like extroverts, but the effort costs them in energy, authenticity, and even physical health. Others seem aloof or self-contained, but their inner landscapes are rich and full of drama. So the next time you see a person with a composed face and a soft voice, remember that inside her mind she might be solving an equation, composing a sonnet, designing a hat. She might, that is, be deploying the powers of quiet."
- Susan Cain
Maybe there's not something wrong with me when I want to be quiet. Maybe there's something right...
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Quiet
Do people think I'm boring? Why can't I think of things to say?
Really, small talk? Can't we just be quiet? Or, if we must talk, can
we talk about things that are meaningful? Do people think I am
interesting and funny or just awkward?
Who knew that all these anxieties and more, which have plagued me since adolescence, might actually be partially caused by the American social construct! According to Susan Cain, author of QUIET: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, it is within the past 100 or so years that the American Culture has made a shift from the Culture of Character to the Culture of Personality.
What does this mean exactly?
In the past Americans focused on character: attributes such as citizenship, duty, work, honor, morals, manners, integrity were admired and pursued. Advice manuals talked of how to develop inner character and studied the lives of people like Abraham Lincoln. However, with the rise of a new economy in the early 1900's, people began to move into cities, leaving behind the communities that knew them. Here arose a new breed of man who was supposed to "make a good first impression" in order to get a job among strangers. He has to be able be to sell new products and sell himself.
New guides and books for business men encouraged them to work on being magnetic, attractive, dominant, forceful, energetic, and fascinating. Dale Carnegie was in his prime teaching everyone everywhere how to win friends and influence people. Interestingly, it was in the 1920's and 30's that America began to be obsessed with movie stars.
Extroversion was valued and rewarded, introversion was seen as a disease to be cured. Extroversion and everything external- appearance, personality, clothing- became the measure of a man.
Consequently, it was also during the 1920's that psychology began to develop the idea of the "Inferiority Complex." Parenting articles began giving suggestions of to help their children overcome shyness and develop "winning personalities." Shy or quiet children were believed to to have a problem that needed to be solved.
It is not difficult to trace the trajectory of those early years into today. Image is everything. Personality, being bigger than life, fun, witty, interesting, and always having the right thing to say are valued over quiet, thoughtful, introversion.
Needless to say, this cultural preference for extroversion, personality, and attractiveness has led to anxiety for many causing us to constantly self-analyze and self-doubt. Is it okay that I want to read a book at home instead of be out every night of the week? Is it okay that sometimes I just don't want to talk? Is something wrong with me because I like to be alone sometimes? Am I a bad person because I don't want to make small talk?
Thus far, Cain's book has provided a bit of grace for my soul. It has let me know that we have not always lived in an extroverted, appearance driven society.
Within a day of reading the history of "The Rise of the Mighty Likeable Fellow" in Cain's book, a verse in Colossians seemed to offer an alternative to "dressing to impress" and it said nothing of the need to always have the witty thing to say or the perfect outfit:
I am saying that our culture tends to value extroverted, flashy, impressive, beautiful personalities and people as the best and only valid mode of expression. But it hasn't always. And in this land of personality and the constant anxiety to impress, there is only One whom we should seek to please.
And as Andrew and I, two introverted, not very flashy people, wait for to hear from RUF, I am trying to remind myself that the personalities we each have are the ones that God chose for us. Or, as Andrew reminds me, " Jesus did not come to change our personalities, but to redeem them."
This gives my self-doubting heart a bit of rest.
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Who knew that all these anxieties and more, which have plagued me since adolescence, might actually be partially caused by the American social construct! According to Susan Cain, author of QUIET: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, it is within the past 100 or so years that the American Culture has made a shift from the Culture of Character to the Culture of Personality.
What does this mean exactly?
In the past Americans focused on character: attributes such as citizenship, duty, work, honor, morals, manners, integrity were admired and pursued. Advice manuals talked of how to develop inner character and studied the lives of people like Abraham Lincoln. However, with the rise of a new economy in the early 1900's, people began to move into cities, leaving behind the communities that knew them. Here arose a new breed of man who was supposed to "make a good first impression" in order to get a job among strangers. He has to be able be to sell new products and sell himself.
New guides and books for business men encouraged them to work on being magnetic, attractive, dominant, forceful, energetic, and fascinating. Dale Carnegie was in his prime teaching everyone everywhere how to win friends and influence people. Interestingly, it was in the 1920's and 30's that America began to be obsessed with movie stars.
Extroversion was valued and rewarded, introversion was seen as a disease to be cured. Extroversion and everything external- appearance, personality, clothing- became the measure of a man.
Consequently, it was also during the 1920's that psychology began to develop the idea of the "Inferiority Complex." Parenting articles began giving suggestions of to help their children overcome shyness and develop "winning personalities." Shy or quiet children were believed to to have a problem that needed to be solved.
It is not difficult to trace the trajectory of those early years into today. Image is everything. Personality, being bigger than life, fun, witty, interesting, and always having the right thing to say are valued over quiet, thoughtful, introversion.
Needless to say, this cultural preference for extroversion, personality, and attractiveness has led to anxiety for many causing us to constantly self-analyze and self-doubt. Is it okay that I want to read a book at home instead of be out every night of the week? Is it okay that sometimes I just don't want to talk? Is something wrong with me because I like to be alone sometimes? Am I a bad person because I don't want to make small talk?
Thus far, Cain's book has provided a bit of grace for my soul. It has let me know that we have not always lived in an extroverted, appearance driven society.
Within a day of reading the history of "The Rise of the Mighty Likeable Fellow" in Cain's book, a verse in Colossians seemed to offer an alternative to "dressing to impress" and it said nothing of the need to always have the witty thing to say or the perfect outfit:
Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony . Colossians 3: 12-14There it is: Put on character, put on love and patience and kindness. Put on Christ.
Do not let your adorning be external—the braiding of hair and the putting on of gold jewelry, or the clothing you wear— but let your adorning be the hidden person of the heart with the imperishable beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which in God's sight is very precious. 1 Peter 3:3-4
Charm is deceitful, and beauty is fleeting,I am not saying that small talk is never of value or that desiring to be quiet sometimes is an excuse to not be friendly or kind. Not at all! God's word calls us to kindness and outreach and service.
but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. Proverbs 31:30
I am saying that our culture tends to value extroverted, flashy, impressive, beautiful personalities and people as the best and only valid mode of expression. But it hasn't always. And in this land of personality and the constant anxiety to impress, there is only One whom we should seek to please.
And as Andrew and I, two introverted, not very flashy people, wait for to hear from RUF, I am trying to remind myself that the personalities we each have are the ones that God chose for us. Or, as Andrew reminds me, " Jesus did not come to change our personalities, but to redeem them."
This gives my self-doubting heart a bit of rest.
Sunday, January 12, 2014
2013 Book List
Here is a list of books I read in 2013.
Classics
Jane Eyre- Charlotte Bronte
Evangelism
Case for a Creator- Lee Strobel
Questioning Evangelism- Randy Newman
Current Issues
Amusing Ourselves to Death- Neil Postman
Adolescent Lit.
Monster in the Hollows- Andrew Peterson
North! Or Be Eaten- Andrew Peterson
On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness- Andrew Peterson
Divergent- Veronica Roth
The Mark of Athena- Rick Riordan
The Son of Neptune- Rick Riordan
Inheritance- Christopher Paolini
Artemis Fowl- Eoin Colfer
* Andrew and I love the Andrew Peterson series. If you are looking for a series to read out loud as a family, this is the one!
Marriage, Family, and Relationships
Don't Make Me Count to Three- Ginger Plowman
Men Are Like Waffles, Women Are Like Spaghetti- Bill and Pam Farrel
Bringing up Bébé- Pamela Drukerman
Boundaries With Teens- John Townsend
Boundaries- Henry Cloud and John Townsend
* I laughed all the way through Bringing Up Bebé. An American woman finds herself married to a Scottish man and living in Paris. After they have their first baby, she begins to realize that French mothers and French babies are very different than their American counterparts. Why are French babies able to sleep though the night by three or weeks of age? How are French toddlers able to sit peacefully at the dinner table, allowing their parents to enjoy conversation together?
Personal Growth
Feminine Appeal- Carolyn Mahaney
Nothing Is Impossible With God- Rose Marie Miller
The Envy of Eve- Melissa Kruger
The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness- Tim Keller
* The Envy of Eve was an eye opening book revealing how much and how often I covet. I covet things, relationships, talents, life situations. These, however, are just symptoms of a deeper problem: Lack of trust in God's goodness and God's sovereignty.
Classics
Jane Eyre- Charlotte Bronte
Evangelism
Case for a Creator- Lee Strobel
Questioning Evangelism- Randy Newman
Current Issues
Amusing Ourselves to Death- Neil Postman
Adolescent Lit.
Monster in the Hollows- Andrew Peterson
North! Or Be Eaten- Andrew Peterson
On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness- Andrew Peterson
Divergent- Veronica Roth
The Mark of Athena- Rick Riordan
The Son of Neptune- Rick Riordan
Inheritance- Christopher Paolini
Artemis Fowl- Eoin Colfer
* Andrew and I love the Andrew Peterson series. If you are looking for a series to read out loud as a family, this is the one!
Marriage, Family, and Relationships
Don't Make Me Count to Three- Ginger Plowman
Men Are Like Waffles, Women Are Like Spaghetti- Bill and Pam Farrel
Bringing up Bébé- Pamela Drukerman
Boundaries With Teens- John Townsend
Boundaries- Henry Cloud and John Townsend
* I laughed all the way through Bringing Up Bebé. An American woman finds herself married to a Scottish man and living in Paris. After they have their first baby, she begins to realize that French mothers and French babies are very different than their American counterparts. Why are French babies able to sleep though the night by three or weeks of age? How are French toddlers able to sit peacefully at the dinner table, allowing their parents to enjoy conversation together?
Personal Growth
Feminine Appeal- Carolyn Mahaney
Nothing Is Impossible With God- Rose Marie Miller
The Envy of Eve- Melissa Kruger
The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness- Tim Keller
* The Envy of Eve was an eye opening book revealing how much and how often I covet. I covet things, relationships, talents, life situations. These, however, are just symptoms of a deeper problem: Lack of trust in God's goodness and God's sovereignty.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Antsy
I am starting to get antsy. Why haven't we heard anything from RUF yet?
This summer, Andrew and I got approved to do RUF, the university campus ministry of the PCA. During our final assessment meeting, we were given the stamp of approval, but we were also told not to put all our eggs in one basket. They told us that they would be evaluating what campuses would need ministers, but that we would need to wait patiently during the process.
Well...we have been waiting...since July....
We are excited about the future. Moving to a new place feels like an adventure. Andrew and I both are looking forward to being "the Shanks" somewhere new. Not just Andrew and Trish, still with our separate sets of social circles and obligations, like we are here. We can't wait to have a new home with space in the backyard for a garden and maybe some chickens. We are excited about having college kids in our home for Bible study and Wednesday night dinners.
But we haven't heard anything. Not a peep.
I am getting antsy. Not anxious antsy. Excited antsy. Can't wait to know where are going antsy.
Just the other week I was looking out my classroom window, thinking about the future, and admiring the bright red tree that sits close by. There was a little bluebird sitting on the end of a branch, looking out to the sky. It hopped around on the branches. It played with another bird. It was beautiful. It made my heart happy. As it flew away my mind was filled with a gentle reminder:
Uh oh! Maybe I am not just antsy, maybe I am worried. Busted!
My worry was uncovered a few days later as Andrew and I were on a walk. As we talked RUF and the future, he mentioned how we would have to move in June to wherever we might be called. What? That soon? I panicked. My heart and my mind began to race. My true feelings about the future bubbled to the surface. We don't have very much money saved. We will have not had time to raise all the money we will need. What if there is a little Shank on the way? What if we don't like where we are going? What if they don't like us? What if, what if, what if?
Matthew 6...don't worry, your Father knows...
Maybe I am antsy because if I knew where we were going I could start looking for that house that has room for chickens and college kids. And we could start looking for our new church where we could be "the Shanks." If I knew where we were going I could at least start dreaming about it and planning for it.
Look at the birds...
Maybe it is a grace that we do not know yet. If I knew, perhaps my mind and my heart would begin to move on from Charlotte, from my friends, from our church, from my job. Maybe not knowing is a gift that allows me to continue being present here, to keep teaching, to keep investing, to keep living.
I don't want to check out mentally and fail to live fully in every moment of my last year of teaching at SouthLake- my students deserve better, my colleagues deserve better, the Lord deserves better. I don't want to spoil sweet times with friends because my gaze has moved from them to the future- These moments with them cannot be regained. I don't want my heart to move on, forgetting what is in front of me- There is so much now to be had.
I don't want to miss the now. I will keep looking at the birds.
This summer, Andrew and I got approved to do RUF, the university campus ministry of the PCA. During our final assessment meeting, we were given the stamp of approval, but we were also told not to put all our eggs in one basket. They told us that they would be evaluating what campuses would need ministers, but that we would need to wait patiently during the process.
Well...we have been waiting...since July....
We are excited about the future. Moving to a new place feels like an adventure. Andrew and I both are looking forward to being "the Shanks" somewhere new. Not just Andrew and Trish, still with our separate sets of social circles and obligations, like we are here. We can't wait to have a new home with space in the backyard for a garden and maybe some chickens. We are excited about having college kids in our home for Bible study and Wednesday night dinners.
But we haven't heard anything. Not a peep.
I am getting antsy. Not anxious antsy. Excited antsy. Can't wait to know where are going antsy.
Just the other week I was looking out my classroom window, thinking about the future, and admiring the bright red tree that sits close by. There was a little bluebird sitting on the end of a branch, looking out to the sky. It hopped around on the branches. It played with another bird. It was beautiful. It made my heart happy. As it flew away my mind was filled with a gentle reminder:
“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? - Matthew 6: 25-27
Uh oh! Maybe I am not just antsy, maybe I am worried. Busted!
My worry was uncovered a few days later as Andrew and I were on a walk. As we talked RUF and the future, he mentioned how we would have to move in June to wherever we might be called. What? That soon? I panicked. My heart and my mind began to race. My true feelings about the future bubbled to the surface. We don't have very much money saved. We will have not had time to raise all the money we will need. What if there is a little Shank on the way? What if we don't like where we are going? What if they don't like us? What if, what if, what if?
Matthew 6...don't worry, your Father knows...
Maybe I am antsy because if I knew where we were going I could start looking for that house that has room for chickens and college kids. And we could start looking for our new church where we could be "the Shanks." If I knew where we were going I could at least start dreaming about it and planning for it.
Look at the birds...
Maybe it is a grace that we do not know yet. If I knew, perhaps my mind and my heart would begin to move on from Charlotte, from my friends, from our church, from my job. Maybe not knowing is a gift that allows me to continue being present here, to keep teaching, to keep investing, to keep living.
I don't want to check out mentally and fail to live fully in every moment of my last year of teaching at SouthLake- my students deserve better, my colleagues deserve better, the Lord deserves better. I don't want to spoil sweet times with friends because my gaze has moved from them to the future- These moments with them cannot be regained. I don't want my heart to move on, forgetting what is in front of me- There is so much now to be had.
I don't want to miss the now. I will keep looking at the birds.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Small Victories
Today, I said "No."
But I didn't say "no" at first. Some students asked me to sponsor the Spanish Club. I know that it would be great to have a Spanish Club, and I have some ideas for it, and they need a sponsor and, and, and.............and I said "yes."
I didn't want to say "yes." But I couldn't help myself. What if I let them down? What if they were disappointed? What if no one else would do it? What if I was missing an opportunity?
Andrew and I talked about my dilemma and my addiction to saying "yes." We talked about how I already have good things to give my time and energy to- teaching new classes and coaching cross country. How God is big enough to provide someone else. How I am not infinite or limitless. He reminded me that sometimes you have to say "no" to good things. He coached me through it, he gave me words to say, he encouraged me that it was okay.
Today was a little victory.
Today I said, "No."
But I didn't say "no" at first. Some students asked me to sponsor the Spanish Club. I know that it would be great to have a Spanish Club, and I have some ideas for it, and they need a sponsor and, and, and.............and I said "yes."
I didn't want to say "yes." But I couldn't help myself. What if I let them down? What if they were disappointed? What if no one else would do it? What if I was missing an opportunity?
Andrew and I talked about my dilemma and my addiction to saying "yes." We talked about how I already have good things to give my time and energy to- teaching new classes and coaching cross country. How God is big enough to provide someone else. How I am not infinite or limitless. He reminded me that sometimes you have to say "no" to good things. He coached me through it, he gave me words to say, he encouraged me that it was okay.
Today was a little victory.
Today I said, "No."
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Remedy for my grumbling heart
Year number 11 of teaching has begun, and I find my will kicking and screaming, not wanting to submit again to the disciplines of being a good teacher: wrestling with content and ideas, studying, carefully crafting lesson plans, communicating with parents, getting to know students, collaborating with fellow teachers. I feel discouraged at my lack of enthusiasm and vision for the year. I feel sluggish and weary. Inside I am complaining and grumbling and telling myself that I am ready to be finished teaching.
But then, in the midst of my unsettled, grumbling heart comes the reminder that this is what I am called to. This is what God has gifted me to do. It is what he has put in front of me to do right now. No one said it wouldn't cost anything to be a teacher. No one said it wouldn't cost anything to follow Christ.
This year, the call of Christ rings loudly in my heart and mind, calling me to lay down my life and my will to follow him and feed his sheep.
As I read through the "Getting to know you" sheets each of my students filled out on the first day of school, I discover that many have written that they rarely or never go to church. And now the battle inside me to do the work of a teacher seems to take on new meaning and seriousness. The battle is not just to teach them a foreign language, but to teach them about the Creator of Language, the Living Word of God. This is a spiritual battle, one that can not be won by human wisdom or power, but only with God's help.
Please pray for me. Pray for all believers who teach in both public and Christian schools. Pray for our students.
But then, in the midst of my unsettled, grumbling heart comes the reminder that this is what I am called to. This is what God has gifted me to do. It is what he has put in front of me to do right now. No one said it wouldn't cost anything to be a teacher. No one said it wouldn't cost anything to follow Christ.
This year, the call of Christ rings loudly in my heart and mind, calling me to lay down my life and my will to follow him and feed his sheep.
Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.The call feels impossible, and in indeed it is, but our Savior has already gone before us. He has laid down his life, doing what was necessary to redeem a people to himself. He gave freely, without grumbling. I don't have to save my own life. I can give freely to my students knowing that Christ himself holds my life in his hand.
As I read through the "Getting to know you" sheets each of my students filled out on the first day of school, I discover that many have written that they rarely or never go to church. And now the battle inside me to do the work of a teacher seems to take on new meaning and seriousness. The battle is not just to teach them a foreign language, but to teach them about the Creator of Language, the Living Word of God. This is a spiritual battle, one that can not be won by human wisdom or power, but only with God's help.
Please pray for me. Pray for all believers who teach in both public and Christian schools. Pray for our students.
Thursday, August 08, 2013
First and last
Today was the first day of my (maybe) last year of teaching (at least for a while). Of course my plans may be different than God's plans, but I am hopeful!
It was hard to go back after summer vacation. I felt a little like a retired basketball player trying to make a comeback- rusty, creaky, and out of practice! My brain felt scattered and distracted. Routines perfected last year were forgotten. Plans felt elusive.
Meh.
Well, ready or not, here we go!
It was hard to go back after summer vacation. I felt a little like a retired basketball player trying to make a comeback- rusty, creaky, and out of practice! My brain felt scattered and distracted. Routines perfected last year were forgotten. Plans felt elusive.
Meh.
Well, ready or not, here we go!
Monday, July 29, 2013
A time for roots
Not all times are growing up and out times or fruiting times. Sometimes are rooting times. Times to dig deep and drink in the nutrients. Time in secret where no one else can see. Times in the interior.
Today I lopped off the tops of my irises. It was hard to do, but necessary. The blades were wilting, laying on the ground. Why? Because I moved them, tearing up their root systems. Then, the roots weren't strong enough to support the tops, so they wilted, flopped over, pitiful. I went online and searched for answers: cut off the tops, it said, so the roots can grow without having to waste energy on the leaf fans and flowers.
Two more weeks until school starts. I need to lop of my branches, stop producing, and just dig deep and drink deeply.
Today I lopped off the tops of my irises. It was hard to do, but necessary. The blades were wilting, laying on the ground. Why? Because I moved them, tearing up their root systems. Then, the roots weren't strong enough to support the tops, so they wilted, flopped over, pitiful. I went online and searched for answers: cut off the tops, it said, so the roots can grow without having to waste energy on the leaf fans and flowers.
Two more weeks until school starts. I need to lop of my branches, stop producing, and just dig deep and drink deeply.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
A better rest
Summer is winding down and I am getting a sinky feeling in my stomach. Where did the time go? How did the summer get away from me so quickly? Why is the list of summer to-dos still basically untouched? I envision little Trish, with hands pressed forward trying stop the speeding train that is time.
In just two weeks the kids will fill up the halls again. Homework will be assigned. Quizzes will be given. Audible groans will be heard. Students will look longingly out of classroom windows thinking about anything and everything but math and Spanish and literature.
I'm not ready!
Maybe summer is different when you are an adult. Maybe I don't feel like I've had a summer break because I didn't experience a child-like summer. A summer where days are long and clocks tick slowly. There is no sense of time slipping by, no reason to wear a watch. Just endless days and books to read, pools to swim in, friends to see.
As I mourn my lost summer and continue to long for rest, I am reminded of a better rest, a summer rest that will not end. "So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God..."
In just two weeks the kids will fill up the halls again. Homework will be assigned. Quizzes will be given. Audible groans will be heard. Students will look longingly out of classroom windows thinking about anything and everything but math and Spanish and literature.
I'm not ready!
Maybe summer is different when you are an adult. Maybe I don't feel like I've had a summer break because I didn't experience a child-like summer. A summer where days are long and clocks tick slowly. There is no sense of time slipping by, no reason to wear a watch. Just endless days and books to read, pools to swim in, friends to see.
As I mourn my lost summer and continue to long for rest, I am reminded of a better rest, a summer rest that will not end. "So then, there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God..."
The term is over: the holidays have begun. The dream is ended: this is the morning.” And as He spoke He no longer looked to them like a lion; but the things that began to happen after that were so great and beautiful that I cannot write them. And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on forever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.” The Last Battle, CS Lewis
Saturday, July 06, 2013
Good wine
Jesus performed his first miracle at a wedding at Cana in Galilee. Two years ago, I was beginning to wonder if Jesus could perform a wedding miracle for me.
The parade of gentleman that had come in and out of my life had brought a lot of longing and hope and disappointment. But none of them was "the one." They didn't like me. Or I didn't like them, but couldn't let go, fearing that there would never be anyone else. The dating rollercoaster was not much fun and it felt endless. Hope, sad, hope, sad, Hoooooope, disappointment, sad.....hope?
In the fall of 2011, I read about Jesus and the wedding at Cana. In the middle of the wedding festivities the wine ran out. When Jesus learned this, he told the servants to get six stone water jars and to fill them with water.
Just water.
That's what my best efforts felt like: water.
Just water.
I couldn't make marriage happen. That's all I could offer: water.
I had tried everything to find the right man to marry- praying, meeting new people, dressing nice, going on lots of dates, being open and friendly. Nada.
Just water.
I tried to talk myself into marrying a man that I only liked as a friend- "No one promised fireworks. There are arranged marriages every day. Why not just settle? You can grow to love him. You can make this work."
Just water.
Trying to make a guy like me or make myself like him, was like trying to turn water in to wine...impossible.
Just water.
Back to Cana. Once the stone jars had been filled to the brim with water, some was drawn out and taken to the master of the banquet-
That's what I felt He wanted for me- the best wine. He wanted to bring wine to my wedding! Wine, a symbol of joy and gladness and blessing. Wine, a sign of abundance and fruitfulness. I could wait and trust in Him to bring the right husband for me. A good husband. A godly husband. A husband that I didn't have to talk myself into marrying. The right husband. Good wine.
And though I knew that it might be God's plan for me to remain single, I found my heart confessing: God, even if you never bring me a husband here on this earth, I know there is a much better wedding that awaits me, that awaits all who trust in Christ. One day there will be a wedding and a feast and our true husband will celebrate the homecoming of his beautiful, spotless Bride.
I am thankful that Jesus performed the miracle of a wedding in Charlotte, North Carolina on September 29, 2012, bringing good wine and joy and gladness and blessing into my life.
And I look forward to the day when He will perform another miracle, a forever miracle, finally bringing His Bride home to the place that He has prepared for us.
You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. Psalm 4:7
For your love is better than wine. Song of Solomon 1:2
I tell you I will not drink again of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” Matthew 26:29
Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out,
Come quickly, Lord Jesus!
The parade of gentleman that had come in and out of my life had brought a lot of longing and hope and disappointment. But none of them was "the one." They didn't like me. Or I didn't like them, but couldn't let go, fearing that there would never be anyone else. The dating rollercoaster was not much fun and it felt endless. Hope, sad, hope, sad, Hoooooope, disappointment, sad.....hope?
In the fall of 2011, I read about Jesus and the wedding at Cana. In the middle of the wedding festivities the wine ran out. When Jesus learned this, he told the servants to get six stone water jars and to fill them with water.
Just water.
That's what my best efforts felt like: water.
Just water.
I couldn't make marriage happen. That's all I could offer: water.
I had tried everything to find the right man to marry- praying, meeting new people, dressing nice, going on lots of dates, being open and friendly. Nada.
Just water.
I tried to talk myself into marrying a man that I only liked as a friend- "No one promised fireworks. There are arranged marriages every day. Why not just settle? You can grow to love him. You can make this work."
Just water.
Trying to make a guy like me or make myself like him, was like trying to turn water in to wine...impossible.
Just water.
Back to Cana. Once the stone jars had been filled to the brim with water, some was drawn out and taken to the master of the banquet-
When the master of the feast tasted the water now become wine, and did not know where it came from (though the servants who had drawn the water knew), the master of the feast called the bridegroom and said to him, “Everyone serves the good wine first, and when people have drunk freely, then the poor wine. But you have kept the good wine until now. John 2: 9-10Jesus turned the water into wine. Not just any wine, the BEST wine.
That's what I felt He wanted for me- the best wine. He wanted to bring wine to my wedding! Wine, a symbol of joy and gladness and blessing. Wine, a sign of abundance and fruitfulness. I could wait and trust in Him to bring the right husband for me. A good husband. A godly husband. A husband that I didn't have to talk myself into marrying. The right husband. Good wine.
And though I knew that it might be God's plan for me to remain single, I found my heart confessing: God, even if you never bring me a husband here on this earth, I know there is a much better wedding that awaits me, that awaits all who trust in Christ. One day there will be a wedding and a feast and our true husband will celebrate the homecoming of his beautiful, spotless Bride.
I am thankful that Jesus performed the miracle of a wedding in Charlotte, North Carolina on September 29, 2012, bringing good wine and joy and gladness and blessing into my life.
And I look forward to the day when He will perform another miracle, a forever miracle, finally bringing His Bride home to the place that He has prepared for us.
You have put more joy in my heart than they have when their grain and wine abound. Psalm 4:7
For your love is better than wine. Song of Solomon 1:2
I tell you I will not drink again of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father’s kingdom.” Matthew 26:29
Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out,
“Hallelujah!
For the Lord our God
the Almighty reigns.
Let us rejoice and exult
and give him the glory,
for the marriage of the Lamb has come,
and his Bride has made herself ready;
it was granted her to clothe herself
with fine linen, bright and pure”—
for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.
And the angel said to me, “Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” And he said to me, “These are the true words of God.” Revelation 19:6-9Come quickly, Lord Jesus!
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Finally!
I am so thankful that this man has come into my life. I waited a long time :)
Someone asked recently if the thought of being a pastor's wife was something that made me feel scared. It made me a recall a conversation that Andrew and I had very early on while we were dating, in which he told me three things: 1) He feels called to ministry, 2) he will most likely leave Charlotte after seminary, and 3) he will have to fund raise. Instead of feeling nervous about these three things, my heart cried out, "Finally!"
Finally, a man who knows his own calling and purpose. Finally, a man who to whom I can be a helper. Finally.
Someone asked recently if the thought of being a pastor's wife was something that made me feel scared. It made me a recall a conversation that Andrew and I had very early on while we were dating, in which he told me three things: 1) He feels called to ministry, 2) he will most likely leave Charlotte after seminary, and 3) he will have to fund raise. Instead of feeling nervous about these three things, my heart cried out, "Finally!"
Finally, a man who knows his own calling and purpose. Finally, a man who to whom I can be a helper. Finally.
 |
| And, finally, a man who is as dorky as I am :) |
Enough
This spring our Sunday school class was studying the Gospel of John. As we read through John 17, which is the record of Jesus' prayer for his disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane, I felt a prick of hope followed by conviction followed by hope again.
"Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth." - John 17:17
First, Hope: Jesus is praying that God would sanctify all believers-That he would make them whole and holy. If Jesus is praying, of course His Father will answer! This is a prayer that will happen. We can count on it. My Father will free me from all the sin and brokenness that entangles: selfishness, insecurity, lack of trust, pride, anger, anxiety, worry. And He will make me more like His Son: patient, kind, loving, gentle, faithful, wise.
Then came conviction: When I see sin or brokenness in my life, I tend to give myself a diagnosis: "selfish," and then, forgetting about the words of life and instruction given in God's word, I hunt for some other book that will cure me. I run to man's words and thoughts and solutions. I especially run to counseling books for things I am afraid of or think I will fail at: How to have a great marriage, How to raise children, How to overcome anxiety, how to be a good wife, how to _________.
And then came hope again: The answer to all my how-to questions is within Jesus' prayer: "Sanctify them by the truth, YOUR WORD is TRUTH." God's word is the answer and His word is enough!
All Scripture is God breathed. It is useful for teaching, correcting, rebuking and training in righteousness (2 Timothy 3:16).
God's word is living and active, sharper than any double-edge sword. It lays bear the thoughts and intentions of the heart (Hebrews 4:12).
The Word of God will accomplish what the Lord purposes and desires (Isaiah 55:11).
It is able to make us wise unto salvation through faith in Christ (2 Timothy 3:15).
When we do the word, we find liberty (James 1:22-25).
Meditating on God's word makes us like a tree planted by streams of water, whose leaf does not whither, who bears fruit in season (Psalm 1).
The Word of God is enough!
God's word can....
Call me to repentance when I am selfish and point me to the forgiveness and grace available to those who confess their sin (1 John 1:9)
Show me how to grow in Christ by staying connected to the vine (John 15:5)
Teach me to know how to love as Christ loved (John 13:34, John 15:13)
Give me wisdom to raise children by training them up in the ways of the Lord (Prov. 22:6)
Give me faith to believe that my past is not my future and that God's plans are for my good (Romans 8:28-30)
Give peace when anxiety threatens to undo me by teaching me to cast all my anxieties on HIM because HE cares for me (Phil. 4:4-9, 1 Peter 1:7)
Point me to Christ, the author and perfecter of my faith, the one who gives everything I need for life and godliness (Heb. 12:1-2, 2 Peter 1:3)
The Word of God is enough!
Many have found Jesus' words difficult. After one particularly hard teaching many who had once followed Christ began to desert Him. Jesus turned to his disciples and asked, "You do not want to go away also, do you?" My heart answers with Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have words of eternal life."
We do not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from God's mouth (Matthew 4:4)
"Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth." - John 17:17
First, Hope: Jesus is praying that God would sanctify all believers-That he would make them whole and holy. If Jesus is praying, of course His Father will answer! This is a prayer that will happen. We can count on it. My Father will free me from all the sin and brokenness that entangles: selfishness, insecurity, lack of trust, pride, anger, anxiety, worry. And He will make me more like His Son: patient, kind, loving, gentle, faithful, wise.
Then came conviction: When I see sin or brokenness in my life, I tend to give myself a diagnosis: "selfish," and then, forgetting about the words of life and instruction given in God's word, I hunt for some other book that will cure me. I run to man's words and thoughts and solutions. I especially run to counseling books for things I am afraid of or think I will fail at: How to have a great marriage, How to raise children, How to overcome anxiety, how to be a good wife, how to _________.
And then came hope again: The answer to all my how-to questions is within Jesus' prayer: "Sanctify them by the truth, YOUR WORD is TRUTH." God's word is the answer and His word is enough!
All Scripture is God breathed. It is useful for teaching, correcting, rebuking and training in righteousness (2 Timothy 3:16).
God's word is living and active, sharper than any double-edge sword. It lays bear the thoughts and intentions of the heart (Hebrews 4:12).
The Word of God will accomplish what the Lord purposes and desires (Isaiah 55:11).
It is able to make us wise unto salvation through faith in Christ (2 Timothy 3:15).
When we do the word, we find liberty (James 1:22-25).
Meditating on God's word makes us like a tree planted by streams of water, whose leaf does not whither, who bears fruit in season (Psalm 1).
The Word of God is enough!
God's word can....
Call me to repentance when I am selfish and point me to the forgiveness and grace available to those who confess their sin (1 John 1:9)
Show me how to grow in Christ by staying connected to the vine (John 15:5)
Teach me to know how to love as Christ loved (John 13:34, John 15:13)
Give me wisdom to raise children by training them up in the ways of the Lord (Prov. 22:6)
Give me faith to believe that my past is not my future and that God's plans are for my good (Romans 8:28-30)
Give peace when anxiety threatens to undo me by teaching me to cast all my anxieties on HIM because HE cares for me (Phil. 4:4-9, 1 Peter 1:7)
Point me to Christ, the author and perfecter of my faith, the one who gives everything I need for life and godliness (Heb. 12:1-2, 2 Peter 1:3)
The Word of God is enough!
Many have found Jesus' words difficult. After one particularly hard teaching many who had once followed Christ began to desert Him. Jesus turned to his disciples and asked, "You do not want to go away also, do you?" My heart answers with Peter, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have words of eternal life."
We do not live on bread alone, but on every word that comes from God's mouth (Matthew 4:4)
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Lessons of the garden
I am a novice gardener. My very first garden was made up of tomatoes, cucumbers, and green beans planted in a little 3x6 raised bed in the backyard.
Actual gardening seemed easy enough: insert seed, add water, watch grow...right? Not being a fan of reading directions, or following them, even if I do happen to read them, I took no notice of the label on the seed package that explained how far apart to space each seed. Obviously, if you want more vegetables then you should plant more seeds. Who cares if you have a small garden plot?! Pack 'em in closer!
My mind was filled visions of the little 3x6 garden producing pounds of tomatoes, beans and cucumbers, perhaps even enough to build a little roadside stand to sell them to neighbors. Instead of pounds of tomatoes, there were just some scraggly plants that produced only a fistful of green beans and 2 pitiful tomatoes.
And I learned a lesson. Plants need space to grow. They need room to spread out their stems. They need plenty of soil to not have to compete with other plants for nutrients. More plants does necessarily not mean more vegetables.
I think I've been trying this same approach in life: More activity equals more fruitfulness. Cram in activity after "important" activity. Every need feels like a call to action and participation. Every invitation is returned with a "yes." Every spare moment or empty space of time must be filled in.
But in the end, I am exhausted and wondering where the fruit is. Yeah, there's a couple of green beans and a little tomato or two, but not much worth eating. If my life is a 3x6 garden, everything is packed in a little too close.
As school winds up this year, I am exhausted and overwhelmed and trying to learn the lessons of the garden. My life is small and I am only one person. I want to live a fruitful life for Christ, but perhaps I have thought about it incorrectly. In this fast-paced culture, where importance and success is measured in numbers and results, slowing down and focusing on just a few things can be guilt-inducing-"Why aren't you doing more?"
But what if real fruitfulness is found in less and not more? Or maybe less and more. Less frantic activity and more letting the roots run deep and fully being in those few areas where I choose to sow my life.
So little by little, I am plucking up the extra plants crammed into my life. It is difficult to decide which ones to keep and which to discard. But even as I do, I begin to see the ones that are left begin to spread out their leaves and fill into the newly cleared space. And out in the backyard our garden is also growing, with perfectly spaced plants reaching out and up and little tomatoes ripening on the vine.
Actual gardening seemed easy enough: insert seed, add water, watch grow...right? Not being a fan of reading directions, or following them, even if I do happen to read them, I took no notice of the label on the seed package that explained how far apart to space each seed. Obviously, if you want more vegetables then you should plant more seeds. Who cares if you have a small garden plot?! Pack 'em in closer!
My mind was filled visions of the little 3x6 garden producing pounds of tomatoes, beans and cucumbers, perhaps even enough to build a little roadside stand to sell them to neighbors. Instead of pounds of tomatoes, there were just some scraggly plants that produced only a fistful of green beans and 2 pitiful tomatoes.
And I learned a lesson. Plants need space to grow. They need room to spread out their stems. They need plenty of soil to not have to compete with other plants for nutrients. More plants does necessarily not mean more vegetables.
I think I've been trying this same approach in life: More activity equals more fruitfulness. Cram in activity after "important" activity. Every need feels like a call to action and participation. Every invitation is returned with a "yes." Every spare moment or empty space of time must be filled in.
But in the end, I am exhausted and wondering where the fruit is. Yeah, there's a couple of green beans and a little tomato or two, but not much worth eating. If my life is a 3x6 garden, everything is packed in a little too close.
As school winds up this year, I am exhausted and overwhelmed and trying to learn the lessons of the garden. My life is small and I am only one person. I want to live a fruitful life for Christ, but perhaps I have thought about it incorrectly. In this fast-paced culture, where importance and success is measured in numbers and results, slowing down and focusing on just a few things can be guilt-inducing-"Why aren't you doing more?"
But what if real fruitfulness is found in less and not more? Or maybe less and more. Less frantic activity and more letting the roots run deep and fully being in those few areas where I choose to sow my life.
So little by little, I am plucking up the extra plants crammed into my life. It is difficult to decide which ones to keep and which to discard. But even as I do, I begin to see the ones that are left begin to spread out their leaves and fill into the newly cleared space. And out in the backyard our garden is also growing, with perfectly spaced plants reaching out and up and little tomatoes ripening on the vine.
.JPG) | |
| Tomatoes! Thanks to my husband who actually reads directions about spacing and is helping me make space in my life :) |
Tuesday, June 04, 2013
The hardest part of teaching
The hardest part of teaching is not...
the mountain of papers to grade
or
the time and stress of planning the perfect lessons
or
the pressure of administration, parents, and students all expecting you to perform perfectly
or
the doubt that clouds your mind while trying to discipline and train students to be responsible
or
the insecurity that floods as you think about what students might think about you
or
trying to help your students understand complicated ideas
or
the frustration of knowing sometimes you just can't get through to them.
The hardest part of teaching is saying goodbye...
to students you love
students who make you laugh
students who have filled the halls with laughter and loud voices and all kinds of shenanigans
students who have popped in to say hello or ask for help or tell you a story
students who have shared life with you, shared tears, shared meals, shared dreams
students who have changed you as you have hoped to change them
students who have written sweet notes of thanks
students who have brought you a piece of chocolate because they know you like it
students who are quirky and smart and unique and fun and nerdy and artsy
students who check in when you seem sad
students whose parents love you
students you share memories with
students you have prayed for and hoped with
students you have seen happy and sad
students whose faces light up when they see you
Yes, saying goodbye is the hardest part.
the mountain of papers to grade
or
the time and stress of planning the perfect lessons
or
the pressure of administration, parents, and students all expecting you to perform perfectly
or
the doubt that clouds your mind while trying to discipline and train students to be responsible
or
the insecurity that floods as you think about what students might think about you
or
trying to help your students understand complicated ideas
or
the frustration of knowing sometimes you just can't get through to them.
The hardest part of teaching is saying goodbye...
to students you love
students who make you laugh
students who have filled the halls with laughter and loud voices and all kinds of shenanigans
students who have popped in to say hello or ask for help or tell you a story
students who have shared life with you, shared tears, shared meals, shared dreams
students who have changed you as you have hoped to change them
students who have written sweet notes of thanks
students who have brought you a piece of chocolate because they know you like it
students who are quirky and smart and unique and fun and nerdy and artsy
students who check in when you seem sad
students whose parents love you
students you share memories with
students you have prayed for and hoped with
students you have seen happy and sad
students whose faces light up when they see you
Yes, saying goodbye is the hardest part.
Saturday, May 18, 2013
Busy
Busy, busy, busy
spin, spin, spin
put another coin in
watch her turn again, then
all this frantic racing
never thinking, pacing
how to get there fastest
never finish last, best
Rushing, sprinting, flying
run, run, run
cannot take a break, yet
no thing left undone, none
heart inside is shrinking
no room for feeling, thinking
A robot's all that's left here
There's no time for tears, dear.
spin, spin, spin
put another coin in
watch her turn again, then
all this frantic racing
never thinking, pacing
how to get there fastest
never finish last, best
Rushing, sprinting, flying
run, run, run
cannot take a break, yet
no thing left undone, none
heart inside is shrinking
no room for feeling, thinking
A robot's all that's left here
There's no time for tears, dear.
Bring 'em back!
I have a confession: I get a little nostalgic thinking about the Charlotte Hornets. The Hornets were MY team. They were my parent's team. They were every Charlottean's team.
We remember Hugo the Hornet and holding our breath as Super Hugo attempted his flying flip dunks. We remember Grandmama and the incredibly quick Mugsy Bogues. We proudly displayed our teal and purple. We loved the Charlotte Coliseum, electric with energy as all of the BEE-lievers cheered on the Bugs.
Rumor is that the Hornets are coming back to the QC. We've been waiting! So, come home Hugo!
** Another confession: I used to collect basketball cards. ; ) A little strange for a 10 year-old girl....
We remember Hugo the Hornet and holding our breath as Super Hugo attempted his flying flip dunks. We remember Grandmama and the incredibly quick Mugsy Bogues. We proudly displayed our teal and purple. We loved the Charlotte Coliseum, electric with energy as all of the BEE-lievers cheered on the Bugs.
Rumor is that the Hornets are coming back to the QC. We've been waiting! So, come home Hugo!
** Another confession: I used to collect basketball cards. ; ) A little strange for a 10 year-old girl....
Friday, May 17, 2013
Intimidated
I find that I am a little intimidated at the thought of blogging right now. I happen to be
married to a really intelligent, logically-minded, theologian of a man
whose dearest mum is a great grammarian and writer. I am intimidated, very intimidated!
What if my blog is not logical or well thought-out or correctly punctuated? What if I write something that could possibly be heretical? What if I am not heretical or ungrammatical, but just a bad writer in general? They would definitely know!
But I have to write. There are too many thoughts flying around in my head. They need somewhere to go. So here we go! Back to blogging and back to potential grammatical and theological heresy.
What if my blog is not logical or well thought-out or correctly punctuated? What if I write something that could possibly be heretical? What if I am not heretical or ungrammatical, but just a bad writer in general? They would definitely know!
But I have to write. There are too many thoughts flying around in my head. They need somewhere to go. So here we go! Back to blogging and back to potential grammatical and theological heresy.
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