So much has happened in the last few weeks and months. I'm not even really sure if I'll be able to update much about it in one post. But that's okay. That's the great thing about blogging. I can start and stop and make each post the way I want.
There's a post on this blog called "Testimony: Take 2" (yes, before writing any post...I try to look back on some of my previous posts to avoid re-telling the same information over and over again). Over the last few weeks, I've still had this notion in my mind to share my story. I just never really figured out where to share my story...or with who. And...although my last attempt at writing my testimony finally took it down to something more manageable than the 54 pages started as...there was still quite a bit of detail to talk about.
As I've been hanging out more and more with my Fishball friends, I've been wanting to open myself up more to them. I guess it's been coming from my time this summer I was able to have with going back to the young adult Bible study again. I was actually surprised many times during that Bible study of how many people shared insights and thoughts and help over the summer that made me realize...that a lot of my struggles that I've had...are not original...and many of the people that I've been hanging out with over the last few weeks and months are actually in similar situations or have been in similar situations. And so, I've been looking more into my personal story, particularly at my past relationships. And looking at how past hurts and mistakes have formed me into the person that I am today. Originally, I was thinking of going HUGE and sharing a portion of my story with our entire church. But...upon further investigation into my own heart...it was really my friends from the Bible study and Fishball that I wanted to share this story with. Unfortunately, about the time I wanted to start sharing this story, my Zumba class moved back to Tuesday and Thursday nights...abruptly haulting that thought. But...I continued to work on writing out the details of how much my friendships and relationships have changed just in the last few months and weeks...and kept praying that God would somehow open up the time I needed and the people for me to share my story with...and give me the words to say.
In the midst of all of this, though...God was beginning to plant the seeds of a new friendship for me.
One of the first times I went back to the Bible study this summer, there was a girl there (who will go unnamed). I remember hearing her introduce herself that first night as being a traveling medical professional (how she ended up in NW Ohio...I don't really know). I remember just being struck with realizing that she was rather new to the area...and jumped in with both feet to our church and Bible study. Seriously...when I moved to NC...I SLOWLY waded into my church...and it took a few months before I started doing anything else besides just attending church there. But...I remember meeting her...and then that was about it for another month or so...until I started playing Fishball.
I don't really even remember how all of this ended up happening. Somehow, though, after a few weeks, I managed to find out that this girl had a huge passion for dance...just like me! Then again...there's a lot of other friends I know from my church who have also danced. It wasn't until a few weeks ago when I was walking through the lobby at church after church, that she turned to me...and said that a group of people were going out for lunch and asked if I wanted to join. I had ridden to church that morning with my mom...so I had to find a ride to go out to lunch...and ended up riding with her. In the like 10 minutes or less that we were in the car from the church to the restaurant, we managed to talk about Zumba, dance, and have an in-depth conversation about modern dance and the use of African drumming to dance to. By the time we got to the restaurant, I remember just thinking to myself...like it was almost like we were speaking a "language" of dance...and somehow knew exactly what the other was talking about. Even during lunch, though, we got talking about sharing testimonies, and struggling to keep our testimony to a time limit (like 5 minutes or less...). I just remember thinking about how cool that it was that it seemed like this girl "got" me. Like she understood.
Over the next few weeks...I kinda took that feeling for granted. I continued to play Fishball with her...and spending my Sunday nights watching zombie shows with a group of peeps from church including her. I knew that she was a traveling medical professional...and would be eventually moving to another state. I started talking to her a bit about her move...because I had friends and relatives that lived in the same state she'd be moving to. It wasn't until her very last week in our area that something amazing...something profound...and something so beautiful started to happen.
Last weekend, our group of friends threw her a surprise going-away party. At this point, I didn't really know how I felt about that. I knew that I had felt like there was a special spiritual connection between us...but at the same time, I hadn't really gotten to know her that much. We gave her a couple gifts from the group...but no one really got her a card (well, one person did...but it wasn't from the group). So...the following day (since I still had another week before she left) while out shopping with my mom, I decided that I'd pick up a card and write her a nice little note in the card. Mom offered to maybe consider putting something small in the card (like a gift card). But...I wanted to do something different. As a dancer, I often try to find songs that inspire me to dance. Over the last several weeks, it seemed there were a LOT of songs mentioned, shared, and discussed via Facebook. Using my Itunes account...I found 20 songs that either inspired me to dance...or was a song someone had talked about from our group...and burned them to a CD (actually...only 19 of the 20 songs ended up on the CD...my playlist was 2 1/2 minutes too long for my CD). I actually felt really silly...because others had gotten her like pictures and other things...and here I was...giving her a mix CD.
I planned to give her the card with the CD in it the next day (Sunday) either at Fishball or after our zombie party. While at church that morning, though, I felt God nudging my heart and telling me to share my story with her. I had had it typed up and ready to go on my computer. For a second, I was pretty scared...because I didn't know this girl very well. But...I decided it was worth the risk (granted, if by some chance things got extremely awkward after I shared my story with her...she would be gone in another week and no one would need to know anything). So...after getting back from church that afternoon, I sent her a Facebook message explaining that God had laid it on my heart to share my story with her...and I attached it into the message on Facebook. I wasn't really prepared to have her read my story and tell me that it was incredible. Not really the adjective I was thinking anyone was going to use to describe my story. With that task seeming to have gone over pretty easily...I just had to worry about giving her the card and CD next.
When I got to Fishball last Sunday, I anxiously waited for her to get there...to be able to judge the awkwardness-meter. She got there...came over...and gave me a hug. Again...not really what I was expecting. Later that evening, after finishing the season finale of "Fear the Walking Dead" (a.k.a. - ZOMBIES!), as it seemed like most people were getting ready to head out...I walked over and handed her my card. Before even opening it...she pulled me aside and asked to talk to me for a bit. Not gonna lie..I was a little scared. Mostly because several years earlier, during my senior year of college, one of my friends sent me a text and asked if we could talk a few days before one of the holiday breaks. I met her at a location with another friend of ours present (to mediate the conversation)...and for the next 3 hours, we cried, we screamed, and we yelled. Our relationship was falling apart. And the meeting ended with her walking out crying and me feeling like an idiot. I tend to get a little anxious when anyone asks to talk to me personally in a private location.
As soon as we got away from the other people...we sat down...and she asked to pray with me. After we prayed, we talked. About my story. About our friends. About how "incredible" and courageous it was for me to share that story. As I drove home that night...all I could think was how perfect that encounter was. How much grace and love she extended to me. A person she barely knew! It was perfect...getting to share my story with her, and how she responded to it. When I got home...I had a text waiting for me from her...thanking me for the CD. According to her...it was perfect. Who knew that the sweetest gifts don't always have to cost a lot of money?
A few days later, still thinking about that encounter on Sunday night, I made a decision to cancel my Zumba class on Thursday night so I could see her at least one more time at the young adult Bible study. And...using the experience from Sunday as my inspiration, I decided to take another bigger step of faith...and asked to share that same story at the Bible study. I worked for the rest of the week on adding, subtracting, changing, and editing my story...and kept rehearsing what to say for this testimony.
This is where the hard part of this story comes.
As I've been trying to process the events of the last week...there's just so much. And so many WHY?s.
Why did we only become so close in this last week?
Why did she actually have to leave?
Why did she think my story was incredible (not gonna lie...it didn't feel that incredible as I was going through it)?
Why is it so incredible that I shared my story?
Why was I so blessed to meet this sweet friend...even if for such a short amount of time?
Why did it seem like we had a closer connection...even in such a short amount of time?
Why hadn't I tried harder earlier while she was here to spend more time with her?
A couple days ago...I think I found a possible reason. Someone posted a quote on Facebook that said "Friendship is measured in moments shared...not in time shared". It's the MOMENTS that I shared with her...that I'll be carrying around with me for a very long time.
As I tried to process these events, I figured something out, though. This sweet girl is on a mission. And...knowing the title of my entire blog...and thinking of my endeavors of getting into the missions field...that's something I'm drawn to. Every 12-13 weeks, she travels to a new city, a new state, a new mission field. Although her mission is in the US and is based on being a traveling medical professional...I can still relate.
Let me put it this way. Five years ago, 9 members from our church (including me) spent 5 amazing days in Thailand with the kids we provide the care for in a couple orphanages. I'm going to take the guess...that the impact we made on those kids in 5 days...is about the same impact that this sweet sweet girl made on all of us Fishball people in 12 weeks. We provided physical help to the kids in Thailand (cups, towels, and shoes)...she provided physical friendship. We took the kids out on exciting adventures (like out to ice cream). We got to experience exciting adventures with her as well. We shared the love of Jesus to a bunch of children in Thailand...language barrier and all...but the language of God's love was the same. She shared the love of Jesus with a bunch of NW Ohioans through her personality, passions, and presence. The language of God's love was the same. We heard many stories of the trials and struggles some of our kids in the orphanages in Thailand. She heard my story of my trials and struggles.
It's a mission. I'm not losing a friend who is moving away. I've been blessed to join a sweet friend in praying for her as she continues to follow the path God has her on. I've been blessed to be maybe one of her first "partners" in her mission. And I've been blessed to learn an important lesson. Regardless on if God ever opens up the doors for me to teach English overseas...where ever I am is a mission field. My church is a mission field. My teaching job is a mission field. You don't always have to go someplace to have a mission. You simply have to be open to allow God to use you in mighty ways...could be as short as 5 days...12 weeks...or maybe even several years.
I'll probably have more thoughts on this in the coming weeks. But there's one last thing I want to leave with. The title of this post is "For Good" which I'm taking from the song of the same title from the musical "Wicked". The lyrics are listed below:
I've heard it said
That people come into our lives for a reason
Bringing something we must learn
And we are led
To those who help us most, to grow
If we let them
And we help them in return
Well, I don't know if I believe that's true
But I know I'm who I am today
Because I knew you...
Like a comet pulled from orbit
As it passes the sun
Like a stream that meets a boulder
Halfway through the wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good
It well may be
That we will never meet again
In this lifetime
So let me say before we part
So much of me
Is made of what I learned from you
You'll be with me
Like a handprint on my heart
And now whatever way our stories end
I know you have re-written mine
By being my friend...
Like a ship blown from its mooring
By a wind off the sea
Like a seed dropped by a skybird
In a distant wood
Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
But because I knew you
I have been changed for good
I think this song perfectly sums up the way I feel about my sweet friend. Because I knew her...although it may have been a brief time...I know that I've been changed for good and for the better. And I'm so insanely glad that God brought her into my life. And I'll always hold the moments that we've shared "like a handprint on my heart".
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Saturday, September 5, 2015
The Heart of Worship
JOY
It's my middle name. And in some weird sense...I feel like it is my duty to live out that middle name. I've always been interested in learning as much as possible about joy. From what I've learned...Joy is NOT just simply being happy. Joy goes much deeper than that. Philippians is FULL of information about joy and tips to be joyful.
Over the last couple weeks...I have experienced this word "Joy" numerous times. Several years ago, there was a song we sang at church called "Counting on God" by Desperation Band. I was a junior in college the first time I heard this song..and I was in AWE of it! Mostly because I loved what the chorus says about joy:
Joy unspeakable that won't go away
Just enough strength to live for today
So I'll never have to worry what tomorrow will bring
Because my faith is on solid rock
I'm counting on God.
I believe we first sang this song at church shortly after my decision to rededicate my life to Christ and get baptized. While sitting in my dorm room (apparently ignoring any homework for my regular college classes) I started pondering more about this song...and ended up writing the lyrics down in Sharpie marker...color-coding certain words in the song. What I love about this song is that...if you think about what it says in reverse...it makes sense. When you are counting on God, your faith is on Solid Rock...and when your faith is in the ROCK, there's no worries about tomorrow...and when you aren't worried about tomorrow...you have the strength to get through today...and once you've experienced all of that, you end up with JOY UNSPEAKABLE! That...my friends...is what JOY...real JOY looks like. It goes beyond "happy". It's those things that happen that only God can make happen...that literally takes the words out of your mouth...and all you're left with is a creepy looking smile that you can't explain where it's coming from.
And over the last couple weeks...that's the kind of JOY I've been experiencing.
As mentioned before in this blog...I got a new job! This past week was my first week of that new job and...so far...it has gone better than most of my past "new jobs"...especially the teaching ones. I'll probably be posting more about my students and my teaching in the future...so I won't go into too much more detail about the job. But...I am experiencing some JOY from my job.
Along with the job...my schedule has opened up a bit. I guess I never really realized while I was working retail about just how much time I was sacrificing. Yes, most weeks I was only working 30 or less hours per week. But some how...with how and where those hours fell...I felt like I NEVER had time. Now, I'm working even more hours...teaching, nonetheless...and I feel like I have more time available. Once the first paycheck comes for the new job...I may also be experiencing another form of joy from this job. But...I got some joy out of that.
One of the things my new-found time in my schedule has brought me...is more time to hang out with people from church. Over the last couple years, that hasn't always been easy. With my last retail job, I never really wanted to request too many days off per week or put too many restrictions on my availability. Aside from one Bible study and my Zumba class that I'm contracted to teach...everything else was seemingly optional. Last fall, I had a class on Wednesday nights which caused me to miss my Bible study every week until Christmas break. My Zumba class has been scheduled in Tiffin on Tuesdays and Thursdays for the last year and a half...which gets in the way of another Bible study for young adults on Thursday nights. However, this summer, my Zumba class got moved to Saturday mornings. I've thoroughly enjoyed going back to our young adult Bible study. And, surprisingly, about a year ago when I stopped going to that Bible study, we weren't getting that many people into the group. But somehow...at least during this summer...we've been getting almost 20 people each week. For a girl that's grown up in the same church for 15 of the last 16 years...that's crazy to actually see NEW people coming into our Bible study.
And then...my joy continued...with a funky game called Fishball. The first couple times I went back to the young adult study, I was invited to play this weird game. I had no idea what it was, I know how badly I normally am at organized sports (I still remember the time in elementary gym class, while playing kickball...I actually caught the ball in the outfield...and my whole class applauded for me. That was like the first and only time I ever caught anything in gym class). So...the first few times, I made excuses on why I couldn't go. But then something happened. I was sitting at church one Sunday and one of the guys from the Bible study comes passing by, said hi to me...and then extended another invitation to play Fishball. It took me another couple weeks to finally join the group created on Facebook for Fishball and eventually get out to play the first time last week. Basically (and I may not be explaining this very well) Fishball takes components of volleyball, tennis, and dodgeball, and mixes it into one volleyball-ish game. (Tennis comes in with serving and we play on the tennis court...dodgeball comes in because you can get points by hitting a player on the other team with the ball...appropriately called a "snipe").
Two weeks ago, our church celebrated its anniversary with our annual chicken dinner. The following Wednesday, the music ministry of the church put on a concert at the local county fair. The next evening, the young adult Bible study held our study...but was more of a party and a bonfire. The following Sunday, there was a sweet message at church...and then my debut of playing Fishball. Two days later, on Tuesday, I played Fishball AGAIN. The next night was Wednesday night Bible study. Last night there was another party for the young adult group. Good friends. Good game. Good music. And a Good God. I have caught myself smiling randomly so many times in the last 2 weeks. And I know why.
JOY.
But there is something else that brings me joy.
Worship.
As I've mentioned before in this blog...I have pretty much grown up in the church. But even more than growing up in church...I've grown up with church music. My mom started out as an organ (the instrument) major in college, before deciding to become a nurse instead. But, she's still kept up on her skills and has played organ for weddings and churches many times. Growing up, I've always been a Momma's girl. And growing up, many times I would end up at church with my mom while she did music. And many times, it seemed like the worship leaders and music ministers she worked with began to feel more like family than just a pastoral leader at the church.
In the 16 years we've been going to Grace, we are on music minister #3. Now...in my books, this is actually a pretty good record. In the six years I was in high school (grades 7-12), we went through 4 principals. And in the six years I was in youth group at church (again, grades 7-12), we went through 3 youth pastors. So...3 music ministers in 16 years isn't too bad. I don't remember much about the first guy. We were new to the church...the church was much bigger than anywhere else we had been...and the music was a lot different then the traditional hymns we were used to singing. (This is still back when Grace had an actual organ instrument that was used regularly).
A couple years after we started going to Grace, we got a new music minister. By this time, I was pretty good about coming to church with my mom to go to the sound check for church. In our family...there were normally 2 options on how to get to church (not going wasn't normally an option). You could either go early with mom...to the sound check...and end up at church over an hour early. Or...you could go with dad...and normally if you were able to get to church to hear the FULL sermon...you were doing pretty good. Not wanting to get into any bad habits about getting places on time...I ALWAYS went with mom. I'd chat with the ladies at the coffee bar (eventually I think that would become the reasons for my coffee addiction) but occasionally, the music minister would need me to run an errand. Sometimes it was up to his office to grab something. Sometimes I'd be sent with a few sheets of music and a code to the church's copier to make copies of a piece of music. Sometimes I'd be asked to go somewhere in the middle of the sanctuary to listen to sound quality. When my mom's pages of music started blowing away, sometimes I'd sit with her and be a page turner. One time on a Wednesday night, they were trying to test some kind of sound thing...and needed someone to sing one of the songs during the practice...and I got to do that. And when I wasn't doing any of those things...I'd be sitting, reading a book or playing a game...with worship music going on in the background.
As I grew up going to Grace, as I got older, I started doing even MORE with the music ministry. I'd help with children's musicals (a couple times even dancing in the middle of one). I think I started popping into the choir to sing for Christmas programs starting when we got there. When I hit college age...I was notorious for not being able to come to choir practice on Wednesdays, but still showing up to sing on Sunday mornings. I'd run in to church, lip sync the songs through the first service, and by the second service, I could mostly sing all the songs (I generally just followed whatever the melody line of the song was).
But I've never seen my musical abilities as being all that great. My mom's studied music in college. My brother has been a drummer and has some awesome auditory skills (he's written entire songs from movies on the composing program we used to have on our computer after only hearing the song a few times). Even my dad sang. Me? I took piano lessons...but eventually didn't seem to be getting much better. When I was in 5th grade, I started playing the flute for band...and was put in the 2nd to last chair in the section. Then I switched over to bass clarinet...where I could be my own section...but there's not much of a use for bass clarinet...and I don't own my own instrument. I like to sing...but have a pretty decent soprano voice...but am generally too shy to let my soprano voice out when I'm around others. I do a lot on the outside of worship. But not much on the inside.
But apparently, even mixed in with the choir at church...I can still find JOY in singing. One of my all time favorite stories to tell is like that. A few years ago, that music minister left our church to move with his family to another state. For a few months, we had no music minister as the search began for the next one. In those few months, there were some rumors going around that whenever the new music minister came, there was a pretty good chance that choir would either not exist, or would be changing to something different...and many choir members were deciding weather to stick with choir or not. While the search continued, that spring, a couple volunteers from the choir came together and decided to help organize the choir to sing for a few last special services (mother's day, Easter, and Good Friday). The person directing the choir was also an elementary music teacher. Another volunteer played the piano and organized instrumentalists to play the backup for the song.
Good Friday evening that year, after practicing the song a couple last minute times, I started heading to go to the bathroom before the service started. As I was heading down the hall, the woman who was directing the choir stopped me and said "I just wanted to let you know how much I LOVE your smile!". I was confused. What smile? I wasn't just singing? Isn't it a cardinal rule of being on stage to smile and look like you're having FUN? She went on and told me how when I was smiling...she saw it...which made her smile. And when she smiled, it made the rest of the choir happy and smile. And that in return...would be going out to the congregation. I'm pretty sure for the rest of that Easter weekend, instead of smiling, I was making goofy faces at her.
But that wasn't the first time someone complimented me on what must be a God-given talent associated with singing and the stage. About 3 weeks after our new music minister started, I peaced out, and moved to NC. I think it was like my second week at my church in NC, while singing during the service, the person standing in the row behind me in the congregation randomly tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and they said "Wow...you have a good voice!"
A few months after that, I had been helping in the nursery of my church in NC for a while, and I was getting coffee at the coffee shop at the church. The children's minister walked up to me and said "I've heard an interesting rumor about you recently"...I asked what that was...and she said "I was told that you have a very nice singing voice". A couple weeks later...I debuted in leading children's worship for the church.
Even just a few months ago, there was a scheduling issue on a Sunday at my retail job that caused me to not be able to go to Grace for church that Sunday. So...instead I went to my assistant manager's church. Two songs into the worship set and she was telling me how beautiful my voice was and was asking why I wasn't singing on a regular basis at church.
The truth is, about the time our newest music minister started (the one I left for NC about 3 weeks later)...I was dealing with a LOT of change in my life. I had graduated from college and worked at a job that I had wanted to quit after the first week. My friends were changing, getting married, having kids, and leading what seemed like "perfect" lives...sometimes even moving miles away. I couldn't seem to find a place to serve in the church...and with a new music minister, it seemed like my chances of doing anything more with the music ministry wasn't going to do much. I was feeling burned out from my church. I was feeling like the only ministry opportunity I had left was to help in the nursery. In a church the size of mine...I thought that was ludicrous that of ALL the serving areas...I was feeling like I was limited to just one. And about the time I probably could have inquired about what was available for me to try in music ministry with the new guy...I was offered a job in NC and ran off to try to find something different.
Over the last year, I realized that I've never really given the guy a fair chance. And...I've been meaning to look into trying to get into the music ministry again. Only this time...I guess I can't really just get grandfathered in because I'm the pianist's daughter (and awkwardly stalk the other people on the ministry). Maybe this time my ministry needs to be more based on the talent God gave me and not just my family connections. Ironically, my Bible study on Wednesdays is going to be taking a bit of a break for a while in a few weeks. Maybe that's the time I need to start going back to choir practice again.
When I'm fully into worship, though...and get that little smile...that's joy. The joy of my heart and soul reaching God's.
Oh yeah...and our music minister...is one of the guys who plays Fishball. It's an interesting way to get to know one of your pastors when you're playing a game where it's completely legal to throw a ball and hit one of the other pastors' children...and other members of the church for that matter.
Joy Unspeakable.
That's what I've been experiencing these last two weeks.
It's my middle name. And in some weird sense...I feel like it is my duty to live out that middle name. I've always been interested in learning as much as possible about joy. From what I've learned...Joy is NOT just simply being happy. Joy goes much deeper than that. Philippians is FULL of information about joy and tips to be joyful.
Over the last couple weeks...I have experienced this word "Joy" numerous times. Several years ago, there was a song we sang at church called "Counting on God" by Desperation Band. I was a junior in college the first time I heard this song..and I was in AWE of it! Mostly because I loved what the chorus says about joy:
Joy unspeakable that won't go away
Just enough strength to live for today
So I'll never have to worry what tomorrow will bring
Because my faith is on solid rock
I'm counting on God.
I believe we first sang this song at church shortly after my decision to rededicate my life to Christ and get baptized. While sitting in my dorm room (apparently ignoring any homework for my regular college classes) I started pondering more about this song...and ended up writing the lyrics down in Sharpie marker...color-coding certain words in the song. What I love about this song is that...if you think about what it says in reverse...it makes sense. When you are counting on God, your faith is on Solid Rock...and when your faith is in the ROCK, there's no worries about tomorrow...and when you aren't worried about tomorrow...you have the strength to get through today...and once you've experienced all of that, you end up with JOY UNSPEAKABLE! That...my friends...is what JOY...real JOY looks like. It goes beyond "happy". It's those things that happen that only God can make happen...that literally takes the words out of your mouth...and all you're left with is a creepy looking smile that you can't explain where it's coming from.
And over the last couple weeks...that's the kind of JOY I've been experiencing.
As mentioned before in this blog...I got a new job! This past week was my first week of that new job and...so far...it has gone better than most of my past "new jobs"...especially the teaching ones. I'll probably be posting more about my students and my teaching in the future...so I won't go into too much more detail about the job. But...I am experiencing some JOY from my job.
Along with the job...my schedule has opened up a bit. I guess I never really realized while I was working retail about just how much time I was sacrificing. Yes, most weeks I was only working 30 or less hours per week. But some how...with how and where those hours fell...I felt like I NEVER had time. Now, I'm working even more hours...teaching, nonetheless...and I feel like I have more time available. Once the first paycheck comes for the new job...I may also be experiencing another form of joy from this job. But...I got some joy out of that.
One of the things my new-found time in my schedule has brought me...is more time to hang out with people from church. Over the last couple years, that hasn't always been easy. With my last retail job, I never really wanted to request too many days off per week or put too many restrictions on my availability. Aside from one Bible study and my Zumba class that I'm contracted to teach...everything else was seemingly optional. Last fall, I had a class on Wednesday nights which caused me to miss my Bible study every week until Christmas break. My Zumba class has been scheduled in Tiffin on Tuesdays and Thursdays for the last year and a half...which gets in the way of another Bible study for young adults on Thursday nights. However, this summer, my Zumba class got moved to Saturday mornings. I've thoroughly enjoyed going back to our young adult Bible study. And, surprisingly, about a year ago when I stopped going to that Bible study, we weren't getting that many people into the group. But somehow...at least during this summer...we've been getting almost 20 people each week. For a girl that's grown up in the same church for 15 of the last 16 years...that's crazy to actually see NEW people coming into our Bible study.
And then...my joy continued...with a funky game called Fishball. The first couple times I went back to the young adult study, I was invited to play this weird game. I had no idea what it was, I know how badly I normally am at organized sports (I still remember the time in elementary gym class, while playing kickball...I actually caught the ball in the outfield...and my whole class applauded for me. That was like the first and only time I ever caught anything in gym class). So...the first few times, I made excuses on why I couldn't go. But then something happened. I was sitting at church one Sunday and one of the guys from the Bible study comes passing by, said hi to me...and then extended another invitation to play Fishball. It took me another couple weeks to finally join the group created on Facebook for Fishball and eventually get out to play the first time last week. Basically (and I may not be explaining this very well) Fishball takes components of volleyball, tennis, and dodgeball, and mixes it into one volleyball-ish game. (Tennis comes in with serving and we play on the tennis court...dodgeball comes in because you can get points by hitting a player on the other team with the ball...appropriately called a "snipe").
Two weeks ago, our church celebrated its anniversary with our annual chicken dinner. The following Wednesday, the music ministry of the church put on a concert at the local county fair. The next evening, the young adult Bible study held our study...but was more of a party and a bonfire. The following Sunday, there was a sweet message at church...and then my debut of playing Fishball. Two days later, on Tuesday, I played Fishball AGAIN. The next night was Wednesday night Bible study. Last night there was another party for the young adult group. Good friends. Good game. Good music. And a Good God. I have caught myself smiling randomly so many times in the last 2 weeks. And I know why.
JOY.
But there is something else that brings me joy.
Worship.
As I've mentioned before in this blog...I have pretty much grown up in the church. But even more than growing up in church...I've grown up with church music. My mom started out as an organ (the instrument) major in college, before deciding to become a nurse instead. But, she's still kept up on her skills and has played organ for weddings and churches many times. Growing up, I've always been a Momma's girl. And growing up, many times I would end up at church with my mom while she did music. And many times, it seemed like the worship leaders and music ministers she worked with began to feel more like family than just a pastoral leader at the church.
In the 16 years we've been going to Grace, we are on music minister #3. Now...in my books, this is actually a pretty good record. In the six years I was in high school (grades 7-12), we went through 4 principals. And in the six years I was in youth group at church (again, grades 7-12), we went through 3 youth pastors. So...3 music ministers in 16 years isn't too bad. I don't remember much about the first guy. We were new to the church...the church was much bigger than anywhere else we had been...and the music was a lot different then the traditional hymns we were used to singing. (This is still back when Grace had an actual organ instrument that was used regularly).
A couple years after we started going to Grace, we got a new music minister. By this time, I was pretty good about coming to church with my mom to go to the sound check for church. In our family...there were normally 2 options on how to get to church (not going wasn't normally an option). You could either go early with mom...to the sound check...and end up at church over an hour early. Or...you could go with dad...and normally if you were able to get to church to hear the FULL sermon...you were doing pretty good. Not wanting to get into any bad habits about getting places on time...I ALWAYS went with mom. I'd chat with the ladies at the coffee bar (eventually I think that would become the reasons for my coffee addiction) but occasionally, the music minister would need me to run an errand. Sometimes it was up to his office to grab something. Sometimes I'd be sent with a few sheets of music and a code to the church's copier to make copies of a piece of music. Sometimes I'd be asked to go somewhere in the middle of the sanctuary to listen to sound quality. When my mom's pages of music started blowing away, sometimes I'd sit with her and be a page turner. One time on a Wednesday night, they were trying to test some kind of sound thing...and needed someone to sing one of the songs during the practice...and I got to do that. And when I wasn't doing any of those things...I'd be sitting, reading a book or playing a game...with worship music going on in the background.
As I grew up going to Grace, as I got older, I started doing even MORE with the music ministry. I'd help with children's musicals (a couple times even dancing in the middle of one). I think I started popping into the choir to sing for Christmas programs starting when we got there. When I hit college age...I was notorious for not being able to come to choir practice on Wednesdays, but still showing up to sing on Sunday mornings. I'd run in to church, lip sync the songs through the first service, and by the second service, I could mostly sing all the songs (I generally just followed whatever the melody line of the song was).
But I've never seen my musical abilities as being all that great. My mom's studied music in college. My brother has been a drummer and has some awesome auditory skills (he's written entire songs from movies on the composing program we used to have on our computer after only hearing the song a few times). Even my dad sang. Me? I took piano lessons...but eventually didn't seem to be getting much better. When I was in 5th grade, I started playing the flute for band...and was put in the 2nd to last chair in the section. Then I switched over to bass clarinet...where I could be my own section...but there's not much of a use for bass clarinet...and I don't own my own instrument. I like to sing...but have a pretty decent soprano voice...but am generally too shy to let my soprano voice out when I'm around others. I do a lot on the outside of worship. But not much on the inside.
But apparently, even mixed in with the choir at church...I can still find JOY in singing. One of my all time favorite stories to tell is like that. A few years ago, that music minister left our church to move with his family to another state. For a few months, we had no music minister as the search began for the next one. In those few months, there were some rumors going around that whenever the new music minister came, there was a pretty good chance that choir would either not exist, or would be changing to something different...and many choir members were deciding weather to stick with choir or not. While the search continued, that spring, a couple volunteers from the choir came together and decided to help organize the choir to sing for a few last special services (mother's day, Easter, and Good Friday). The person directing the choir was also an elementary music teacher. Another volunteer played the piano and organized instrumentalists to play the backup for the song.
Good Friday evening that year, after practicing the song a couple last minute times, I started heading to go to the bathroom before the service started. As I was heading down the hall, the woman who was directing the choir stopped me and said "I just wanted to let you know how much I LOVE your smile!". I was confused. What smile? I wasn't just singing? Isn't it a cardinal rule of being on stage to smile and look like you're having FUN? She went on and told me how when I was smiling...she saw it...which made her smile. And when she smiled, it made the rest of the choir happy and smile. And that in return...would be going out to the congregation. I'm pretty sure for the rest of that Easter weekend, instead of smiling, I was making goofy faces at her.
But that wasn't the first time someone complimented me on what must be a God-given talent associated with singing and the stage. About 3 weeks after our new music minister started, I peaced out, and moved to NC. I think it was like my second week at my church in NC, while singing during the service, the person standing in the row behind me in the congregation randomly tapped me on the shoulder. I turned around and they said "Wow...you have a good voice!"
A few months after that, I had been helping in the nursery of my church in NC for a while, and I was getting coffee at the coffee shop at the church. The children's minister walked up to me and said "I've heard an interesting rumor about you recently"...I asked what that was...and she said "I was told that you have a very nice singing voice". A couple weeks later...I debuted in leading children's worship for the church.
Even just a few months ago, there was a scheduling issue on a Sunday at my retail job that caused me to not be able to go to Grace for church that Sunday. So...instead I went to my assistant manager's church. Two songs into the worship set and she was telling me how beautiful my voice was and was asking why I wasn't singing on a regular basis at church.
The truth is, about the time our newest music minister started (the one I left for NC about 3 weeks later)...I was dealing with a LOT of change in my life. I had graduated from college and worked at a job that I had wanted to quit after the first week. My friends were changing, getting married, having kids, and leading what seemed like "perfect" lives...sometimes even moving miles away. I couldn't seem to find a place to serve in the church...and with a new music minister, it seemed like my chances of doing anything more with the music ministry wasn't going to do much. I was feeling burned out from my church. I was feeling like the only ministry opportunity I had left was to help in the nursery. In a church the size of mine...I thought that was ludicrous that of ALL the serving areas...I was feeling like I was limited to just one. And about the time I probably could have inquired about what was available for me to try in music ministry with the new guy...I was offered a job in NC and ran off to try to find something different.
Over the last year, I realized that I've never really given the guy a fair chance. And...I've been meaning to look into trying to get into the music ministry again. Only this time...I guess I can't really just get grandfathered in because I'm the pianist's daughter (and awkwardly stalk the other people on the ministry). Maybe this time my ministry needs to be more based on the talent God gave me and not just my family connections. Ironically, my Bible study on Wednesdays is going to be taking a bit of a break for a while in a few weeks. Maybe that's the time I need to start going back to choir practice again.
When I'm fully into worship, though...and get that little smile...that's joy. The joy of my heart and soul reaching God's.
Oh yeah...and our music minister...is one of the guys who plays Fishball. It's an interesting way to get to know one of your pastors when you're playing a game where it's completely legal to throw a ball and hit one of the other pastors' children...and other members of the church for that matter.
Joy Unspeakable.
That's what I've been experiencing these last two weeks.
Sunday, August 30, 2015
Lessons From Inside the Fish
Strange name for a blog post. But (hopefully) by the end of this post...it will make sense.
But first...the moment everyone has been waiting for...my BIG news!
I GOT A NEW JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You know, this has been something that I've been praying about for some many weeks and months. I've had others praying about it too. And in my heart and in my soul, I have been feeling and knowing that somehow, sometime, God was going to do something HUGE. I just didn't know what. Or when. So now...here's the REST of the story...about how this came about (and eventually...I'll explain where the fish reference comes from).
As noted earlier in this blog...things have been quite hairy for a while. At the end of the 2013-2014 school year, I had finished working a job in Toledo as a 5th grade teacher. As seems to be the story of my life more recently...things didn't quite work out the way I wanted them to. Ever since entering college to become a teacher, I've always had the thought in my mind that I'd want to teach the upper elementary grades...4th or 5th...maybe 6th. In the state of Ohio, though, the only way to accomplish that (or at least back in 2007 when I entered college and declared a major) is to go into middle school...which covers grades 4-9. I never wanted to teach "middle school" just the upper elementary. Fifth grade in Toledo seemed about right. But I struggled through that position. By the end of that year, I was beat. I felt like I'd failed. I felt like somehow I must have missed all the big DON'T DO IT signs in my life through college. And with my hopes and dreams still in ESL and going back to Thailand, I made the assumption that maybe...that was God's sign that it was time for me to get OUT of the teaching field.
So I chased down my next dream. To go to grad school and work on that masters in ESL. Everything seemed perfect...if it just worked out my way. Well...as I said was my luck...things didn't go quite my way. I never found the full time job I was hoping to find that would help pay my way through grad school. I was able to afford the first semester from the money I'd saved while working my last teaching job. But...without a full time position...there was not much chance I'd be making the payment to continue in the spring. I applied for jobs last summer...and was met many times with the cruel luck that I'd get so far into an application process...sometimes even just a couple steps away from a life-changing position...and then it would fall apart. It happened several times. I finally took on a part time retail position to at least be able to pay my car payment and insurance. I gave myself the prayer that "if this is something God wants me to do...He'll provide the way". He didn't provide the way. A few days before I was to start my second class of the spring semester, I emailed my advisors at the college and told them I had to withdraw from my second class due to not having enough money to pay for the class.
With grad school now out of the question...I started getting more "creative" of sorts with my job search. In my mind...staying in NW Ohio to attend grad school was somewhat limiting my job possibilities. Without grad school in the picture...the majority of the rest of the US opened up as potential places to look for jobs. Desperately searching for ANYTHING (but trying to stay out of education...at least in the "normal" sense) I started applying. I had looked into a couple online masters programs...mostly in higher education. So...at first I started my search in colleges and universities. Nothing. Not even one interview offer. After giving up on that option, I started looking a little more directly into the missions field. I looked into several missions organizations...nothing. I emailed the director of Asia's Hope...the organization that helps run the orphanages that our church supports...some nice advice...but no job offers. I turned my attention to other states. My mom's sister still had offered to help house me if I found a job near her in Virginia...or I was pretty sure my grandfather would do the same thing in his area. Nothing. One job I even offered to come in for an interview during vacation. Never heard from them. Feeling a bit defeated...I turned to North Carolina and started applying for jobs there....assuming I didn't move back to Charlotte...I would be able to afford to move there. Again...nothing. THEN I got the great idea to start applying for jobs in the children's ministry area at several churches. Many of those positions required no more than a bachelor's degree and several years of experience. I had a bachelor's in education and had been attending Grace for more than 10 years. Surely...THAT would get me something? I did get offered one or two interviews. But in the end...nothing.
And all this job searching was going on while I was working a part time retail job. Some days not even sure if or how I'd be able to afford to pay my car payment or insurance. Money was tight. I know as a Christian that money shouldn't be that big of an issue. But I'm not sure where to look in the Bible to find the answers for a "26 year old with a 4-year degree, living in her parents basement".
At the end of July, we went on vacation. One extremely glorious vacation. You see...jealousy and I had become pretty good buds recently. Somehow, in the year 2015, my mom has managed to go traveling I think 4 times since this year began. Me? My last vacation was last July when I went to go visit my relatives on my own. For the last 365 days, I had not left Ohio. As mom went to Thailand, the Outer Banks, a cruise, and to Virginia...I was kind of jealous. As a part time retail employee...I don't really get a "vacation" time. Basically...I can take a vacation...but it goes completely unpaid. I just don't get paid for a week. So...don't want to do that too many times. But I was desparate to get out of Ohio. So...I requested off a week for vacation between the end of July and beginning of August to go to Virginia to visit relatives.
It was a fun trip. But every night...I was back at it with applying for jobs. I remember at one point, before heading to bed at my grandpa's house...ending the night in tears. It seemed like every job...in every state...that I looked up had nothing. In frustration...I started praying...telling God "I don't know what to do anymore. I'm tired of doing this my way. What could your way possibly be?"
In the car on the way back to Ohio from VA, I again was searching for jobs. And I came across a job on Indeed.com. It was a teaching position...at a Christian school in the same county I live in. The job was almost a month old, so I had no idea if they were still even hiring for that position. As much as I didn't really want to look again into teaching, I thought that maybe if I found a good school...or just a different school...that things would be different. However, before I could even apply for that position...I had another hurdle to jump. My teaching license had expired. I had looked it up earlier (before it expired) on what to do to renew my license. Long story short...for the teaching license that I have, my only option was to extend the license for free for one year...or spend $80 to extend it for 2 more years. Sitting in the car, using what was left of my phone's battery power, I put in my application to the DOE in Ohio to do the 2 year extension (finding out along the way that somehow I had a $20 credit...so it only cost me $60). My application was approved less than an hour later.
When I got home from vacation...I applied for the position. Nothing. But that began my search again into teaching again. As I told my sweet assistant manager later...I started wondering...what if a career switch never was God's intended plan for my life? What if that was just me trying to make my life a little more comfy? What if God had always intended for me to stay in the education field? So I began my teaching job search again.
After one not-so-great day, I ended up applying for 4 jobs in one night. 1 job was for another higher education position at a local college, 1 was for a charter school I had actually applied for the summer I moved home from NC, the last 2 was for the same family of schools...but 2 jobs at 2 different locations. The next day I had 3 voicemails. Both of the schools from the same family had called me for an interview. I scheduled one interview for that Thursday and one for that Friday. I felt pretty good about the one on Thursday. But the one on Friday I went in for the interview...and they offered me the job while I was there!
For the last 2 weeks, I have been working 2 jobs...working my last 2 weeks as a part time retail employee, and putting in as many hours as possible trying to get things ready for a new teaching position. The cool thing about this school is that it specializes in teaching children with disabilities. And...it is a co-teaching position. I have an Instructional Aide working with me to provide smaller group settings to give my students more personal attention.
As I go looking back on this past year...that may not have been what I thought it would be...I started wondering. WHY did that even happen? If I was never intended to leave teaching....WHY did God let me stray for so long...before handing me another job...yet again...in record time?
For the last year or so...I have found the story of Jonah quite encouraging. A couple years ago, after moving back from NC, I actually had the hopes and plans to speak at my college alma mater's Christian organization. When asked what I'd talk about...I had loosely come up with a slight parallel of my life to Jonah's. But now...it seems even more obvious to me than before.
Now, before I go on to my parallel between me and Jonah, I'd like to throw a disclaimer that I don't always have the BEST Biblical knowledge. So...some of my thoughts and ideas may be slightly off. Also...for some Biblical references...my best knowledge comes from VeggieTales or other children's lessons. So some of my information may be a little...juvenile?
So...for a recap...the Sunday School version of the story of Jonah goes something like this. God had asked Jonah to go to a certain city to teach. Jonah didn't like that city...and decided not to do that. And walked in the exact opposite direction. He eventually hopped on a boat...with plans on going in a completely different direction. But a storm came. To lighten the load, the people on the boat started throwing things over. When that didn't help, they decided that OBVIOUSLY...someone had made their god very mad and that's why they were in such a pickle of an issue. So they cast lots (I actually heard a story of this from Adventures in Odyssey while driving back from VA...casting lots is a really weird thing). Guess who..."won"? Jonah! And they tossed him over the side of the boat. God sent a big fish to swallow him and he stayed there for a few days. And after those days were over, the fish spit Jonah back up onto dry land. And this time when God told Jonah to go...he went where he was supposed to go.
I think in my life...I've experienced this same idea...but not a legit "fish". God has used some chapters in my life to redirect me. For example...I think that my year in North Carolina was a "fish". I don't really know if a future in North Carolina was ever the intentions for my life. I sometimes wonder if I was so desperate for a job...that when the opportunity arose to also move FAR FAR AWAY from Ohio...I jumped on it. I sometimes wonder if I hadn't taken that job in NC and just stayed in Ohio...how things would be different? I turned away, I tried, I cast my lots...and lost...and 365 days later...God plopped me right back into the middle of NW Ohio.
But really...I think this past year was another time of redirection. This time...literally...I think I turned my back on what God had asked. I have the wonderful spiritual gift of teaching...and after a couple failed attempts...decided to do something else. My "boat" I hopped on...was grad school. I cast my lots about staying in grad school...and lost my own bet. But in a strange way...God sent this sweet little retail job as my "fish". And after several months...where did I get "spit" back up to...teaching!
In my own way...I believe that just as God sent a legit fish to keep Jonah safe...He's also used NC and now this retail job for the last year...as "fish" in my life. There are a few lessons I've learned from these two experiences...that I think Jonah also experienced while in the fish.
Here are my "Lessons from Inside the Fish":
1. It's Safe.
Jonah was in a fish while in the middle of a sea. He was safe. In North Carolina, I was in my own "sea"...of trying to figure out what to do about a job. But I was safe within the sweet people that God had put in my life at the time...my life group. And in this past year...again...I was in a "sea" of financial and career-related uncertainties...but I was safe. When life was going crazy, I was in a safe place that God had strategically placed me in.
2. It May Stink.
For Jonah...literally. I don't really even like to eat fish...let alone live inside one for a few days. In both North Carolina...and this last year...I've been in some "stinky" situations between jobs and finances. Things seemed kind of stinky.
3. It Won't Last Forever
For Jonah...it was 3 days. For me...it was a year (each time). But out of 26 years of life...that isn't too bad. And it wasn't forever.
4. It Will Eventually Lead Back to God's Plan
Probably one of the biggest things I've learned over the last few years is trusting in God's plan. Everything happens for a reason...because God has it all under control. Why did I have to move 600 miles away from home, completely uproot myself...even find a new church....just to come right back a year later? Couldn't there have been an easier way for God to redirect me? Probably. But that was all part of God's plan. And why did God let me walk away from teaching, take on a retail job...just to plop me back into the teaching world again? Why couldn't I have just gotten a new teaching job last summer and skipped this past year? Not sure...but it was still all part of God's plan.
Friends, let me leave you with some words of encouragement. No matter what you may be going through...if it's what you thought you'd be doing or not...is not happening by chance. God has a bigger plan. Things will get better...this time won't last forever. And it's all part of His plan. It may stink...but you're safe where you are. Take some lessons from Jonah as he was sitting all alone in a fish. Perhaps the situation God has you in now...was the only way he was able to get your attention to redirect your path? Chin up, buttercup...God has you RIGHT where he wants you.
But first...the moment everyone has been waiting for...my BIG news!
I GOT A NEW JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
You know, this has been something that I've been praying about for some many weeks and months. I've had others praying about it too. And in my heart and in my soul, I have been feeling and knowing that somehow, sometime, God was going to do something HUGE. I just didn't know what. Or when. So now...here's the REST of the story...about how this came about (and eventually...I'll explain where the fish reference comes from).
As noted earlier in this blog...things have been quite hairy for a while. At the end of the 2013-2014 school year, I had finished working a job in Toledo as a 5th grade teacher. As seems to be the story of my life more recently...things didn't quite work out the way I wanted them to. Ever since entering college to become a teacher, I've always had the thought in my mind that I'd want to teach the upper elementary grades...4th or 5th...maybe 6th. In the state of Ohio, though, the only way to accomplish that (or at least back in 2007 when I entered college and declared a major) is to go into middle school...which covers grades 4-9. I never wanted to teach "middle school" just the upper elementary. Fifth grade in Toledo seemed about right. But I struggled through that position. By the end of that year, I was beat. I felt like I'd failed. I felt like somehow I must have missed all the big DON'T DO IT signs in my life through college. And with my hopes and dreams still in ESL and going back to Thailand, I made the assumption that maybe...that was God's sign that it was time for me to get OUT of the teaching field.
So I chased down my next dream. To go to grad school and work on that masters in ESL. Everything seemed perfect...if it just worked out my way. Well...as I said was my luck...things didn't go quite my way. I never found the full time job I was hoping to find that would help pay my way through grad school. I was able to afford the first semester from the money I'd saved while working my last teaching job. But...without a full time position...there was not much chance I'd be making the payment to continue in the spring. I applied for jobs last summer...and was met many times with the cruel luck that I'd get so far into an application process...sometimes even just a couple steps away from a life-changing position...and then it would fall apart. It happened several times. I finally took on a part time retail position to at least be able to pay my car payment and insurance. I gave myself the prayer that "if this is something God wants me to do...He'll provide the way". He didn't provide the way. A few days before I was to start my second class of the spring semester, I emailed my advisors at the college and told them I had to withdraw from my second class due to not having enough money to pay for the class.
With grad school now out of the question...I started getting more "creative" of sorts with my job search. In my mind...staying in NW Ohio to attend grad school was somewhat limiting my job possibilities. Without grad school in the picture...the majority of the rest of the US opened up as potential places to look for jobs. Desperately searching for ANYTHING (but trying to stay out of education...at least in the "normal" sense) I started applying. I had looked into a couple online masters programs...mostly in higher education. So...at first I started my search in colleges and universities. Nothing. Not even one interview offer. After giving up on that option, I started looking a little more directly into the missions field. I looked into several missions organizations...nothing. I emailed the director of Asia's Hope...the organization that helps run the orphanages that our church supports...some nice advice...but no job offers. I turned my attention to other states. My mom's sister still had offered to help house me if I found a job near her in Virginia...or I was pretty sure my grandfather would do the same thing in his area. Nothing. One job I even offered to come in for an interview during vacation. Never heard from them. Feeling a bit defeated...I turned to North Carolina and started applying for jobs there....assuming I didn't move back to Charlotte...I would be able to afford to move there. Again...nothing. THEN I got the great idea to start applying for jobs in the children's ministry area at several churches. Many of those positions required no more than a bachelor's degree and several years of experience. I had a bachelor's in education and had been attending Grace for more than 10 years. Surely...THAT would get me something? I did get offered one or two interviews. But in the end...nothing.
And all this job searching was going on while I was working a part time retail job. Some days not even sure if or how I'd be able to afford to pay my car payment or insurance. Money was tight. I know as a Christian that money shouldn't be that big of an issue. But I'm not sure where to look in the Bible to find the answers for a "26 year old with a 4-year degree, living in her parents basement".
At the end of July, we went on vacation. One extremely glorious vacation. You see...jealousy and I had become pretty good buds recently. Somehow, in the year 2015, my mom has managed to go traveling I think 4 times since this year began. Me? My last vacation was last July when I went to go visit my relatives on my own. For the last 365 days, I had not left Ohio. As mom went to Thailand, the Outer Banks, a cruise, and to Virginia...I was kind of jealous. As a part time retail employee...I don't really get a "vacation" time. Basically...I can take a vacation...but it goes completely unpaid. I just don't get paid for a week. So...don't want to do that too many times. But I was desparate to get out of Ohio. So...I requested off a week for vacation between the end of July and beginning of August to go to Virginia to visit relatives.
It was a fun trip. But every night...I was back at it with applying for jobs. I remember at one point, before heading to bed at my grandpa's house...ending the night in tears. It seemed like every job...in every state...that I looked up had nothing. In frustration...I started praying...telling God "I don't know what to do anymore. I'm tired of doing this my way. What could your way possibly be?"
In the car on the way back to Ohio from VA, I again was searching for jobs. And I came across a job on Indeed.com. It was a teaching position...at a Christian school in the same county I live in. The job was almost a month old, so I had no idea if they were still even hiring for that position. As much as I didn't really want to look again into teaching, I thought that maybe if I found a good school...or just a different school...that things would be different. However, before I could even apply for that position...I had another hurdle to jump. My teaching license had expired. I had looked it up earlier (before it expired) on what to do to renew my license. Long story short...for the teaching license that I have, my only option was to extend the license for free for one year...or spend $80 to extend it for 2 more years. Sitting in the car, using what was left of my phone's battery power, I put in my application to the DOE in Ohio to do the 2 year extension (finding out along the way that somehow I had a $20 credit...so it only cost me $60). My application was approved less than an hour later.
When I got home from vacation...I applied for the position. Nothing. But that began my search again into teaching again. As I told my sweet assistant manager later...I started wondering...what if a career switch never was God's intended plan for my life? What if that was just me trying to make my life a little more comfy? What if God had always intended for me to stay in the education field? So I began my teaching job search again.
After one not-so-great day, I ended up applying for 4 jobs in one night. 1 job was for another higher education position at a local college, 1 was for a charter school I had actually applied for the summer I moved home from NC, the last 2 was for the same family of schools...but 2 jobs at 2 different locations. The next day I had 3 voicemails. Both of the schools from the same family had called me for an interview. I scheduled one interview for that Thursday and one for that Friday. I felt pretty good about the one on Thursday. But the one on Friday I went in for the interview...and they offered me the job while I was there!
For the last 2 weeks, I have been working 2 jobs...working my last 2 weeks as a part time retail employee, and putting in as many hours as possible trying to get things ready for a new teaching position. The cool thing about this school is that it specializes in teaching children with disabilities. And...it is a co-teaching position. I have an Instructional Aide working with me to provide smaller group settings to give my students more personal attention.
As I go looking back on this past year...that may not have been what I thought it would be...I started wondering. WHY did that even happen? If I was never intended to leave teaching....WHY did God let me stray for so long...before handing me another job...yet again...in record time?
For the last year or so...I have found the story of Jonah quite encouraging. A couple years ago, after moving back from NC, I actually had the hopes and plans to speak at my college alma mater's Christian organization. When asked what I'd talk about...I had loosely come up with a slight parallel of my life to Jonah's. But now...it seems even more obvious to me than before.
Now, before I go on to my parallel between me and Jonah, I'd like to throw a disclaimer that I don't always have the BEST Biblical knowledge. So...some of my thoughts and ideas may be slightly off. Also...for some Biblical references...my best knowledge comes from VeggieTales or other children's lessons. So some of my information may be a little...juvenile?
So...for a recap...the Sunday School version of the story of Jonah goes something like this. God had asked Jonah to go to a certain city to teach. Jonah didn't like that city...and decided not to do that. And walked in the exact opposite direction. He eventually hopped on a boat...with plans on going in a completely different direction. But a storm came. To lighten the load, the people on the boat started throwing things over. When that didn't help, they decided that OBVIOUSLY...someone had made their god very mad and that's why they were in such a pickle of an issue. So they cast lots (I actually heard a story of this from Adventures in Odyssey while driving back from VA...casting lots is a really weird thing). Guess who..."won"? Jonah! And they tossed him over the side of the boat. God sent a big fish to swallow him and he stayed there for a few days. And after those days were over, the fish spit Jonah back up onto dry land. And this time when God told Jonah to go...he went where he was supposed to go.
I think in my life...I've experienced this same idea...but not a legit "fish". God has used some chapters in my life to redirect me. For example...I think that my year in North Carolina was a "fish". I don't really know if a future in North Carolina was ever the intentions for my life. I sometimes wonder if I was so desperate for a job...that when the opportunity arose to also move FAR FAR AWAY from Ohio...I jumped on it. I sometimes wonder if I hadn't taken that job in NC and just stayed in Ohio...how things would be different? I turned away, I tried, I cast my lots...and lost...and 365 days later...God plopped me right back into the middle of NW Ohio.
But really...I think this past year was another time of redirection. This time...literally...I think I turned my back on what God had asked. I have the wonderful spiritual gift of teaching...and after a couple failed attempts...decided to do something else. My "boat" I hopped on...was grad school. I cast my lots about staying in grad school...and lost my own bet. But in a strange way...God sent this sweet little retail job as my "fish". And after several months...where did I get "spit" back up to...teaching!
In my own way...I believe that just as God sent a legit fish to keep Jonah safe...He's also used NC and now this retail job for the last year...as "fish" in my life. There are a few lessons I've learned from these two experiences...that I think Jonah also experienced while in the fish.
Here are my "Lessons from Inside the Fish":
1. It's Safe.
Jonah was in a fish while in the middle of a sea. He was safe. In North Carolina, I was in my own "sea"...of trying to figure out what to do about a job. But I was safe within the sweet people that God had put in my life at the time...my life group. And in this past year...again...I was in a "sea" of financial and career-related uncertainties...but I was safe. When life was going crazy, I was in a safe place that God had strategically placed me in.
2. It May Stink.
For Jonah...literally. I don't really even like to eat fish...let alone live inside one for a few days. In both North Carolina...and this last year...I've been in some "stinky" situations between jobs and finances. Things seemed kind of stinky.
3. It Won't Last Forever
For Jonah...it was 3 days. For me...it was a year (each time). But out of 26 years of life...that isn't too bad. And it wasn't forever.
4. It Will Eventually Lead Back to God's Plan
Probably one of the biggest things I've learned over the last few years is trusting in God's plan. Everything happens for a reason...because God has it all under control. Why did I have to move 600 miles away from home, completely uproot myself...even find a new church....just to come right back a year later? Couldn't there have been an easier way for God to redirect me? Probably. But that was all part of God's plan. And why did God let me walk away from teaching, take on a retail job...just to plop me back into the teaching world again? Why couldn't I have just gotten a new teaching job last summer and skipped this past year? Not sure...but it was still all part of God's plan.
Friends, let me leave you with some words of encouragement. No matter what you may be going through...if it's what you thought you'd be doing or not...is not happening by chance. God has a bigger plan. Things will get better...this time won't last forever. And it's all part of His plan. It may stink...but you're safe where you are. Take some lessons from Jonah as he was sitting all alone in a fish. Perhaps the situation God has you in now...was the only way he was able to get your attention to redirect your path? Chin up, buttercup...God has you RIGHT where he wants you.
Sunday, August 16, 2015
When History Repeats
I've always had a knack for history, especially family history. And over the last few weeks, I've gotten to get a nice peak at how sweet history can be.
Within my family, extended family has always been an interesting topic to discuss. My dad is originally from New Mexico. My mom is originally from Virginia. We live in Ohio. Growing up, I didn't have the "traditional" grandparent experience that many of my classmates and friends had. While many were able to go to grandma's house whenever...sometimes grandma even lived next door or down the street...traveling to visit my grandparents was a LONG excursion...that we liked to call "vacation"! Getting together with relatives normally only happens during the summer months...unless some kind of event warrants the family getting together at another time.
Even with the distances between families, it seemed like we were much better at getting together with my mom's side of the family than we were with getting together with dad's side of the family. I don't know why that was...personally I'm going to blame it on the fact that my mom is a twin...so they have one of those freaky twin genes...which basically means they are NOT able to be separated for more than like 2 weeks at a time (before the use of cell phones and text messaging...they would call each other every weekend to chat...taking turns doing the calling so that no one was paying more for the long distance call than the other).
Whatever the reasoning, I've always been a little closer to my mom's side of the family than to my dad's. We'd see my mom's family pretty much every summer when we traveled to Virginia to visit them, and then again around Christmas when her sister's family would come up to enjoy the snow-covered wonderland called Ohio.
My mom's mom passed away in 1996 when I was only 7 years old. Much of the last few years of her life, I only remember seeing her in a hospital bed in her house battling cancer. But, as family photo albums and old stories go...my grandmother lived an amazing life. When my mom was in school, my grandparents owned a florist in their hometown. After closing the florist (don't know when that was), as a retirement job, my grandmother took on a job at Colonial Williamsburg as a costumed re-enactor. Re-enactors are the costumed people that go around those historical venues dressed and acting to portray life in the specified time period. Nana (as we called her) played the tavern keeper Jane Vobe at the King's Arms Tavern in Williamsburg.
I don't really remember much about it. I remember making trips to Williamsburg as a kid...we have the family photos in albums to prove that. Nana loved that job and playing her role of Jane Vobe. Even to today, though, as a 26 year old, I enjoy going to Williamsburg and exploring a place where my grandmother was once employed.
My grandmother's death in 1996 was, I believe, the first family death I had been through in my life. Nana had been sick and in a hospital bed for many months (possibly years...my measurement of time at age 7 was not always the most reliable). I remember that that summer, when we went to Virginia for our annual vacation, something was different. My mom was pretty sure that my grandmother would not be living much longer. So, part of our packing for that particular trip included black clothes. She was anticipating that (assuming God's timing would be convenient for us), Nana would pass away sometime while we were there on vacation. We may have needed to miss the first day or two of the new school year, but that would be okay. We spent probably a good week or so in Virginia...and she remained alive. Surprisingly, I don't think that was much of a relief to my mom. My first memory of one of my parents crying was on the way home from Virginia that year. I remember being somewhere in I think West Virginia (there were lots of mountains around us) when I looked over to see my mom crying.
We got home from that trip, and went to the first day of school a day or two later. The morning of our second day of school, as we were getting ready to head out the door, my uncle called...to tell my mom that my grandmother had passed away that morning. We went to school that day...and mom picked us up while I was at recess...and headed BACK to Virginia for the funeral. I don't remember crying that much. But I remember my brother being a complete wreck. It was such a sad time.
But the story doesn't end there.
Several years later (I think it was like 5 years), sometime around Christmas, my mom's sister's family was in Ohio visiting for their annual holiday visit. We were in Toledo at the local Barnes and Noble store. My cousin had dragged me to the children's area so she could ask the clerk to look up a specific series of book (that the clerk had NO IDEA what she was talking about). Trying to kill time while the clerk searched the store's computer system, I found a book to look at. I was a HUGE fan of the American Girl series. Ironically...as mentioned before...my mom is from Virginia and my dad is from New Mexico. Well...of the original American Girls, Felicity's story takes place in 1774 in Williamsburg, Virginia...and Josefina's story takes place in New Mexico! I was very interested in both of those dolls...and looked at everything that AG put out. While I was standing at the children's counter with my cousin, there was a new Felicity book on display that I was interested in. So...I picked it up and starting flipping through it. The book was called "Welcome to Felicity's World: Life in Colonial Williamsburg in 1774"...or something like that.
Now, you have to understand something. When I say I flipped through the book...that's exactly what I did. I don't believe in the whole "judge a book by its cover"...so instead...I flip a book open to a random page and look...then skip another 50 or so pages and look...to determine if the words are too big or too little, to take notice of the number of pictures...and overall, how the book looks. I started flipping through the book in my normal manner. My second flip got me to page 36 (again...something like that). And I stopped. This book had a bunch of "real life" pictures from Williamsburg. The page I was on was talking about tavern keepers and other jobs in Williamsburg. At the bottom corner of the page was a picture. And I thought...huh...that lady in that picture kinda looks like my grandmother (though I wasn't completely sure...her death had been years ago. And really, I didn't know if ALL people that portrayed Jane Vobe looked like my grandmother). I left my cousin....who was still asking the Barnes and Noble clerk to look up her wanted book series...and went to find my mom. Opening the book to the page, I said "Look mom!" and held up the open page of the book. I was going to finish that sentence with something like "...this lady looks like Nana!"...but before I could get another word out of my mouth after my "Look mom!"...my mom stopped, stared, and said "Oh my gosh...it's mom". She then took the book, found her sister and showed her. Before leaving Barnes and Noble that day...we bought all 6 copies the store had of the book. My mom sent one copy back to Virginia with my aunt's family to give as a gift to my great aunt (my grandmother's sister who is still living). The book was wrapped with a post-it note that said "Turn to page 36." We got a picture in the mail a few days after New Years of my great aunt seeing the picture of her sister in that book. And I was congratulated on my great find (and I stood proud that maybe my flipping through book idea wasn't that stupid...still beats judging a book by the cover!)
That is still one of my favorite stories to tell. But in the last few years, I have gotten the urge to look for other ideas. Over the last year or two, I have done numerous Google searches of my grandmother. With this day in age being the age of the internet, I was hoping to find that picture that had appeared in the AG book and find a plethora of more like it. Surprisingly, though, I never really found where that picture originated from.
Earlier this year (2015), I re-tried my search. I came across several possible leads and started looking into them a bit more. In I think March, I found two different possible publications that, although didn't include pictures, had my grandmother's name in them. Before pursuing those any further, one day while my mom and I were in the car, I mentioned the find to her. Apparently I misunderstood what she was saying. I guess my grandfather had given my mom a lot of information or history of some sort. It seemed like these two publications were already known to my mom. My search stopped for a time...as those were the only leads I had found.
A couple months later, we were again in the car, and somehow ended up on the conversation about my grandmother's history with Colonial Williamsburg. I asked my mom is she remembered me telling her about the publications (she didn't). As I began to re-tell her about those publications, my mom wanted to know more...and to find copies of at least one publication. The publication I was telling her about was a novel that, in the Author's Note page of the novel, included an acknowledgement to my grandmother. The book had been published in 1992, went out of print, and then was re-released in 2012 as an e-book only. After doing a lot of searching, I could only find the book in e-book format. Mom sent information around to others in her family...and within about 24 hours, pretty much all of her family that was interested had downloaded the e-book onto their e-reading device. I tried to send the author an email through her website, hoping to locate a copy of the book in print, but didn't get anything back. And...just for fun...I friended her on Facebook.
Feeling quite accomplished, I looked again for the other publication (a magazine article she had written in the 1990's about Colonial Williamsburg and women's rights in the 1700's). I was a little discouraged that this publication was not as rare as the novel. My aunt already had a copy of the magazine on her shelf. Now we have one too!
A few months later, I was still bugged about the whole novel thing. Back in 1992, there was no such thing as an e-book. But I couldn't find a single TRACE of this book anywhere. I couldn't imagine how a book was published in the 90's with no trace...and now back out as an e-book. So...back to my old friend Google I went. After searching a few used books sites, I found one that had a few books listed by the same author of the novel I was looking for. This author didn't write very many books...and most of the books were the same I had already seen available through the e-books. But then I realized there was another title that I didn't recognize. After doing even more research, I discovered that when the author re-released the book in e-book form, she changed the title of the book. I ordered a copy of the book...just to make sure only the title had been changed...and the acknowledgements hadn't.
When the book arrived a few days later in the mail (which I had faithfully tracked all the way to my doorstep), I quickly flipped to the acknowledgements page...to see that her name was still one of the first acknowledgements in the book. I took a picture of it to send to my mom...and then just for fun...posted that picture on Facebook. The next day, while I was on my break at work, the author (who...remember...is my Facebook friend) commented on the picture...recognizing her book! After several comments, Facebook messages, and emails...the author sent me 2 additional copies of the book...signed with a sweet note. One book is intended for us, the other intended for my mom's sister (or at least for the Virginia folks).
But I couldn't just stop there! Since I was STILL on a roll of finding things about my grandmother, I still wanted to find those pictures! If nothing else...I wanted to find the picture that had started all of my searches...the one in the AG book. The only photo credit in the book was to Williamsburg itself. Not knowing how else to do it...I decided to attempt to send them a Facebook message. I explained how I had found her picture before, how she had died 19 years ago, but I was still finding publications and pictures about her and asked where I could locate those pictures. And pretty much decided I would probably never hear back from Williamsburg.
This past week, I got a Facebook message back from Williamsburg. After a little bit of technical difficulty, they sent me an email with 9 photos they had taken during a photo shoot of my grandmother in the early 90's. Apparently they searched through many slides and files to find the pictures. I forwarded the pictures to anyone I could think of on my mom's side of the family and just today downloaded them into my Dropbox account and posted them on Facebook.
Ironically...as I was just finishing this story, I remember how a history professor I had in college commented during our class one time about how much he HATED re-enactors. I was always a little offended about that...since he OBVIOUSLY had no idea how important one re-enactor was to me.
There is a lesson to be learned from all of this. What you do today...although maybe not obvious at the time...could have an affect in the future. I sometimes wonder if my grandmother was still living...what she would have said when I found these things with her picture and name in them. Would she have been embarrassed? Did she think that sitting down to give information to a young author or taking some pictures for a photo shoot would eventually become a treasure hunt for her granddaughter?
I think about some of the pictures and things I've said in my life, and start thinking of their affect. There are some things that I PRAY never resurface 19 years after I die! But...there are others that I wonder if anyone would remember me for.
The Bible says (somewhere) that what the devil intends for harm, God intends to help us.
Back in 2010, after my battles with birth control meds, I began seeing a "Christian" counselor. I put the word Christian in quotes because it took me a little while to eventually realize that there wasn't much Christian in the counseling I was receiving. I saw this counselor for about a year. My family doctor had told me that my depression was coming from the affects of the birth control, and I was immediately told to get off of the pill. Within the next few weeks, things started looking up. My counselor didn't see me as a "high priority" patient...so I only went to the counselor every other week. After a few months of counseling, I started getting irritated with the counselor. We were paying the counselor per session out of pocket (it wasn't covered by our health insurance). I started realizing that what was supposed to be "Christian" counseling....was lacking in use of the Bible. I started paying attention to my sessions. We'd pray before our session began and at the end. The counselor had her Bible in her lap...but there was NEVER any passages in the Bible shared. Another words...I realized we were paying a decent price for me to have a bi-weekly vent session with a stranger. It's free to have a vent session with God.:)
As my doubts about the counseling continued to grow, I began digging deeper into my own relationship with God, even occasionally sharing verses that I had come across with my counselor! Yet...somehow...we still never consulted the Bible for any answers. I finally stopped my sessions about a year after beginning them after having a weird session with my counselor.
There was a name to the therapy she was planning on doing...but I now don't remember what that was. Essentially, the goal of the therapy was that although I seemed to be doing better on the outside, there was still some kind of underlying cause to all my issues on the inside that needed to be dealt with. (I actually learned something about this in our Bible study at church a month or two ago. Unless you go to a Christian counselor who uses the Bible as their main source of answers, apparently in modern psychology, there's this belief that there is some underlying reason for everything we go through. Counselors will continue to take your money and have you come to a session so they can keep searching for this reason...never really reaching that answer).
Basically, as my counselor described it, our job was going to be to summon the Holy Spirit, and have the Holy Spirit come show ME where all my problems were. Now...keep in mind...the only issues I had really ever talked to my counselor about were broken relationships and fractured friendships from my incessent clingy-ness from being on the birth control. Somehow...we were going to have the Holy Spirit reveal the reason I was having so many friends issues (a thought I'd been trying to figure out my whole life). The counselor went on to explain the process.
So...during my next session, we did this "therapy". The counselor prayed to ask the Holy Spirit to join us. I felt pretty uncomfortable. A lifetime of going to church and learning about the Trinity didn't make any sense to ask the Holy Spirit to join us. It was my belief that as a Christian, the Spirit was already there...living in my heart. Why were we asking it/him to come? It's like telling the guests in your house to come on in. After the counselor felt that the Spirit was with us...she asked it/him to reveal to me where my problems were. And we waited. And waited. I didn't know what was supposed to happen. Was a unicorn going to come down and whisper it in my ear? A few minutes later, the counselor asked me if the spirit had revealed anything to me yet. With the exception of my thoughts on what to have for dinner that night because I was hungry...I said no. So we waited longer. Apparently the Spirit would show it to me in it/his own way. Feeling even more uncomfortable and wanting to be done with this supposed "therapy"...I let my mind wander to the first thing I could think of. I told my counselor the Spirit had given me the answer and we stopped.
The only thing I could think of...was a picture I remember from 2nd grade. I remembered a few days after getting back to Ohio from Nana's funeral, being in my 2nd grade classroom. It was bad outside, so we had inside recess. I was still sad from my Nana's funeral and had my head down on my desk, sobbing. Two classmates came over with the teacher to ask if I was okay. I told them that my grandmother had died, put my head back down, and cried again as they walked away. Truth is...I don't know how I remember that from 2nd grade, but I do.
Before concluding our session, my counselor told me "so THAT is where all of this comes from. We will start digging into that at your next session". And prayed and ended the session.
Driving home from the session...I was mad. I had sought counseling because of broken relationships due to depression from a medication I had been on. Things that...at the time...had happened only in the past several months. And now supposedly that wasn't true and really my problems came from one experience of some 2nd graders not knowing how to comfort a classmate who had just lost a relative? How in the world could anyone even CLAIM that those two things were related? I had just started to heal from one set of wounds and now a counselor was getting ready to re-open other wounds that had finally healed years before.
I needed truth...so popped the CD of a local Christian band in my player in my car and began singing along. A couple days later, I told my mom I didn't really want to go back again to that counselor. When I called to cancel my next session with the counselor, I lied and said I'd decided to get counseling from one of the pastors at my church. Still concerned now that we'd "discovered" this root of the problems, she sent her well wishes and told me to make sure to tell the pastor what we had done.
I actually wonder now if it's from that counseling experience that spawned me to begin looking again for pictures and publications of my grandmother. I don't think it's the reason for any of my issues...but now it's a reason for my JOY.
Within my family, extended family has always been an interesting topic to discuss. My dad is originally from New Mexico. My mom is originally from Virginia. We live in Ohio. Growing up, I didn't have the "traditional" grandparent experience that many of my classmates and friends had. While many were able to go to grandma's house whenever...sometimes grandma even lived next door or down the street...traveling to visit my grandparents was a LONG excursion...that we liked to call "vacation"! Getting together with relatives normally only happens during the summer months...unless some kind of event warrants the family getting together at another time.
Even with the distances between families, it seemed like we were much better at getting together with my mom's side of the family than we were with getting together with dad's side of the family. I don't know why that was...personally I'm going to blame it on the fact that my mom is a twin...so they have one of those freaky twin genes...which basically means they are NOT able to be separated for more than like 2 weeks at a time (before the use of cell phones and text messaging...they would call each other every weekend to chat...taking turns doing the calling so that no one was paying more for the long distance call than the other).
Whatever the reasoning, I've always been a little closer to my mom's side of the family than to my dad's. We'd see my mom's family pretty much every summer when we traveled to Virginia to visit them, and then again around Christmas when her sister's family would come up to enjoy the snow-covered wonderland called Ohio.
My mom's mom passed away in 1996 when I was only 7 years old. Much of the last few years of her life, I only remember seeing her in a hospital bed in her house battling cancer. But, as family photo albums and old stories go...my grandmother lived an amazing life. When my mom was in school, my grandparents owned a florist in their hometown. After closing the florist (don't know when that was), as a retirement job, my grandmother took on a job at Colonial Williamsburg as a costumed re-enactor. Re-enactors are the costumed people that go around those historical venues dressed and acting to portray life in the specified time period. Nana (as we called her) played the tavern keeper Jane Vobe at the King's Arms Tavern in Williamsburg.
I don't really remember much about it. I remember making trips to Williamsburg as a kid...we have the family photos in albums to prove that. Nana loved that job and playing her role of Jane Vobe. Even to today, though, as a 26 year old, I enjoy going to Williamsburg and exploring a place where my grandmother was once employed.
My grandmother's death in 1996 was, I believe, the first family death I had been through in my life. Nana had been sick and in a hospital bed for many months (possibly years...my measurement of time at age 7 was not always the most reliable). I remember that that summer, when we went to Virginia for our annual vacation, something was different. My mom was pretty sure that my grandmother would not be living much longer. So, part of our packing for that particular trip included black clothes. She was anticipating that (assuming God's timing would be convenient for us), Nana would pass away sometime while we were there on vacation. We may have needed to miss the first day or two of the new school year, but that would be okay. We spent probably a good week or so in Virginia...and she remained alive. Surprisingly, I don't think that was much of a relief to my mom. My first memory of one of my parents crying was on the way home from Virginia that year. I remember being somewhere in I think West Virginia (there were lots of mountains around us) when I looked over to see my mom crying.
We got home from that trip, and went to the first day of school a day or two later. The morning of our second day of school, as we were getting ready to head out the door, my uncle called...to tell my mom that my grandmother had passed away that morning. We went to school that day...and mom picked us up while I was at recess...and headed BACK to Virginia for the funeral. I don't remember crying that much. But I remember my brother being a complete wreck. It was such a sad time.
But the story doesn't end there.
Several years later (I think it was like 5 years), sometime around Christmas, my mom's sister's family was in Ohio visiting for their annual holiday visit. We were in Toledo at the local Barnes and Noble store. My cousin had dragged me to the children's area so she could ask the clerk to look up a specific series of book (that the clerk had NO IDEA what she was talking about). Trying to kill time while the clerk searched the store's computer system, I found a book to look at. I was a HUGE fan of the American Girl series. Ironically...as mentioned before...my mom is from Virginia and my dad is from New Mexico. Well...of the original American Girls, Felicity's story takes place in 1774 in Williamsburg, Virginia...and Josefina's story takes place in New Mexico! I was very interested in both of those dolls...and looked at everything that AG put out. While I was standing at the children's counter with my cousin, there was a new Felicity book on display that I was interested in. So...I picked it up and starting flipping through it. The book was called "Welcome to Felicity's World: Life in Colonial Williamsburg in 1774"...or something like that.
Now, you have to understand something. When I say I flipped through the book...that's exactly what I did. I don't believe in the whole "judge a book by its cover"...so instead...I flip a book open to a random page and look...then skip another 50 or so pages and look...to determine if the words are too big or too little, to take notice of the number of pictures...and overall, how the book looks. I started flipping through the book in my normal manner. My second flip got me to page 36 (again...something like that). And I stopped. This book had a bunch of "real life" pictures from Williamsburg. The page I was on was talking about tavern keepers and other jobs in Williamsburg. At the bottom corner of the page was a picture. And I thought...huh...that lady in that picture kinda looks like my grandmother (though I wasn't completely sure...her death had been years ago. And really, I didn't know if ALL people that portrayed Jane Vobe looked like my grandmother). I left my cousin....who was still asking the Barnes and Noble clerk to look up her wanted book series...and went to find my mom. Opening the book to the page, I said "Look mom!" and held up the open page of the book. I was going to finish that sentence with something like "...this lady looks like Nana!"...but before I could get another word out of my mouth after my "Look mom!"...my mom stopped, stared, and said "Oh my gosh...it's mom". She then took the book, found her sister and showed her. Before leaving Barnes and Noble that day...we bought all 6 copies the store had of the book. My mom sent one copy back to Virginia with my aunt's family to give as a gift to my great aunt (my grandmother's sister who is still living). The book was wrapped with a post-it note that said "Turn to page 36." We got a picture in the mail a few days after New Years of my great aunt seeing the picture of her sister in that book. And I was congratulated on my great find (and I stood proud that maybe my flipping through book idea wasn't that stupid...still beats judging a book by the cover!)
That is still one of my favorite stories to tell. But in the last few years, I have gotten the urge to look for other ideas. Over the last year or two, I have done numerous Google searches of my grandmother. With this day in age being the age of the internet, I was hoping to find that picture that had appeared in the AG book and find a plethora of more like it. Surprisingly, though, I never really found where that picture originated from.
Earlier this year (2015), I re-tried my search. I came across several possible leads and started looking into them a bit more. In I think March, I found two different possible publications that, although didn't include pictures, had my grandmother's name in them. Before pursuing those any further, one day while my mom and I were in the car, I mentioned the find to her. Apparently I misunderstood what she was saying. I guess my grandfather had given my mom a lot of information or history of some sort. It seemed like these two publications were already known to my mom. My search stopped for a time...as those were the only leads I had found.
A couple months later, we were again in the car, and somehow ended up on the conversation about my grandmother's history with Colonial Williamsburg. I asked my mom is she remembered me telling her about the publications (she didn't). As I began to re-tell her about those publications, my mom wanted to know more...and to find copies of at least one publication. The publication I was telling her about was a novel that, in the Author's Note page of the novel, included an acknowledgement to my grandmother. The book had been published in 1992, went out of print, and then was re-released in 2012 as an e-book only. After doing a lot of searching, I could only find the book in e-book format. Mom sent information around to others in her family...and within about 24 hours, pretty much all of her family that was interested had downloaded the e-book onto their e-reading device. I tried to send the author an email through her website, hoping to locate a copy of the book in print, but didn't get anything back. And...just for fun...I friended her on Facebook.
Feeling quite accomplished, I looked again for the other publication (a magazine article she had written in the 1990's about Colonial Williamsburg and women's rights in the 1700's). I was a little discouraged that this publication was not as rare as the novel. My aunt already had a copy of the magazine on her shelf. Now we have one too!
A few months later, I was still bugged about the whole novel thing. Back in 1992, there was no such thing as an e-book. But I couldn't find a single TRACE of this book anywhere. I couldn't imagine how a book was published in the 90's with no trace...and now back out as an e-book. So...back to my old friend Google I went. After searching a few used books sites, I found one that had a few books listed by the same author of the novel I was looking for. This author didn't write very many books...and most of the books were the same I had already seen available through the e-books. But then I realized there was another title that I didn't recognize. After doing even more research, I discovered that when the author re-released the book in e-book form, she changed the title of the book. I ordered a copy of the book...just to make sure only the title had been changed...and the acknowledgements hadn't.
When the book arrived a few days later in the mail (which I had faithfully tracked all the way to my doorstep), I quickly flipped to the acknowledgements page...to see that her name was still one of the first acknowledgements in the book. I took a picture of it to send to my mom...and then just for fun...posted that picture on Facebook. The next day, while I was on my break at work, the author (who...remember...is my Facebook friend) commented on the picture...recognizing her book! After several comments, Facebook messages, and emails...the author sent me 2 additional copies of the book...signed with a sweet note. One book is intended for us, the other intended for my mom's sister (or at least for the Virginia folks).
But I couldn't just stop there! Since I was STILL on a roll of finding things about my grandmother, I still wanted to find those pictures! If nothing else...I wanted to find the picture that had started all of my searches...the one in the AG book. The only photo credit in the book was to Williamsburg itself. Not knowing how else to do it...I decided to attempt to send them a Facebook message. I explained how I had found her picture before, how she had died 19 years ago, but I was still finding publications and pictures about her and asked where I could locate those pictures. And pretty much decided I would probably never hear back from Williamsburg.
This past week, I got a Facebook message back from Williamsburg. After a little bit of technical difficulty, they sent me an email with 9 photos they had taken during a photo shoot of my grandmother in the early 90's. Apparently they searched through many slides and files to find the pictures. I forwarded the pictures to anyone I could think of on my mom's side of the family and just today downloaded them into my Dropbox account and posted them on Facebook.
Ironically...as I was just finishing this story, I remember how a history professor I had in college commented during our class one time about how much he HATED re-enactors. I was always a little offended about that...since he OBVIOUSLY had no idea how important one re-enactor was to me.
There is a lesson to be learned from all of this. What you do today...although maybe not obvious at the time...could have an affect in the future. I sometimes wonder if my grandmother was still living...what she would have said when I found these things with her picture and name in them. Would she have been embarrassed? Did she think that sitting down to give information to a young author or taking some pictures for a photo shoot would eventually become a treasure hunt for her granddaughter?
I think about some of the pictures and things I've said in my life, and start thinking of their affect. There are some things that I PRAY never resurface 19 years after I die! But...there are others that I wonder if anyone would remember me for.
The Bible says (somewhere) that what the devil intends for harm, God intends to help us.
Back in 2010, after my battles with birth control meds, I began seeing a "Christian" counselor. I put the word Christian in quotes because it took me a little while to eventually realize that there wasn't much Christian in the counseling I was receiving. I saw this counselor for about a year. My family doctor had told me that my depression was coming from the affects of the birth control, and I was immediately told to get off of the pill. Within the next few weeks, things started looking up. My counselor didn't see me as a "high priority" patient...so I only went to the counselor every other week. After a few months of counseling, I started getting irritated with the counselor. We were paying the counselor per session out of pocket (it wasn't covered by our health insurance). I started realizing that what was supposed to be "Christian" counseling....was lacking in use of the Bible. I started paying attention to my sessions. We'd pray before our session began and at the end. The counselor had her Bible in her lap...but there was NEVER any passages in the Bible shared. Another words...I realized we were paying a decent price for me to have a bi-weekly vent session with a stranger. It's free to have a vent session with God.:)
As my doubts about the counseling continued to grow, I began digging deeper into my own relationship with God, even occasionally sharing verses that I had come across with my counselor! Yet...somehow...we still never consulted the Bible for any answers. I finally stopped my sessions about a year after beginning them after having a weird session with my counselor.
There was a name to the therapy she was planning on doing...but I now don't remember what that was. Essentially, the goal of the therapy was that although I seemed to be doing better on the outside, there was still some kind of underlying cause to all my issues on the inside that needed to be dealt with. (I actually learned something about this in our Bible study at church a month or two ago. Unless you go to a Christian counselor who uses the Bible as their main source of answers, apparently in modern psychology, there's this belief that there is some underlying reason for everything we go through. Counselors will continue to take your money and have you come to a session so they can keep searching for this reason...never really reaching that answer).
Basically, as my counselor described it, our job was going to be to summon the Holy Spirit, and have the Holy Spirit come show ME where all my problems were. Now...keep in mind...the only issues I had really ever talked to my counselor about were broken relationships and fractured friendships from my incessent clingy-ness from being on the birth control. Somehow...we were going to have the Holy Spirit reveal the reason I was having so many friends issues (a thought I'd been trying to figure out my whole life). The counselor went on to explain the process.
So...during my next session, we did this "therapy". The counselor prayed to ask the Holy Spirit to join us. I felt pretty uncomfortable. A lifetime of going to church and learning about the Trinity didn't make any sense to ask the Holy Spirit to join us. It was my belief that as a Christian, the Spirit was already there...living in my heart. Why were we asking it/him to come? It's like telling the guests in your house to come on in. After the counselor felt that the Spirit was with us...she asked it/him to reveal to me where my problems were. And we waited. And waited. I didn't know what was supposed to happen. Was a unicorn going to come down and whisper it in my ear? A few minutes later, the counselor asked me if the spirit had revealed anything to me yet. With the exception of my thoughts on what to have for dinner that night because I was hungry...I said no. So we waited longer. Apparently the Spirit would show it to me in it/his own way. Feeling even more uncomfortable and wanting to be done with this supposed "therapy"...I let my mind wander to the first thing I could think of. I told my counselor the Spirit had given me the answer and we stopped.
The only thing I could think of...was a picture I remember from 2nd grade. I remembered a few days after getting back to Ohio from Nana's funeral, being in my 2nd grade classroom. It was bad outside, so we had inside recess. I was still sad from my Nana's funeral and had my head down on my desk, sobbing. Two classmates came over with the teacher to ask if I was okay. I told them that my grandmother had died, put my head back down, and cried again as they walked away. Truth is...I don't know how I remember that from 2nd grade, but I do.
Before concluding our session, my counselor told me "so THAT is where all of this comes from. We will start digging into that at your next session". And prayed and ended the session.
Driving home from the session...I was mad. I had sought counseling because of broken relationships due to depression from a medication I had been on. Things that...at the time...had happened only in the past several months. And now supposedly that wasn't true and really my problems came from one experience of some 2nd graders not knowing how to comfort a classmate who had just lost a relative? How in the world could anyone even CLAIM that those two things were related? I had just started to heal from one set of wounds and now a counselor was getting ready to re-open other wounds that had finally healed years before.
I needed truth...so popped the CD of a local Christian band in my player in my car and began singing along. A couple days later, I told my mom I didn't really want to go back again to that counselor. When I called to cancel my next session with the counselor, I lied and said I'd decided to get counseling from one of the pastors at my church. Still concerned now that we'd "discovered" this root of the problems, she sent her well wishes and told me to make sure to tell the pastor what we had done.
I actually wonder now if it's from that counseling experience that spawned me to begin looking again for pictures and publications of my grandmother. I don't think it's the reason for any of my issues...but now it's a reason for my JOY.
Sunday, July 12, 2015
Adventures in Tablet Buying
You know how the saying goes...where there's a will...there's a way.
Well...I have a willingness...and now I've found my way.
Computers and I have always had a very interesting history. My computer buying experience begins in 2007, after I graduated from high school.
While we were growing up, my parents taught my brother and I the importance of saving money. We even each had a bank account growing up at the local bank in our small Ohio town starting in elementary school. Throughout my growing up years, I remember being taught the importance of saving...as well as the importance of tithing to the church. Over my several years growing up and making some-what regular deposits into my bank account, I had accumulated a pretty decent amount of money (at least it seemed like a lot to my 18-year-old self at the time).
Over the years that we banked at the bank in our town, though, although the bank building stayed the same...the banking institutions that came and went changed several times. By the time I was graduating from high school, the most recent bank institution to enter the stone building in our town's downtown didn't have the greatest of rates. So, when I graduated the decision was made that I would be taking my money that I got from graduation and opening a checking and a savings account with the credit union that my mom had begun using. Conveniently located right behind the hospital she was currently working for. (A few years later, I also opened up a credit card account through the bank after a not-so-great experience with another major credit card company). My mom had told me that when I opened up that account, I would then be able to use whatever money was in the town's bank account to shop for a laptop for college.
So, in 2007, I began my first computer search. I was hoping to stay in a budget of around $500. At that time, however, desktop computers were still all the rage...and laptops were pretty pricey. My mom's sister's husband (my uncle...for anyone that couldn't figure out the family tree) has worked for an electronics company for many years and was able to provide some thoughts of what we'd be wanting to look for in a new computer. In the end...there were only a few options available. I ended up buying an Acer laptop from Circuit City (FYI...Circuit City is no longer in business). Life was grand...or so it seemed.
My first year of college, my laptop saw all sorts of issues. My college was not very "wireless" yet in 2007, so an ethernet cable was required to connect to the internet on campus. At one point of living on campus, my roommate and I had decided to arrange our beds in such a way that the only way for my roommate to get into her bed...was to climb on mine first. One time, as she was stepping down, her foot was a little close to my computer...and somehow a small piece of the ethernet port on my laptop broke off. That was eventually "fixed" in some sort with a little USB-powered device that provided a new ethernet port. Over the next year or so, though, my computer began to go slower and slower. Now...this was probably the first major electronics purchase I had ever made in my life...so to me a slow laptop was better than no laptop (plus enduring YEARS of having only dial-up internet service helped me be a TAD more patient with the computer). The Acer computer lasted through my sophomore year...but by the end of the year, it was apparent that something was wrong with the computer.
As I was getting ready to head into my junior year of college, I was going to be moving back to college early to be working for my 2nd year as a summer Orientation Leader at my college. About 2 weeks before moving back to school to do more OL work, my mom suggested that I take my laptop to a computer shop in the next town over. The shop was advertising a $25 computer diagnostic. I took the computer to them, paid the money (still seemed kind of high for my college kid finances), told them the "symptoms" my computer was having, and then waited to hear from them. They called a couple days later. The issue? The motherboard on the laptop was failing. Really, the only thing they could recommend was to buy a new laptop. (They basically said that they COULD try sending the laptop back to the manufacturer, however, the warranty had expired so I'd be paying to ship it there, for whatever parts and service, and to ship it back...probably ending up being more than just replacing the whole thing).
So, less than a week before heading back off to school for my junior year, my mom and I ran to the nearest Best Buy store to find me a new computer. Again, we were armed with suggestions of what to look for from my uncle. With a little help from the nice people at Best Buy, we ended up buying a new HP laptop. That time, there were several more options of laptops in the $500 range. If I remember correctly, since this wasn't an expected expense, I believe between my mom and I...we used about 5 methods of payments to cover the costs.
The HP laptop seemed SO much better than the old Acer (which...I later did a "Consumer Reports" search on...most people with that same Acer laptop had reported similar issues happening. Shortly after the warranty expired, major issues would happen with the computer, resulting in Acer not willing to cover the issues and the person replacing the computer). The HP laptop got me through the rest of my college career and into my first teaching job...a total of about 3 years.
In 2012, as I was moving to North Carolina, I noticed that my laptop was getting slow. Within the first week of being in NC, as my mom was still with me to help me move in, the battery on the laptop started giving in. I remember ending up running to a local battery shop in NC to buy a new laptop battery for the computer which seemed to do the trick for a while. The laptop had also started getting really hot when it was running. For years, my dad had been telling me how it's not good for a laptop to sit on a bed, desk, or human legs. For best performance, it NEEDED to be on one of those laptop/lap desk things (though I had plenty of people that told me that wasn't exactly true). But the laptop was getting so hot, I had to put either a blanket or pillow between it and my legs to make sure I didn't get burned. A couple weeks after moving to NC, I was sitting in my apartment watching Netflix (I bought a Wii a few months later with some unexpected Christmas money). In the middle of the show I was watching on Netflix, my computer froze, then turned off. I took that as God's sign to me that maybe 5 hours of watching "Bones" on Netflix was enough...and left the computer off and went to bed. The next day, I turned the computer back on and everything seemed to be alright again. For another week, at least. A week later, the same thing happened. At this point, I was already feeling over my head with stuff going on with my teaching job and being 600 miles away from home. I called my uncle for an opinion. No one seemed to know what was going on.
Again, I turned the computer back on after giving it a chance to cool back down. Two hours later, it turned off again. This time, I called my mom...in tears. I was 600 miles away from home. One of my major ways of staying in communication with people from home was through Facebook (we didn't have smart phones yet). My computer was necessary. After another call to my uncle, I made my way to the nearest Office Max store I could find, who performed a diagnostic test on the laptop. The "symptoms" I was describing about the computer seemed to be like those you'd find if the computer had a virus. They ran the scan...no virus was detected. I was told that IF there was a virus on the computer, most likely it was so deep in the computer, that it would be impossible to detect and destroy. I priced laptops while I was at Office Max. The nice people at Office Max helped me find a good laptop, and even offered to transfer all of my files and information to the new laptop...as well as get the whole laptop set up and ready to go for me. Again...I was buying a laptop with little notice. After spending money to move to a new city...I was spending even more to replace my laptop.
A couple months later, when I went to visit my aunt and uncle for a weekend, my uncle offered to do some updates and wipe the harddrive of the old laptop for me. Of the laptops he was working on, my old laptop was going slower than any others...and my uncle also noted how hot to the touch the laptop was (another words...something was REALLY wrong with that thing).
The new laptop from Office Max...another HP...again...seemed so much better after dealing with all the issues of the one before. Things went great. And then last summer rolled around...
As I was applying for various jobs last summer, I ended up getting a semi-impromptu interview for a possible Graduate Assistant position at the college I was going to begin my masters at. I ended up getting asked to do an interview for the GA position on a day I was planning on being in Virginia for a vacation for myself. The interviewer offered then to do a Skype interview. On the day of the interview as I was making sure Skype would work right, I noticed that Skype was indicating that it was having issues working through my computer. Thankfully (in a way), the interviewer had to re-schedule the interview due to being sick...and I had my cousin help me find ways to make sure my laptop would run faster. Long story short...I didn't get the position.
As I was driving back to Ohio from Virginia, trying to get through the Washington, DC traffic before it got too much worse, I got another surprise phone for a possible job with an all-online school. As I progressed through the interviews for that job (and...I'll save you the curiosity...didn't get that job either), I realized that if I were to get that job...I didn't think my laptop would be cutting it. So...a couple weeks after getting home, we scheduled to have a guy from our church come to the house to take a look at my laptop and see if he could give any suggestions, make it run faster, etc. This is a guy who owns an at-home business working on computers. The guy from church stayed over for a couple hours, took a few programs off my computer that were not needed, and showed me several programs that I could use to try to keep my computer running faster. I remember, though, when he left, he didn't think he had really done much to make my computer run faster.
Over the last year, it seems like the computer has been running even slower. Even today, as I'm typing out this post, occasionally, the computer is slowing down just not working as well as it used to.
For the last two years, I've been trying to NOT spend everything that comes my way for Christmas and Birthdays. Generally for Christmas and birthdays, I do get some cash. As a kid, I was pretty bad about just frittering the money away. But the last 2 years, I've been making more efforts to keep the money so that I can buy myself something I wouldn't normally buy myself. Last year, I saved my money and then in April, took a trip back to NC where I had lived. The money was my spending money to use on my little vacation. Since I had worked at an upscale consignment shop, I went back there and bought myself some new clothes to work towards updating my wardrobe. I did the same this year with part of my Christmas money, but I still have money from Christmas, birthday, and several other places.
So...as I've been trying to figure out what to do with that money, I decided over the last couple weeks, that maybe...especially if God really is going to be calling me into the missions field...or even to another area of the US...it would be nice to not be buying a new computer a couple weeks later. Or...if nothing else...just in general...actually looking for a computer before I absolutely NEED a computer and am just buying whatever I can find first. I realized that I probably had enough to make a pretty decent dent on buying a computer.
Last week, my mom and I were out shopping before we were going to be meeting my dad for dinner. There's a new Costco store that recently opened and we went there (my mom got a membership there with my dad). We weren't really looking for anything at Costco, but I did see their electronics while we were there. So...I decided to just take a look for fun and see what was on the market and what price I was going to be looking at. My mom had bought herself a tablet a year or so ago and thoroughly LOVES it. So...after going through 3 laptops in 8 years...I thought it would probably be okay for me now to look into a tablet rather than a laptop. I ended up finding one that I liked that seemed to be at a pretty decent price.
We still had time to kill after getting out of Costco, so my mom suggested, since I was looking at tablets, since we were in the right area, to go to Best Buy and see what they had available. So, as I was at Best Buy, I managed to get a couple of nice people helping me, who were able to suggest a great tablet and some recommendations for some other things to accessorize the tablet. A day or two later, I went back on the Best Buy website, and just in a general sense, got myself a "price range" that I was looking at. I took the list price of the tablet and the keyboard that I thought I'd get. This particular tablet also has a Micro SD card slot so that you can expand the memory usage and I was planning on getting a Micro SD card for that use. I added all the numbers up...then grabbed all my money and added that up...and I was $100 short. I actually started praying about it this week. My goal, was that if I was to buy this tablet and if God really wants me to do it...somehow I'd be able to cover the majority of the price...not just 2/3 of it. I thought maybe God would bring a good samaritan my way to pay for the rest, a winning lottery ticket to blow up at my feet, or even to possibly sell some other unwanted and unused items for some extra cash. Nothing came.
For the last few days, I've been looking at various ways to afford this tablet. The other day, as I was looking for a couple things in my room...I came across an Amazon gift card from probably 2 Christmases ago...and loaded it onto my Amazon account. But at only $25, that still wasn't solving enough of my $100 shortage.
Just this afternoon, I decided to look again at the tablet. I had been thinking that I'd just buy the tablet and extra stuff from the Best Buy store...so that I knew I'd be getting what I wanted and excellent service. I noticed that if I bought the tablet through Amazon...it seemed a little cheaper. So...I went to the Best Buy site to compare (earlier when I compared the prices, it was about a $10 difference). Best Buy had put the tablet back at it's original price...making the Amazon price $30 cheaper! So...just for "fun"...I decided to put that in my Amazon cart. Amazon recommended pairing the tablet with a Micro SD card and a folio case...taking the price to about what I was thinking it would be at Best Buy. I really wanted a keyboard/case, though...so I replaced the folio cover for a keyboard...which turned out to be cheaper than what I had originally put in my "price range". And...I realized that the SD card they were putting with it...I could get by with a smaller one (I can buy an SD card many places...if I really want the bigger card, I can buy that later). I told my mom about the deal I was finding...and then realized I could save even MORE money...if I decided to get a blue tablet instead of a black one (seriously...who really cares what the outside of the tablet looks like?).
Put everything in my cart...and started doing the math. After subtracting the Amazon gift card, and my saved cash (which...I'll have to stop by the bank tomorrow and deposit)...the grand total that I'll be paying that's not accounted for? $17.55. My $306 order is going to be paid because of saving...mostly in cash...and I'm left to pay less than 20 bucks. AND...I signed up for an Amazon Prime membership a while back...so I also am getting FREE 2-day shipping.
No good Samaritan, no cash for unused items (though, I still have some things to figure out how to get rid of), and no winning lottery ticket blowing to my feet. Maybe it wasn't a HUGE sign from God. But with a little bit of faith, a little bit of patience...and a good calculator...I think this can still be considered an answer from God.
I should be getting my new tablet by Wednesday. :)
Well...I have a willingness...and now I've found my way.
Computers and I have always had a very interesting history. My computer buying experience begins in 2007, after I graduated from high school.
While we were growing up, my parents taught my brother and I the importance of saving money. We even each had a bank account growing up at the local bank in our small Ohio town starting in elementary school. Throughout my growing up years, I remember being taught the importance of saving...as well as the importance of tithing to the church. Over my several years growing up and making some-what regular deposits into my bank account, I had accumulated a pretty decent amount of money (at least it seemed like a lot to my 18-year-old self at the time).
Over the years that we banked at the bank in our town, though, although the bank building stayed the same...the banking institutions that came and went changed several times. By the time I was graduating from high school, the most recent bank institution to enter the stone building in our town's downtown didn't have the greatest of rates. So, when I graduated the decision was made that I would be taking my money that I got from graduation and opening a checking and a savings account with the credit union that my mom had begun using. Conveniently located right behind the hospital she was currently working for. (A few years later, I also opened up a credit card account through the bank after a not-so-great experience with another major credit card company). My mom had told me that when I opened up that account, I would then be able to use whatever money was in the town's bank account to shop for a laptop for college.
So, in 2007, I began my first computer search. I was hoping to stay in a budget of around $500. At that time, however, desktop computers were still all the rage...and laptops were pretty pricey. My mom's sister's husband (my uncle...for anyone that couldn't figure out the family tree) has worked for an electronics company for many years and was able to provide some thoughts of what we'd be wanting to look for in a new computer. In the end...there were only a few options available. I ended up buying an Acer laptop from Circuit City (FYI...Circuit City is no longer in business). Life was grand...or so it seemed.
My first year of college, my laptop saw all sorts of issues. My college was not very "wireless" yet in 2007, so an ethernet cable was required to connect to the internet on campus. At one point of living on campus, my roommate and I had decided to arrange our beds in such a way that the only way for my roommate to get into her bed...was to climb on mine first. One time, as she was stepping down, her foot was a little close to my computer...and somehow a small piece of the ethernet port on my laptop broke off. That was eventually "fixed" in some sort with a little USB-powered device that provided a new ethernet port. Over the next year or so, though, my computer began to go slower and slower. Now...this was probably the first major electronics purchase I had ever made in my life...so to me a slow laptop was better than no laptop (plus enduring YEARS of having only dial-up internet service helped me be a TAD more patient with the computer). The Acer computer lasted through my sophomore year...but by the end of the year, it was apparent that something was wrong with the computer.
As I was getting ready to head into my junior year of college, I was going to be moving back to college early to be working for my 2nd year as a summer Orientation Leader at my college. About 2 weeks before moving back to school to do more OL work, my mom suggested that I take my laptop to a computer shop in the next town over. The shop was advertising a $25 computer diagnostic. I took the computer to them, paid the money (still seemed kind of high for my college kid finances), told them the "symptoms" my computer was having, and then waited to hear from them. They called a couple days later. The issue? The motherboard on the laptop was failing. Really, the only thing they could recommend was to buy a new laptop. (They basically said that they COULD try sending the laptop back to the manufacturer, however, the warranty had expired so I'd be paying to ship it there, for whatever parts and service, and to ship it back...probably ending up being more than just replacing the whole thing).
So, less than a week before heading back off to school for my junior year, my mom and I ran to the nearest Best Buy store to find me a new computer. Again, we were armed with suggestions of what to look for from my uncle. With a little help from the nice people at Best Buy, we ended up buying a new HP laptop. That time, there were several more options of laptops in the $500 range. If I remember correctly, since this wasn't an expected expense, I believe between my mom and I...we used about 5 methods of payments to cover the costs.
The HP laptop seemed SO much better than the old Acer (which...I later did a "Consumer Reports" search on...most people with that same Acer laptop had reported similar issues happening. Shortly after the warranty expired, major issues would happen with the computer, resulting in Acer not willing to cover the issues and the person replacing the computer). The HP laptop got me through the rest of my college career and into my first teaching job...a total of about 3 years.
In 2012, as I was moving to North Carolina, I noticed that my laptop was getting slow. Within the first week of being in NC, as my mom was still with me to help me move in, the battery on the laptop started giving in. I remember ending up running to a local battery shop in NC to buy a new laptop battery for the computer which seemed to do the trick for a while. The laptop had also started getting really hot when it was running. For years, my dad had been telling me how it's not good for a laptop to sit on a bed, desk, or human legs. For best performance, it NEEDED to be on one of those laptop/lap desk things (though I had plenty of people that told me that wasn't exactly true). But the laptop was getting so hot, I had to put either a blanket or pillow between it and my legs to make sure I didn't get burned. A couple weeks after moving to NC, I was sitting in my apartment watching Netflix (I bought a Wii a few months later with some unexpected Christmas money). In the middle of the show I was watching on Netflix, my computer froze, then turned off. I took that as God's sign to me that maybe 5 hours of watching "Bones" on Netflix was enough...and left the computer off and went to bed. The next day, I turned the computer back on and everything seemed to be alright again. For another week, at least. A week later, the same thing happened. At this point, I was already feeling over my head with stuff going on with my teaching job and being 600 miles away from home. I called my uncle for an opinion. No one seemed to know what was going on.
Again, I turned the computer back on after giving it a chance to cool back down. Two hours later, it turned off again. This time, I called my mom...in tears. I was 600 miles away from home. One of my major ways of staying in communication with people from home was through Facebook (we didn't have smart phones yet). My computer was necessary. After another call to my uncle, I made my way to the nearest Office Max store I could find, who performed a diagnostic test on the laptop. The "symptoms" I was describing about the computer seemed to be like those you'd find if the computer had a virus. They ran the scan...no virus was detected. I was told that IF there was a virus on the computer, most likely it was so deep in the computer, that it would be impossible to detect and destroy. I priced laptops while I was at Office Max. The nice people at Office Max helped me find a good laptop, and even offered to transfer all of my files and information to the new laptop...as well as get the whole laptop set up and ready to go for me. Again...I was buying a laptop with little notice. After spending money to move to a new city...I was spending even more to replace my laptop.
A couple months later, when I went to visit my aunt and uncle for a weekend, my uncle offered to do some updates and wipe the harddrive of the old laptop for me. Of the laptops he was working on, my old laptop was going slower than any others...and my uncle also noted how hot to the touch the laptop was (another words...something was REALLY wrong with that thing).
The new laptop from Office Max...another HP...again...seemed so much better after dealing with all the issues of the one before. Things went great. And then last summer rolled around...
As I was applying for various jobs last summer, I ended up getting a semi-impromptu interview for a possible Graduate Assistant position at the college I was going to begin my masters at. I ended up getting asked to do an interview for the GA position on a day I was planning on being in Virginia for a vacation for myself. The interviewer offered then to do a Skype interview. On the day of the interview as I was making sure Skype would work right, I noticed that Skype was indicating that it was having issues working through my computer. Thankfully (in a way), the interviewer had to re-schedule the interview due to being sick...and I had my cousin help me find ways to make sure my laptop would run faster. Long story short...I didn't get the position.
As I was driving back to Ohio from Virginia, trying to get through the Washington, DC traffic before it got too much worse, I got another surprise phone for a possible job with an all-online school. As I progressed through the interviews for that job (and...I'll save you the curiosity...didn't get that job either), I realized that if I were to get that job...I didn't think my laptop would be cutting it. So...a couple weeks after getting home, we scheduled to have a guy from our church come to the house to take a look at my laptop and see if he could give any suggestions, make it run faster, etc. This is a guy who owns an at-home business working on computers. The guy from church stayed over for a couple hours, took a few programs off my computer that were not needed, and showed me several programs that I could use to try to keep my computer running faster. I remember, though, when he left, he didn't think he had really done much to make my computer run faster.
Over the last year, it seems like the computer has been running even slower. Even today, as I'm typing out this post, occasionally, the computer is slowing down just not working as well as it used to.
For the last two years, I've been trying to NOT spend everything that comes my way for Christmas and Birthdays. Generally for Christmas and birthdays, I do get some cash. As a kid, I was pretty bad about just frittering the money away. But the last 2 years, I've been making more efforts to keep the money so that I can buy myself something I wouldn't normally buy myself. Last year, I saved my money and then in April, took a trip back to NC where I had lived. The money was my spending money to use on my little vacation. Since I had worked at an upscale consignment shop, I went back there and bought myself some new clothes to work towards updating my wardrobe. I did the same this year with part of my Christmas money, but I still have money from Christmas, birthday, and several other places.
So...as I've been trying to figure out what to do with that money, I decided over the last couple weeks, that maybe...especially if God really is going to be calling me into the missions field...or even to another area of the US...it would be nice to not be buying a new computer a couple weeks later. Or...if nothing else...just in general...actually looking for a computer before I absolutely NEED a computer and am just buying whatever I can find first. I realized that I probably had enough to make a pretty decent dent on buying a computer.
Last week, my mom and I were out shopping before we were going to be meeting my dad for dinner. There's a new Costco store that recently opened and we went there (my mom got a membership there with my dad). We weren't really looking for anything at Costco, but I did see their electronics while we were there. So...I decided to just take a look for fun and see what was on the market and what price I was going to be looking at. My mom had bought herself a tablet a year or so ago and thoroughly LOVES it. So...after going through 3 laptops in 8 years...I thought it would probably be okay for me now to look into a tablet rather than a laptop. I ended up finding one that I liked that seemed to be at a pretty decent price.
We still had time to kill after getting out of Costco, so my mom suggested, since I was looking at tablets, since we were in the right area, to go to Best Buy and see what they had available. So, as I was at Best Buy, I managed to get a couple of nice people helping me, who were able to suggest a great tablet and some recommendations for some other things to accessorize the tablet. A day or two later, I went back on the Best Buy website, and just in a general sense, got myself a "price range" that I was looking at. I took the list price of the tablet and the keyboard that I thought I'd get. This particular tablet also has a Micro SD card slot so that you can expand the memory usage and I was planning on getting a Micro SD card for that use. I added all the numbers up...then grabbed all my money and added that up...and I was $100 short. I actually started praying about it this week. My goal, was that if I was to buy this tablet and if God really wants me to do it...somehow I'd be able to cover the majority of the price...not just 2/3 of it. I thought maybe God would bring a good samaritan my way to pay for the rest, a winning lottery ticket to blow up at my feet, or even to possibly sell some other unwanted and unused items for some extra cash. Nothing came.
For the last few days, I've been looking at various ways to afford this tablet. The other day, as I was looking for a couple things in my room...I came across an Amazon gift card from probably 2 Christmases ago...and loaded it onto my Amazon account. But at only $25, that still wasn't solving enough of my $100 shortage.
Just this afternoon, I decided to look again at the tablet. I had been thinking that I'd just buy the tablet and extra stuff from the Best Buy store...so that I knew I'd be getting what I wanted and excellent service. I noticed that if I bought the tablet through Amazon...it seemed a little cheaper. So...I went to the Best Buy site to compare (earlier when I compared the prices, it was about a $10 difference). Best Buy had put the tablet back at it's original price...making the Amazon price $30 cheaper! So...just for "fun"...I decided to put that in my Amazon cart. Amazon recommended pairing the tablet with a Micro SD card and a folio case...taking the price to about what I was thinking it would be at Best Buy. I really wanted a keyboard/case, though...so I replaced the folio cover for a keyboard...which turned out to be cheaper than what I had originally put in my "price range". And...I realized that the SD card they were putting with it...I could get by with a smaller one (I can buy an SD card many places...if I really want the bigger card, I can buy that later). I told my mom about the deal I was finding...and then realized I could save even MORE money...if I decided to get a blue tablet instead of a black one (seriously...who really cares what the outside of the tablet looks like?).
Put everything in my cart...and started doing the math. After subtracting the Amazon gift card, and my saved cash (which...I'll have to stop by the bank tomorrow and deposit)...the grand total that I'll be paying that's not accounted for? $17.55. My $306 order is going to be paid because of saving...mostly in cash...and I'm left to pay less than 20 bucks. AND...I signed up for an Amazon Prime membership a while back...so I also am getting FREE 2-day shipping.
No good Samaritan, no cash for unused items (though, I still have some things to figure out how to get rid of), and no winning lottery ticket blowing to my feet. Maybe it wasn't a HUGE sign from God. But with a little bit of faith, a little bit of patience...and a good calculator...I think this can still be considered an answer from God.
I should be getting my new tablet by Wednesday. :)
Saturday, July 11, 2015
Style on the Inside vs. Style on the Outside
Over the last few weeks and months, I've had this feeling happening in my heart and in my soul. This feeling that maybe, just maybe, God is preparing me for a new path, a new direction, and potentially a new state! And as I said in an earlier post...no...I don't really have any "great" news to talk about. But somewhere in my soul, I just feel like something HUGE is coming my way. And...as (at least a portion) of the title of a song by Crystal Lewis says..."People get ready!" So over the last few weeks and months, I've been trying to do a few things to possibly get ready for this big move. Now...don't get me wrong. I haven't gotten any messages from God to completely sell everything I own for Him. But...there's something to be said about getting rid of some items that have just been collecting up dust for several years. Not gonna lie...at the same time, I see a practical reason to start cleaning up (besides a possible move in my future). I have too much STUFF.
To catch some up to speed a bit...last fall, I took a job at a retail store that specializes in buying your old stuff and reselling it. Yes, retail. I went from a career where my first job was to tell kids why they even needed to learn anything beyond 2+2, to a job where I (at least should) be trying to talk people into why they NEED that new shirt. Not gonna lie...I've never been much of a retail person myself. I took the job with the thought that this position would get me through maybe 6 months or so of employment as I began working on a master's degree, and then I'd find something full time and be gone. It's been nearly a year...and I'm still here. For the past several months, I have been looking for full time employment. As of the interview I did last week...that was the first interview I'd even been offered in 6 months. Surprisingly, though, this job has taught me some very surprising lessons.
So...in about April, I decided to start cleaning out my room. I mean...not gonna lie...many items I own I've had since college, moved from college back to home, moved from Ohio to North Carolina, and then moved back from NC to Ohio...and it is still there. So in March and April, I started clearing through some of that stuff with the idea that some of the items I would take to my workplace and sell it to them for a small profit. One thing that I had TONS of that I wanted to get rid of...several Vera Bradley bags and purses. After clearing through and deciding to only keep about 7 Veras, I took the rest to work...and ended up getting paid more than I thought I would. As I was driving home that day from bringing those items in, I started thinking. My Vera Bradley obsession began while I was in college. My sophomore year of college, I joined a sorority, and it seemed like EVERY girl in that sorority was a Vera lover. I made it to my senior year of college without buying a Vera (we did a Vera sale with the sorority at one point...and I was a little scared to see that most of the purses cost about half of my current pay of my part-time job on campus). Finally, sometime during senior year, one of the girls in the sorority ended up telling me that if I didn't buy myself a Vera before I graduated, that she was going to either give or buy one for me. (So...of course cheap-o me opted to not buy one!). That Christmas time, as my mom was looking for ideas for Christmas, I asked for a Vera purse. And now...every Christmas since...my mom has gotten me some kind of Vera purse.
Driving home after my Vera selling adventure I realized something. I had been using a brand of purses to try to "fit in" with a group of girls. I remember shortly after graduating from college, I had stopped at the same store I now work at and bought an almost-new Vera at a pretty cheap price. I was all excited and posted my "steal" on Facebook. And was pretty sad when not a single person "liked" my status.
As I've looked at some of the other items in my wardrobe and in my room...I've started to realize that some of the items I've held on to because somewhere in my brain, I think that if I just kept it long enough...maybe life would go back to an easier time. Before hormones. Before this hurt or that issue. If I just kept those purses...maybe all of my friends in college would become extremely close to me again! If I hold on to this shirt that no longer fits...maybe I'll be able to fit into it and look more like I did when I was a freshman in high school. If I lose enough weight and can fit back into that old dance costume...maybe I'll be able to go back to the days where 6 hours of dance classes a week were doable!
It's funny how many analogies about life I can make from things I've learned at this job. For example, most of the items we have in our store get an ink tag censor on them. In recent weeks, there's been a lot of discussions amongst us employees because there are some items that get a censor that are too thin, and actually end up with holes and tears due to the censor. Something that's meant to be a good thing to the garment, now has a hole. And...as many sewers and seamstresses could tell you...there are some things that can be "fixed". But...there are some holes that will permanently change a piece of clothing. It won't go back to the way we were. I see that in my life sometimes. I've tried to "censor" parts of my life...and due to hurts and past failures, there's a little hole. You can try all you want to cover it up, fix it, and sew it. But...it will never go away. It's always there. I think that's what some of my material possessions are becoming. If I could just fit into that top...maybe it will cover up the weeks and months of depression, hurt, and drowning myself in chocolate and Cheez-Its. If I could just fit back into that dress...maybe it would erase the hurtful words of that one friend. But...much like some of our items at work...it's never going to go back to that way. And sometimes...not having those things fit again is actually a sign of change!
So...my sophomore year of college, I bought myself this cute dress. I bought it at Fashion Bug (which...by the way...is pretty much out of business...or at least not in our area anymore). I wanted a new dress for Easter, and I also was going to my sorority's spring formal. That dress managed to be a good one for both of those events. I still had the dress (up until a couple weeks ago). For the last 2 years, I've been working to fit back into that dress as much as possible. I mean...in the years since I bought that dress, I've been through my fair share of hardships, changes, anxiety, depression, and the occasional over-eating. All those things have taken a toll on my body. I would work out, try to eat right, even became a Zumba instructor and began teaching my own class. And everytime I put that dress on...I still could not get the zipper to go all the way up! I finally stopped trying and decided to get rid of the dress once and for all after making a pretty big discovery. I could zip the dress up past my belly and my gut. The issue? The zipper wouldn't make it past my CHEST! Now...unless I'm the opposite of the Grinch and my heart is 2 sizes too big instead of 2 sizes too small...somewhere between age 19 or 20 when I bought that dress and now at age 26...my boobs had gotten bigger! Here it was that I thought the dress wouldn't fit because of my past...when really...that dress wouldn't fit because I have GROWN (physically, emotionally, and spiritually) because of natural causes.
As I've been clearing through some of the items in my room, I've started trying to ask myself about something. Each item that I am tempted to keep, I ask myself "is this an item that expresses me now...or is this an item that I'm holding on to...hoping that somehow my life will go back to an earlier time when things seemed easier?" One of my more recent goals is to get rid of a bunch of stuff from college. Not gonna lie...the majority of my non-dressy items have advertisements for either church, college, or the sorority. My goal has been over the last few weeks to try to get rid of some of those items and bring in new items. A couple years after graduating from college, I started to realize something about myself. I spent 4 or more years of college trying to "define" myself and painting a picture of myself...but my definition and picture was not the same as God's. All the way through college, I tried to tell everyone who I am...and failing. Because my description and definition were not God's. It wasn't until a couple years after college that I began seeing that. In the last 2 years or so, God has brought some of the most amazing people into my life. But there's something different about these people. They start seeing something different about me. If you go back to a couple of my older posts, you may see something about when I lived in NC. One of the things from living in NC that still has me baffled to today is what happened about 6 months after I moved there. I had been feeling like God was calling me to the missions field, but amongst other struggles I was having in NC, I don't really remember ever telling many people about that plan or goal. But about 6 months after living in NC, one of the guys from my Life Group randomly (or at least it seemed like that to me) asked me one day if I saw myself eventually living in another country. For pretty much the rest of of the time I was in NC, that person would keep asking me questions about if or when I was going to be moving over seas. The weird part is...except a couple random comments...I don't really remember saying much to my friends in NC about my missions trip to Thailand or my thoughts and dreams of missions work. So...I've started wondering how this person managed to figure that out and start asking me about it? Short of going too crazy about it...I've decided the answer is God. North Carolina was the first time I really think that "College Bethany" had worn off...and "God's Bethany" was starting to shine through.
I've been in my current job for almost a year. And the longer I stay here, the more I've realized just the amazing group of people that God has put in my life during this leg of my journey. Growing up, I've never been much for style and fashion. I've always been a pretty simple girl. In my opinion, as long as I have a pair of black pants and a pair of jeans...I can almost always turn one top into two different outfits. It's been funny to think about my style growing up. When I was in elementary school...I wore dresses almost every day...and got teased relentlessly for it. Once I hit middle school, navy blue was my color of choice (also was one of our school's colors...so it was like a 2-for-1 special!) and my "normal" outfit was: jeans, t-shirt, socks and tennis shoes, a hoodie, and my hair in a pony tail. When I got into college, I started doing a hybrid of the two styles...sometimes wearing jeans and hoodies...other times dressing up (I still stayed away from the dresses...except for special occasions). I've never really thought I had a style (unless "cheap" is a style?). But over the last couple months at my job...the ladies I work with have started to figure out my style. Just last week, one of the girls noticed I have been wearing a lot of dresses (calling it my "one-piece-wonder"...still not sure if I said that or not...lol) in bright colors. She had started to see my style...and knew my size (probably a dangerous combination) and had a dress pretty much in my size she thought I'd like and ended up giving it to me for free.
The thing is...I don't think some of the people that God's put in my life just understand my style on the outside...they get my "style" on the inside. I've learned in many different ways how God knows us beyond just what's on the outside (he knows the number of hairs on our head the Bible says). How much of the time is what we put on the outside a reflection of what our "style" is on the inside? I think about where I've been in the last few years of my life and where I am now. Brightly colored dresses are one of my new favorites. I don't think I'm enjoying those dresses for their one-piece-wonder appeal or to counteract the grey rainy skies in NW Ohio. Maybe...wearing those bright colored dresses...are my way of expressing the bright colors that are starting to appear within my inside "style". Last summer, I decided to chop my hair and dyed it. It's been over 8 weeks since my last hair appointment, and I've decided to start growing my hair out again and not coloring it. Over the last few weeks, I've not felt a need to change my hair color so that people can understand the change that is happening on the outside. If they see the change...that's great. If not...their loss not mine.
As I wait for my calling to my next chapter in life...I am working on finding ways to express the "new" Bethany. Why continue to carry "college Bethany" around? It's just added weight that I don't need. If God calls me to a job half-way across the country...do I REALLY want to be carrying memories from Tiffin, Ohio and Heidelberg University with me? Or do I want to lose that baggage and replace it with memories of the new-found friends I have made now? Do I really want to drag my memories from Elmore, Ohio and Woodmore High School to a new state and a new adventure? Even realizing that I didn't re-commit my life to Christ until AFTER high school? Will there be room in the U-Haul for all of that among all my single-living apartment items? Or won't it make more sense to cherish these memories and the people that see me for my inside "style"...and not just my outside "style"?
Let me end this post with a prayer:
Dear Lord Jesus,
Thank you for the amazing people that you've put in my life along this journey. Thank you for finding me the people that won't just offer me new clothes (and a little bit of peer pressure to buy them), but also the people that can make suggestions for my inside "style". Lord, as I (kind of anxiously) await what you will do in my life next, may I continue to remember that you've already provided so much for me right where I am. And Lord, help me to stop dragging along the older versions of Bethany from high school and college. The newer Bethany is so much prettier, smarter, and better than those! I pray, Lord Jesus, that over the coming days and weeks, that I can continue to work on getting rid of the Bethany I hoped I would become, the Bethany I wanted to be, and the Bethany that was just trying to fit in...and start embracing me as the Bethany that you've created me to be. And, Lord, I pray that anyone that reads this blog...even if they may not understand all of my inside jokes and thoughts...would be able to be touched by this message in some way. And now Lord as I get ready to go about the rest of my day, I pray that you'd send blessing and protection to all of those near and dear to my heart.
In your name I pray...
(and all God's children say...)
Amen
To catch some up to speed a bit...last fall, I took a job at a retail store that specializes in buying your old stuff and reselling it. Yes, retail. I went from a career where my first job was to tell kids why they even needed to learn anything beyond 2+2, to a job where I (at least should) be trying to talk people into why they NEED that new shirt. Not gonna lie...I've never been much of a retail person myself. I took the job with the thought that this position would get me through maybe 6 months or so of employment as I began working on a master's degree, and then I'd find something full time and be gone. It's been nearly a year...and I'm still here. For the past several months, I have been looking for full time employment. As of the interview I did last week...that was the first interview I'd even been offered in 6 months. Surprisingly, though, this job has taught me some very surprising lessons.
So...in about April, I decided to start cleaning out my room. I mean...not gonna lie...many items I own I've had since college, moved from college back to home, moved from Ohio to North Carolina, and then moved back from NC to Ohio...and it is still there. So in March and April, I started clearing through some of that stuff with the idea that some of the items I would take to my workplace and sell it to them for a small profit. One thing that I had TONS of that I wanted to get rid of...several Vera Bradley bags and purses. After clearing through and deciding to only keep about 7 Veras, I took the rest to work...and ended up getting paid more than I thought I would. As I was driving home that day from bringing those items in, I started thinking. My Vera Bradley obsession began while I was in college. My sophomore year of college, I joined a sorority, and it seemed like EVERY girl in that sorority was a Vera lover. I made it to my senior year of college without buying a Vera (we did a Vera sale with the sorority at one point...and I was a little scared to see that most of the purses cost about half of my current pay of my part-time job on campus). Finally, sometime during senior year, one of the girls in the sorority ended up telling me that if I didn't buy myself a Vera before I graduated, that she was going to either give or buy one for me. (So...of course cheap-o me opted to not buy one!). That Christmas time, as my mom was looking for ideas for Christmas, I asked for a Vera purse. And now...every Christmas since...my mom has gotten me some kind of Vera purse.
Driving home after my Vera selling adventure I realized something. I had been using a brand of purses to try to "fit in" with a group of girls. I remember shortly after graduating from college, I had stopped at the same store I now work at and bought an almost-new Vera at a pretty cheap price. I was all excited and posted my "steal" on Facebook. And was pretty sad when not a single person "liked" my status.
As I've looked at some of the other items in my wardrobe and in my room...I've started to realize that some of the items I've held on to because somewhere in my brain, I think that if I just kept it long enough...maybe life would go back to an easier time. Before hormones. Before this hurt or that issue. If I just kept those purses...maybe all of my friends in college would become extremely close to me again! If I hold on to this shirt that no longer fits...maybe I'll be able to fit into it and look more like I did when I was a freshman in high school. If I lose enough weight and can fit back into that old dance costume...maybe I'll be able to go back to the days where 6 hours of dance classes a week were doable!
It's funny how many analogies about life I can make from things I've learned at this job. For example, most of the items we have in our store get an ink tag censor on them. In recent weeks, there's been a lot of discussions amongst us employees because there are some items that get a censor that are too thin, and actually end up with holes and tears due to the censor. Something that's meant to be a good thing to the garment, now has a hole. And...as many sewers and seamstresses could tell you...there are some things that can be "fixed". But...there are some holes that will permanently change a piece of clothing. It won't go back to the way we were. I see that in my life sometimes. I've tried to "censor" parts of my life...and due to hurts and past failures, there's a little hole. You can try all you want to cover it up, fix it, and sew it. But...it will never go away. It's always there. I think that's what some of my material possessions are becoming. If I could just fit into that top...maybe it will cover up the weeks and months of depression, hurt, and drowning myself in chocolate and Cheez-Its. If I could just fit back into that dress...maybe it would erase the hurtful words of that one friend. But...much like some of our items at work...it's never going to go back to that way. And sometimes...not having those things fit again is actually a sign of change!
So...my sophomore year of college, I bought myself this cute dress. I bought it at Fashion Bug (which...by the way...is pretty much out of business...or at least not in our area anymore). I wanted a new dress for Easter, and I also was going to my sorority's spring formal. That dress managed to be a good one for both of those events. I still had the dress (up until a couple weeks ago). For the last 2 years, I've been working to fit back into that dress as much as possible. I mean...in the years since I bought that dress, I've been through my fair share of hardships, changes, anxiety, depression, and the occasional over-eating. All those things have taken a toll on my body. I would work out, try to eat right, even became a Zumba instructor and began teaching my own class. And everytime I put that dress on...I still could not get the zipper to go all the way up! I finally stopped trying and decided to get rid of the dress once and for all after making a pretty big discovery. I could zip the dress up past my belly and my gut. The issue? The zipper wouldn't make it past my CHEST! Now...unless I'm the opposite of the Grinch and my heart is 2 sizes too big instead of 2 sizes too small...somewhere between age 19 or 20 when I bought that dress and now at age 26...my boobs had gotten bigger! Here it was that I thought the dress wouldn't fit because of my past...when really...that dress wouldn't fit because I have GROWN (physically, emotionally, and spiritually) because of natural causes.
As I've been clearing through some of the items in my room, I've started trying to ask myself about something. Each item that I am tempted to keep, I ask myself "is this an item that expresses me now...or is this an item that I'm holding on to...hoping that somehow my life will go back to an earlier time when things seemed easier?" One of my more recent goals is to get rid of a bunch of stuff from college. Not gonna lie...the majority of my non-dressy items have advertisements for either church, college, or the sorority. My goal has been over the last few weeks to try to get rid of some of those items and bring in new items. A couple years after graduating from college, I started to realize something about myself. I spent 4 or more years of college trying to "define" myself and painting a picture of myself...but my definition and picture was not the same as God's. All the way through college, I tried to tell everyone who I am...and failing. Because my description and definition were not God's. It wasn't until a couple years after college that I began seeing that. In the last 2 years or so, God has brought some of the most amazing people into my life. But there's something different about these people. They start seeing something different about me. If you go back to a couple of my older posts, you may see something about when I lived in NC. One of the things from living in NC that still has me baffled to today is what happened about 6 months after I moved there. I had been feeling like God was calling me to the missions field, but amongst other struggles I was having in NC, I don't really remember ever telling many people about that plan or goal. But about 6 months after living in NC, one of the guys from my Life Group randomly (or at least it seemed like that to me) asked me one day if I saw myself eventually living in another country. For pretty much the rest of of the time I was in NC, that person would keep asking me questions about if or when I was going to be moving over seas. The weird part is...except a couple random comments...I don't really remember saying much to my friends in NC about my missions trip to Thailand or my thoughts and dreams of missions work. So...I've started wondering how this person managed to figure that out and start asking me about it? Short of going too crazy about it...I've decided the answer is God. North Carolina was the first time I really think that "College Bethany" had worn off...and "God's Bethany" was starting to shine through.
I've been in my current job for almost a year. And the longer I stay here, the more I've realized just the amazing group of people that God has put in my life during this leg of my journey. Growing up, I've never been much for style and fashion. I've always been a pretty simple girl. In my opinion, as long as I have a pair of black pants and a pair of jeans...I can almost always turn one top into two different outfits. It's been funny to think about my style growing up. When I was in elementary school...I wore dresses almost every day...and got teased relentlessly for it. Once I hit middle school, navy blue was my color of choice (also was one of our school's colors...so it was like a 2-for-1 special!) and my "normal" outfit was: jeans, t-shirt, socks and tennis shoes, a hoodie, and my hair in a pony tail. When I got into college, I started doing a hybrid of the two styles...sometimes wearing jeans and hoodies...other times dressing up (I still stayed away from the dresses...except for special occasions). I've never really thought I had a style (unless "cheap" is a style?). But over the last couple months at my job...the ladies I work with have started to figure out my style. Just last week, one of the girls noticed I have been wearing a lot of dresses (calling it my "one-piece-wonder"...still not sure if I said that or not...lol) in bright colors. She had started to see my style...and knew my size (probably a dangerous combination) and had a dress pretty much in my size she thought I'd like and ended up giving it to me for free.
The thing is...I don't think some of the people that God's put in my life just understand my style on the outside...they get my "style" on the inside. I've learned in many different ways how God knows us beyond just what's on the outside (he knows the number of hairs on our head the Bible says). How much of the time is what we put on the outside a reflection of what our "style" is on the inside? I think about where I've been in the last few years of my life and where I am now. Brightly colored dresses are one of my new favorites. I don't think I'm enjoying those dresses for their one-piece-wonder appeal or to counteract the grey rainy skies in NW Ohio. Maybe...wearing those bright colored dresses...are my way of expressing the bright colors that are starting to appear within my inside "style". Last summer, I decided to chop my hair and dyed it. It's been over 8 weeks since my last hair appointment, and I've decided to start growing my hair out again and not coloring it. Over the last few weeks, I've not felt a need to change my hair color so that people can understand the change that is happening on the outside. If they see the change...that's great. If not...their loss not mine.
As I wait for my calling to my next chapter in life...I am working on finding ways to express the "new" Bethany. Why continue to carry "college Bethany" around? It's just added weight that I don't need. If God calls me to a job half-way across the country...do I REALLY want to be carrying memories from Tiffin, Ohio and Heidelberg University with me? Or do I want to lose that baggage and replace it with memories of the new-found friends I have made now? Do I really want to drag my memories from Elmore, Ohio and Woodmore High School to a new state and a new adventure? Even realizing that I didn't re-commit my life to Christ until AFTER high school? Will there be room in the U-Haul for all of that among all my single-living apartment items? Or won't it make more sense to cherish these memories and the people that see me for my inside "style"...and not just my outside "style"?
Let me end this post with a prayer:
Dear Lord Jesus,
Thank you for the amazing people that you've put in my life along this journey. Thank you for finding me the people that won't just offer me new clothes (and a little bit of peer pressure to buy them), but also the people that can make suggestions for my inside "style". Lord, as I (kind of anxiously) await what you will do in my life next, may I continue to remember that you've already provided so much for me right where I am. And Lord, help me to stop dragging along the older versions of Bethany from high school and college. The newer Bethany is so much prettier, smarter, and better than those! I pray, Lord Jesus, that over the coming days and weeks, that I can continue to work on getting rid of the Bethany I hoped I would become, the Bethany I wanted to be, and the Bethany that was just trying to fit in...and start embracing me as the Bethany that you've created me to be. And, Lord, I pray that anyone that reads this blog...even if they may not understand all of my inside jokes and thoughts...would be able to be touched by this message in some way. And now Lord as I get ready to go about the rest of my day, I pray that you'd send blessing and protection to all of those near and dear to my heart.
In your name I pray...
(and all God's children say...)
Amen
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
Hey Look...you can follow me now!
This will be short, I promise.
So...when I started this whole blogging idea...I obviously didn't really know what I was doing! I set up the blog (well...at least the writing portion)...and mostly just shared a link for it via Facebook. Now, two years later...and absolutely NO ONE informing me that there is no way to follow my blog...I have finally figured out what the issue is. Haha...silly me. I actually had to ADD a button so that people can follow me!
So...if you'd like to follow this blog (which I'm starting to think about getting a little more regular at posting in), you have a couple options. If you are a part of Google Plus, you can add me through there (I'm still learning as I go, though...so if that capability is still not quite available...someone please let me know). There's something about Google Plus on the side of the screen when I look at my blog...I think you can follow from there? If you click the icon at the bottom of the blog (1+ icon), you can share the blog with others (I guess once you start following it yourself?). Or...if you don't want to bother with Google Plus...enter your email at the top of this blog and every time I update, you will get an email. Not gonna lie...I signed my own email up for the email alerts. Not sure if you get just an alert or the full blog sent to your email. But I'll find out as soon as I push the "Publish" button.
Oh the joys of ever-changing technology!
So...when I started this whole blogging idea...I obviously didn't really know what I was doing! I set up the blog (well...at least the writing portion)...and mostly just shared a link for it via Facebook. Now, two years later...and absolutely NO ONE informing me that there is no way to follow my blog...I have finally figured out what the issue is. Haha...silly me. I actually had to ADD a button so that people can follow me!
So...if you'd like to follow this blog (which I'm starting to think about getting a little more regular at posting in), you have a couple options. If you are a part of Google Plus, you can add me through there (I'm still learning as I go, though...so if that capability is still not quite available...someone please let me know). There's something about Google Plus on the side of the screen when I look at my blog...I think you can follow from there? If you click the icon at the bottom of the blog (1+ icon), you can share the blog with others (I guess once you start following it yourself?). Or...if you don't want to bother with Google Plus...enter your email at the top of this blog and every time I update, you will get an email. Not gonna lie...I signed my own email up for the email alerts. Not sure if you get just an alert or the full blog sent to your email. But I'll find out as soon as I push the "Publish" button.
Oh the joys of ever-changing technology!
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