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The little things & the rough days

Some days it’s hard not to let the little things get you down.

The snide remark that one of your kids shoots at you due to misdirected teenage angst, the e-mail reminding you that one of your brightest students got expelled due to behavioral issues, the fact that when you turned on your car to commute through a snow storm you were reminded that you don’t have heat and that you would be sitting in 12 degrees for the next 45 minutes…

It’s been a rough week around these parts and I admit that I’m guilty of letting things like this get me down. And yes, sometimes I’m guilty of making my home at the crossroads of Cynicism and Snark, instead of abiding with my Father as I have been called to do.

But just when the enemy begins to make me feel guilty, like I am subpar, both as a teacher and human being, it is then that I am reminded that God is there in the little things.

He is there when I roll my eyes at my students and when I cry out to him in my freezing car, sobbing because I feel like a failure for losing one of the students with whom I am closest.

He was there both when I opened my empty refrigerator this morning and when I was blessed by a complete stranger with a box of groceries and a King Soopers gift card this afternoon.

God is with me.

And as I sit in my empty classroom early on a Friday evening with the muffled sound of my students laughing at the movie they are watching in the next room, I am reminded that He is here in the little things. This is His ministry and things are all playing out just as they are meant to, both here and in my non-work-related-life (Ha! As if I have one of those…).

I serve a beautiful Creator who is always with me and within me, and for that I am grateful.

Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?”

(1 Corinthians 3:16)

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Thankful [1]

Every year, I see people do the daily “social media / thankfulness” thing where you post one thing that they are thankful for per day. I love this idea, but due to my inconsistent & crazy schedule, I’m not great at doing daily tasks like that (Honestly, I’m so busy that I’m lucky if I remember to get dressed every morning). So, instead, here is the first part of my list. These people, these things, these are what my hearts beats for and because of (in no particular order). Thank you.

1. Camille: I am thankful for you my beautiful sister. Thank you for walking beside me all these years. Thank you for loving me when I am bright and shiny, and dark and twisty. Thank you for putting up with my temper tantrums and crying voicemails. Thank you for being a strong, upstanding woman of God who I can look to for advice and strength. You are a brilliant inspiration to those around you and I know that God is going to take you places in this world. Thank you for loving me.

2. The gift of being single: In a culture that is consumed with hooking up and jumping from relationship to relationship, I am thankful that I have this season to find out not only who I am “alone”, but who I am in God. I hope that some day my future will include dating, getting married, and having a family, but for now, I am thankful that God has taught me to be content with being single.

3. My brothers: I am beyond indebted to the wonderful men in my life for their love and protection. From giving me their “okay” on difficult life decisions to helping me figure out how to change a tire, they are always there when I need a helping hand or a smack in the head. Matthew, Christopher, Kenny, Anthony, & Josh I hope you know how much I love you all.

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4. I’m thankful for the days when I am at my weakest. Those days when I know that I am unworthy of grace and broken… those are the days when I need God the most. And for days like that, I am incredibly thankful.

5. Danielle Gail Johnson: It’s been wierd learning how to live life without this girl by my side. The holidays are especially difficult because I know that your heart was breaking three years ago, so broken in fact that you took your own life. And knowing that you were broken and that we didn’t do enough to support you stings. Yet I am so thankful that you were put in my life, if only for a few seasons. Thank you for teaching me the value of life and the importance of loving the people that God has placed in my life, unconditionally.

6. The Denver Street School: No, not everyday is full of rainbows, puppies, and happiness. Yes, some days I leave work and cry in my car on the way home. But the fact that I get to work in a school where I can openly talk about God and His love for all of creation has been such a blessing in my life. Watching Him draw my students to Himself has been sublime. Plus, knowing that I get to work in the same ministry that God originally used to draw me to  Himself blows my mind everyday. I love praying with my co-teachers every morning and serving the community with my students every month. I am truly blessed to work where I do.

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7. My support team: I literally wouldn’t be able to do what I do if I didn’t have a great team of financial supporters and prayer warriors backing me this year. Thank you to those who help me to keep a roof over my head and pay my electric bills. I literally owe you my life right now, and cannot thank you enough!

8. The blessing of being a long-distance “momma”: I’m not going to lie; Saying goodbye to my babies sucked. I miss them everyday and would give just about anything to be able to get them ready for school every morning and tuck them into bed every night. But being a long-distance momma has taught me a lot about giving control of my life over to God. I have had to learn to trust Him in ways that I never would be able to if I had my kiddos living with me. I am reminded daily that my babies are God’s babies too and that He has a plan for them, for all of us really, that blows my nearsighted plan out of the water.

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9. Scum of the Earth: Moving back into the city & sliding into such a wonderful church body has been a blessing that I simply cannot explain. I am thankful for my Scum-bags (and baguettes), and all of the joy and wisdom that this church has blessed me with.

10. The imminent move: Knowing that this will be my last Autumn and Winter in Colorado for a while has made me appreciate all of the small things: the cool evenings, the slushy roads that I can puddle jump in after a snow, the BEAUTIFUL mountains, and the way the sunsets behind them… I know that I’m going to miss my home, but I’m so thankful that I’ll be leaving for a while, as it has taught me not to sweat the small stuff and to live in the moment.

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11. The International Phonetic Alphabet: Yes, this is incredibly nerdy, I understand that. But very few things make my heart leap like transcribing things into the International Phonetic Alphabet, and knowing that I get to do nerdy things like this for the next few years in grad school makes me so happy that I could squeal with joy. I can’t wait to see where God takes me with this.

lid mi tu ðə ɛndz əv ðə ərθ

12. Aurora, Colorado:  It’s weird to think that I am so in love with the city that I once itched to leave, but I am. I am thankful for the memories built there and the friends that I made as I moved through different stages of life there. I’m thankful for every weird experience and wrong turn that I made while living there because they all lead me to the place where I am today.

13. Broken relationships & reconciliation: There is no simple way to explain this one, but I’m thankful that God has given me an opportunity to fix the relationships that I have royally screwed up over the last five years or so. I serve a God of redemption and He has shown this in BIG ways in my life this year.

14. My mother: No, we don’t see eye-to-eye on most things… and no, our relationship is no where near where I would like it to be right now, but after all that we’ve been through over the last five years, I am simply thankful that she is alive. She’s tough as nails, and I am thankful for her strong, unconventional, fighting spirit.

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15. Relaxation: Tonight I am simply thankful for calm weeknights when I can light all of the candles in my studio, slip into sweats and fuzzy socks, make a pot of tea, and simply write for the pleasure of writing. It is a blessing to be able to relax in the midst of a crazy schedule.

[Part 2 of this list to come eventually… For now, I am going to finish this pot of tea and the book sitting by my feet. May your November be blessed and may you have the time to slow down and thank God for the blessings that surround us all. Love, Lou]

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18)

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Pharise[m]e

pharisee

A few months ago I was talking about personality types with one of my coworkers friends at lunch. She had recently been asked to take on an administrative-type role within the school that we work in and admitted that she thinks that she is too “type B” to be successful in that line of work. As a complete scatter-brain, I told her that I myself felt like I didn’t do well when I worked in administration, mostly because I am “so Type B that I’m almost type C”. (I stand by my statement; I’m sure that’s how that works.)

I am not a “planner” and honestly was only slightly successful in an administration role because of my flexibility and ability to adapt my actions when situations dissolve around me.

Don’t get me wrong, I love organization, but I don’t maintain it well over extended periods of time.

And while I appreciate rules, I have always been one to test my boundaries.

When you combine all of these character traits, it is obvious why I flourish in the semi-chaotic alternative school that I work in.

But I noticed a bit of an internal change when I transitioned from working within the school to teaching at the school full time– You see, as a teacher, I felt a new need to have my kids uphold “the rules”.

You know…

“Thou shall not cuss in my classroom.”

“Thou shall not punch thy classmate in thy face.”

“Thou shall not sleep with thy boyfriend, lest thee become pregnant and drop out of school.”

“Thou shall not smoke weed during morning break.”

The RULES of school.

This desire to “uphold” the rules is probably a result of a year of educator training in my licensure program and that feeling of teacher-ly responsibility for molding these young adults into fully functioning, responsible, morally upstanding citizens. (A weighty responsibility when you yourself are only 22 and have yet to actually understand how to buy your own health insurance or figure out how a mortgage works.)

Anyway, I tried and tried to force my students to uphold “the rules”, but in true teenage fashion, the more I reminded them of these weird laws the more they seemed to push back or just block me out entirely. For the last several months, I exhausted myself playing into this bizarre power struggle with my students over things that I honestly have minimum control over.

Then, my Gospel Community dug into the beginning of John 5.

After this there was a feast of the Jews, and Jesus went up to Jerusalem.

2 Now there is in Jerusalem by the Sheep Gate a pool, in Aramaic called Bethesda, which has five roofed colonnades. 3 In these lay a multitude of invalids—blind, lame, and paralyzed.5 One man was there who had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. 6 When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he had already been there a long time, he said to him, “Do you want to be healed?” 7 The sick man answered him, “Sir, I have no one to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, and while I am going another steps down before me.” 8 Jesus said to him, “Get up, take up your bed, and walk.” 9 And at once the man was healed, and he took up his bed and walked.

Now that day was the Sabbath. 10 So the Jews said to the man who had been healed, “It is the Sabbath, and it is not lawful for you to take up your bed.” 11 But he answered them, “The man who healed me, that man said to me, ‘Take up your bed, and walk.’” 12 They asked him, “Who is the man who said to you, ‘Take up your bed and walk’?” 13 Now the man who had been healed did not know who it was, for Jesus had withdrawn, as there was a crowd in the place. 14 Afterward Jesus found him in the temple and said to him, “See, you are well! Sin no more, that nothing worse may happen to you.” 15 The man went away and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had healed him. 16 And this was why the Jews were persecuting Jesus, because he was doing these things on the Sabbath.

In many other translations of passage, the phrase “the Jews” has been substituted for “the Pharisees”, which is actually a more accurate depiction of the people questioning Jesus and the man whom He has healed. The Pharisees were the Jewish leaders charged with upholding “the law”, and up until the moment when we read this passage out loud as a group, I had never been able to fully identify with someone charged with up keeping the law.

But in that moment, I felt like someone had dropped a ton of bricks on my chest.

I had become a modern day Pharisee.

It’s not a question of whether or not God works miracles in the lives of my students… I know He does and I’ve seen several students’ lives transformed by His grace and mercy just this school year.

Just like Jesus healed the man by the pool in Jerusalem, He has transformed the live of one of my “toughest” students who was addicted to drugs and teetering on the edge of gang life just three months ago.

And while I literally screamed and jumped up and down the moment that I found out that He had accepted Christ, I have relentlessly been nagging him and my other students about “the rules” just like the Pharisees nagged Jesus about healing someone on the Sabbath and then telling them to stand up and carry their bed.

“Quit cussing in class.” “If you stopped smoking weed, you wouldn’t be super lethargic and you could get your homework done.” “Get away from your boyfriend/girlfriend in the hallways.” “Blah blah, [Insert the annoying “adult voice” from the Peanuts comic strip here] blah blah.”

Why I continue to think that my rules are going to affect change in the lives of my broken students when they really just need Jesus, I don’t know.

But what I do know, is that I’m taking a bit of a new approach within my line of work.

No, I’m not going to stop addressing problems when they arise and I’m not going to speak the truth about life and the Gospel any less. (And students, if you’re reading this please don’t think that this is an open opportunity for you to punch your classmate in the face tomorrow.)

But I’m vowing not to sweat the small stuff and instead address the deeper issue at hand; the fact that we may be rebels and rule breakers, but that we were all placed here to glorify a beautiful King, and that nothing outside of Him is going to fill the void that they feel when they try to slap a band aid over a flesh wound.

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Oh, Isaac…

All Glory Comes From Daring to Begin

This weekend I had the incredible blessing of attending my church’s women’s retreat in Estes Park. For the last two days, I have “lived” in a beautiful cabin in the mountains with some of the most Godly women I know.

Yesterday, after a full day of hiking, relaxing, cooking, worshiping, and talking, we ended our day in a group prayer session in the living room. And as I sat praying on the floor, surrounded by my spiritual sisters, it hit me.

I LOVE my life.

Had you asked me if I was really, truly happy this time last year, the answer likely would have been no. I was licking wounds left by a rough break up, I lacked a support system, and had built my faith on an incredibly shaky foundation. I didn’t have a community of believers around me (Heck, I didn’t really have a community around me at all) and I had just moved back to the city after a year of living in my personal hell on earth– AKA “the suburbs”.

But now, a year later, most everything is different.

God has restored my life in so many miraculous ways that I still can’t comprehend. I have a small, but beautiful studio in the exact neighborhood that I wanted to live. I am working in my “dream job” at the Denver Street School. I have a great group of friends that only God could have brought around me. I have been able to reconcile things with my ex, and while I wouldn’t consider us “friends”, I no longer shake and burst into tears when I run into him around town. I have a church body that has supported me as I walked back into the darkness of my past, celebrated with me when prayers have been answered, and gently corrected me when I began to make dumb decisions. My walk with God is stronger than it has ever been and He has begun to open new doors for me, revealing new parts of His plan for my life.

One of those doors came in the form of a letter this last week: A letter announcing my acceptance into the Linguistics and Cultural Studies Masters Program at the Graduate Institute of Applied Linguistics in Dallas, Texas.

While I’m excited to see what God has in store for my future, it hit me last night that I don’t want to leave Denver. I don’t want to leave my family (biological or otherwise), my community, my friends, my students… my church.

I want to stay here.

I know that I’m being selfish, but honestly, it seems a bit unfair. The fact that I lived through hell for three years, and now that God has fixed everything that I screwed up, now that I’m happy… that I’m being called away? That doesn’t seem right to me.

The thought of leaving literally brings tears to my eyes every time I think about it.

But as I sat in worship this morning, crying pathetically, I felt God impress the story of Abraham, Sarah, and Isaac into my heart.

Abraham and Sarah waited and prayed for over half a century for God to bless them with a child. And when He finally did, God said,

Take you son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” (Genesis 22:2)

In comparison to my three years and my (mostly) self-induced trials, Abraham and Sarah’s plight seems unimaginable.

Having to wait between seventy and eighty years for a child, only to have God say, I want you to step out in faith and sacrifice your child whom you love… I don’t think that I could it.

I don’t know that I would have the strength or faith to say, “Yes, God. I trust what You are doing and because you first blessed me with this child, I will lay him down as a sacrifice, if that is what you want.” But somehow Abraham did trust God, and God honored that by calling out to Abraham at the last minute to say,

‘Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for I know that you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son from me.’ And Abraham lifted up his eyes and looked, and behold, behind him was a ram, caught in the thicket by his horns. And Abraham went and took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. So Abraham called that place ‘The Lord will provide’.” (Genesis 22:12-14)

In my head I know that my life is not my own. I know that I was put on this earth to live for God and glorify Him, but that doesn’t make those moments when God asks you to sacrifice what you love any less difficult or scary.

To be completely honest, I haven’t hit the place yet where I am actually excited to “lay down my Isaac” for the Glory of God… Yet I know that I am being asked to lay down my life here in Denver so that I can help spread His Word all around the world to the hurting and hopeless. Don’t get me wrong– I’m excited to be a part of His great plan, I’m just not thrilled that I have to give up the life that I love to go; At least I’m not thrilled yet… God’s clearly not done with me (thank goodness) and it will be interesting to see how He works all of this out in the long run.

Has God been calling you to lay down an “Isaac” in your life lately?

Whoever loves his life, must lose it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also.” (John 12:25-26)

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Do I know you?

This past week I had the honor and blessing of being able to see Carl Medearis speak at a Perspectives class near my house.

About half way through his lesson, he said something that I haven’t been able to get out of my head since:

Several years back, Carl was given the opportunity to speak in a mosque in Lebanon. As he was walking up to the podium, the shah who was introducing him, tapped him on the shoulder and quickly asked him not to speak of Christianity, but simply of Jesus. (In our American-Christian minds, these two seem inseparable, but in most people’s realities, they’re not. Muslims believe that Jesus was a teacher and prophet, just as Christians believe that He is our Messiah and Savior.) So Carl chose to speak about Jesus as a teacher, sliding in tidbits about His life, love, and Ultimate Sacrifice on the cross as he went along.

At the end of his 45 minute time slot, Carl had run out of things to say. He had told all of the parables that he knew off the top of his head and was feeling stuck, so he tried to end his speech. But when he turned to walk away from the podium, he looked down to see the shah twirling his finger in midair, as if telling him to continue. “Continue? But my time is up…” He mouthed aghast, when a man stood out his seat and shouted, “YES! TWO MORE HOURS!” As he stood at the podium and stared out at the room packed with people, a murmuring of agreement went through the crowd.

This mosque full of men was so enthralled with the teachings of Jesus that they were begging him to continue. But Carl, internally panicking knowing that he was out of words, politely declined his half-request, half-command to continue, prayed, and walked off the stage, with his head hung low.

“I didn’t know anything else about Jesus. I was a “professional” Christian, a man who had given up everything in America to follow Jesus to the Middle East and I only had 45 minutes worth of knowledge about Him– My “Everything”, my Savior. I couldn’t believe it, and I knew that I never wanted to be in that position again.”

As I sat in my chair listening to him recount this story, I was stunned. My first thought? Oh my gosh, could I talk about Jesus for more than 45 minutes? Probably not. I’ve been a Christian for over 6 years, and I couldn’t even tell you more than maybe five of Jesus’ parables, at least not without butchering them. My second thought? AHHHHH! I’m about to give up the life that I love in Denver to go to school to (hopefully) become a Bible translator and I couldn’t even tell you more than five parables right now if you asked me to! Crap!

Hearing Carl talk about these things made me realize a third thing also… albeit later on in my week: I need to stop being a passive participant in my quiet times with God. How often do I read my Bible and think, “Wow, that was nice”, write about it in my journal, pray about it, and then not do anything further than that?

This Perspectives lesson reminded me that it’s not just the job of missionaries or seminary students to learn scripture. As Christians, we should be unable to function outside of the word and will of God. We should constantly be looking at scripture for guidance, and then committing that to our memory so that we can bless others with the words of God when they need it.

As Christians, we need to learn the teachings of our teacher and be able to talk about Jesus as if He really is our best friend, lover, and everything, like we say that He is.

I never want to be at the point again where I can’t think of more than five of Jesus’ parables, or where I doubt that I could talk for more than an hour about the things that I have seen God do in my life and the lives of those around me.

Never again do I want to doubt that I really “know” Jesus the way that I say I do.

(Also, Carl Medearis tells the above story much more eloquently in his book Muslims, Christians, and Jesus: Gaining Understanding and Building Relationships. Check it out. It’s pretty rad.)