|
ChickofGod8
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Rebecca Eve
Birthday: 4/12/1985
Gender: Female
Interests: Books and nerdy things, being creative and handy, spending time with my friends, loving people (especially Jonathan), seeking God's will, becoming who God wants me to be.
Expertise: Thinking way too much.
Occupation: Student
Message: message me
Member Since:
1/12/2004
|
|
| There are some days when I just want to curl up next to Elisabeth Elliot and drink in all the wisdom that she gives. Or Amy Carmichael. Or any of those other people whose writings help me realize that I'm a colossal jerk, full of pride and selfishness, and show me the alternative, the beautiful Jesus Who loves me and offers another way.
I miss Dr. Schnittjer. I think Jesus must have sounded like him - soft, but so firm that you don't doubt it.
"It's not about you, stupid."
I still have that card on my wall, a reminder not only that it's not about me, but also of college. I kind of miss college.
I miss waking up and knowing that I have a table full of friends waiting in the cafeteria. I miss starting the day all together, and ending the day all together. I miss them, really.
And I miss Jonathan, a lot. The days are ticking away as we countdown to wedding, but it's still lonely without him, even with the promise of him in the near future.
I've been wondering a lot about priorities lately. I find myself in a public middle school as a real teacher. And I wonder how I'm doing. It's a lot to balance, really...trying to figure out how best to glorify God, be professional, love my students, make sure that they're not about to go over the edge and still, as the supposed focal point to it all, teach them to read. It's been tough lately, and I feel like I haven't quite got the right grasp on it. And then, of course, there are all the other teachers and administrators and staff members in the building, and some days it seems that finding a teacher who cares is as hard as finding a fellow Christian in the building. And I wonder how I'm doing on both of those counts.
I do miss that about teaching in a Christian school - camaraderie, knowing that there's a central purpose and goal, and a more or less agreed upon ideal of "what is best for the kids." But I don't miss some of the other stuff - doctrinal squabbles and bratty, over-sheltered students, to name a few. But my heart breaks for my kids with no shelter at all. And I wish I could spend the precious forty five minutes that I have with them helping them to know God more - and maybe I still can, maybe I am...I don't know. It just seems like a roundabout way to do missions - teaching kids how to read with no mention of Who invented language and created us to be communicators.
I want so much for my students to learn, I want so much to teach them well, I want so much to be the godly, professional teacher that they need. But sometimes I just still feel like a kid.
And today, I feel like a jerk. And I want to find a gently used, hardback copy of "If" to buy and soak up, since I can't actually curl up next to Amy Carmichael, or Elisabeth Elliot.
But I wish I could. I think I'll go take a nap instead.
| | |
| You know what? I'm a jerk. =(
| | |
|
Well kids, I guess it's about that time again.
The year in review:
January: Return from Urbana,
enjoy a longer than usual Christmas break, start the slow but sure process of
total rebuilding. Return to school. It is time to learn.
February: Getting well underway into last semester of class. Like everything
else, my class schedule was clearly ordained by the Lord. Each class has
something unique and pertinent to give. Absolutely love preparing for
Valentine's Day with two other firmly attached roommates; Jonathan, like
always, comes through big. He is the king of romantic dates.
March: I don't remember much. Class, papers, starting to enjoy life again.
Three months out of the darkness, life is looking pretty good. The Lord is
indeed faithful. Every stage has its purpose.
April: More school. Turn 22. Trek out to the (literal) middle of nowhere Indiana with two friends
to attend a most beautiful wedding. Continue to learn and grow.
May: Jonathan graduates with awards and honors. Move home from school for good.
Practicum at a local Mennonite school is challenging and remarkable. It's
incredible to consider where the Lord leads! Visit Fenway
Park for the first time
to catch Trot Nixon's return. Sox win; all is right with the world.
June: Thrilled to enjoy a real summer break, my first since 2000 without
homework. Host a party at my house for some close friends; Jonathan proposes in
true Jonathan form. Working at the Seminary again; thrilled to be able to
be at home, cooking and cleaning.
July: I love summer break. Jonathan and I visit
his grandmother in "typical southern smalltown" North Carolina. For the first
time, I feel like family. Can't thank God enough for Nana. I miss her when we
leave.
August: Rounding out summer break, getting ready for student teaching. Jonathan
gets real adult job with benefits. Things are starting to fall into place for
life together.
September: Begin student teaching, almost lose it. The Lord, however, is
faithful. It's a lot of work, but a good time. Niece turns one.
October: Jonathan moves away; I am happy for him, but growing impatient for the
time when we can just be together. First student teaching placement ends well;
lots of work, but a wonderful time. I miss my students. Red Sox sweep World
Series; all is right with the world.
November: Student teaching at a middle school, absolutely love it. I've found
my niche in seventh grade. Thanksgiving is seamless; nephew turns three.
December: Graduate from college with awards and honors. Feel accomplished, yet
ready to move on. Thrilled that I'm not a mess. Excited to be done with this
phase of life, though there is much about college that I miss. Christmas
is also seamless; Praise God! Infinitely better than last year. Ring in the New
Year with Jonathan and friends from church. Excited to see what the Lord will
do in the coming year.
Yes, this one is much less dark than last year. I suppose there's no way of
telling from year to year how it will be. The Lord is good!
| | |
| I finished student teaching this past Friday, I graduate on Saturday, and I become a wife in just over six months. Crazy. So much change in just a year.
So, there's a lot on my mind regarding employment, wedding, etc....but, really....I miss Jonathan. A lot.
Here's a picture of us last year at Urbana. We're in front of the Arch, by the Mississippi River. We had skipped the sessions that day to do some touristy stuff around the city. I had been physically, emotionally, and spiritually wrecked prior to the trip...Jonathan actually spent some good time giving me piggy-back rides through the city because I was so tired. We had a difficult discussion the night before that could have ended up being far worse. We had planned the day to find some things in St. Louis but it ended up being a day to find each other again. We really needed that.
This is my favorite picture of the two of us (I think) because I remember feeling cold, reeling from the world falling down around me and from me imploding, and I remember the toll that took on Jonathan and on us as a couple. At any point Jonathan could have walked away, but he didn't. He chose to love me and stick it out, even when I wasn't any good to him (my assessment...Jonathan says it wasn't quite that bad.)
He had already put up with so much, and in this picture, he's holding me close to keep me warm. Because he still loved me, and he still does.
Hm...I just realized that this could sound really sappy. Oh well. It's all true. Jonathan's love reminds me of Jesus. That's the way it ought to be.
 | | |
|  | Currently Reading
A Generous Orthodoxy: Why I Am a Missional, Evangelical, Post/Protestant, Liberal/Conservative, Mystical/Poetic, Biblical, Charismatic/Contemplative, Fundamentalist/Calvinist, Anabaptist/Anglican, Methodist, Catholic, Green, Incarnational, Depressed-yet-Hopeful, Emergent, Unfinished CHRISTIAN
By Brian D. McLaren
see related |
Is that really the right line? I'd look it up, but my browser is slow. I get annoyed at slightly misquoted quotes. Please forgive me if I've committed such an offense.
I wonder sometimes if I've chosen the wrong profession. It requires such an early bedtime...my mind swarms with activity if allowed to stay up late. Something about 10:00 gives it a kick. Now, the design is be asleep by then. Not tonight. Tonight, this needs to get out. It's been far too long.
This isn't really my long-term professional goal, anyway. That is the stay at home mommy idea. Raising little Rebeccas and little Jonathans....cooking, doing dishes, making the home. Ministering in and through the church.
There was a young man at small group tonight that was recently introduced to the gospel. He's not quite ready to make a profession, but is enthralled at the prospect. It is exciting to see him ask questions and revel in transparency. Too often, it seems, we train ourselves to hide rather than expose ourselves to others. Rawness is so refreshing.
I am teaching my seventh graders how to diagram sentences right now. I love it. Every part of it. The order, the precision, the art form. I love the complicated way that something apparently linear becomes exposed, is revealed to be multi-dimensional. I love that language is systematic. To study linguistics is to study beauty. I wonder about the tower of Babel sometimes when I teach ESL or even English as a first language. Out of nowhere, the Lord gave a multitude of languages to man. Such a gift! And so for our benefit. A punishment, too, perhaps. But he has allowed us to crack the code and communicate across those lines, even giving 'tongues' as a gift at Pentecost. It's all redemptive, it seems.
Communication. Ah, communication. Such an integral part of life. I miss Jonathan. It seems that these days and weeks and months are increasingly longer. Perhaps we just haven't figured out the rhythm of this stage of life yet. Perhaps it's just the longing to share a house, a bank account, a last name, each other. There is a definite, physical ache in desiring the other half of what will be two becoming one.
I used to roll my eyes at those girls. Those girls with pretty diamonds on their hands who would whine about how long they must wait to be married, while I sat, intolerably single, facing two roads: go it alone, or the unlikely wedded bliss. I didn't understand how you could possibly be that impatient for something that you knew was going to happen, and, further, that you knew was going to happen within a year's time.
I don't remember who it was, but someone recently put it in perspective for me: it is like longing for eternity. For the marriage supper at the culmination of this earth. For full, unadulterated transparency and perfection with our Lord and Savior. I can see that. We are here on earth with but a pale glimpse of eternity, and we yearn to know and to be known, to enjoy and to be enjoyed in the heavenly way, even though we don't really know what that is yet. And an analogy that is used is the wedding one. So I suppose there is some spiritual significance to be gained over these next seven months, these long pockets of time between here and then.
And I am constantly reminded of the need to be thankful, to be content. To remember all of the Lord's blessings, to resist the urge to pat myself on the back for the wonderful order of life at the present moment.
I shudder to remember myself a year ago, a crumbling mess, a pathetic thing that dared to question the Lord and refuse His help. He more than proved to me that I am nothing on my own. It was a living Hell for months. I don't ever want to walk a valley of the shadow like that again, receiving blow after blow from the deafening silence of God.
But at the same time, I now have the Ebenezer of a life remade, of a redemption story amidst the sanctification. Of being lifted up from the pit. Of being shown purpose, of being humbled so low that I could not do anything but praise the Lord of my Creation, the Father of all things, the great, powerful Almighty. The sacrifice for my sins, the advocate for my soul, the initiator and maintainer of the most intimate relationship I'll ever know.
Ebenezer. Next week I will begin a unit on "A Christmas Carol" with my seventh graders. Dickens, a gentleman with a special place in my intellectual heart, was always artful with his character names. I don't remember thinking much about that one until now.
Ah, intellectual. I miss college classes, college life. The vigor of a life devoted to scholarship. But the Lord also showed me the need for a balance, and gave me loving friends, solid experiences, and a man among men. College is great, but means nothing without a graduation date. Education ought to be used. And I am most eager to use my Bible degree in whatever I do from here on out.
I sure talk a good game. I find myself in a seventh grade, secular classroom. A place I have not been since I was in seventh grade, that black hole of the educational experience. That time of life when my English teacher was the only thing I looked forward to in my day. I want to make it different for my kids. I want my colleagues to know the love of God, the sacrifice of Jesus. I want my brief time here to matter, and I do not want to twitter it away while I dream of a day in the future when I will stroll into a sanctuary in a white dress. Not that I shouldn't dream...but there is a lot of living to be done in these next seven months. I want to live well. To prioritize the Lord and the advancement of His kingdom. To remember not only to pray, but to humble myself in prayer. To honor my parents while I live in their house, to keep my mouth shut when I am tempted to complain, to listen well and love ardently.
I have dreams of babies and school field trips and making dinner for my Jonathan, the nearest example of Christ I've met...but today, I need to review prepositions and get to bed so that I am ready to go for my seventh graders in the morning. It will be a cold morning, a drizzly/snowy morning. A two hour delay morning??
It will be a morning brought forth only by the sovereign hand of the One I seem too quick to forget when all is well. I pray that I will walk the road He has marked out for me in the way that He wants and with the power He supplies.
"Oh, for grace to trust Him more."
| | |
|
