READING WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE...SERIOUSLY:)

Ms. Valvano completed the 40 book challenge for the second year in a row...Hold your applause!!!  We challenge all of our middle school students to read 40 books over the course of the school year. I decided to give up my romance novels and self-help books and dive into the world of juvenile literature.  It has been a blast talking to my students about what they are reading.  If you are a parent having a difficult time connecting with your teenager, I STRONGLY suggest reading together.  We are not going to learn about the thoughts and feelings of our youngsters by following their facebook or instagram.  There are also personal benefits to reading the dystopian novels that are all the craze. 

If there is ever a shortage of food and I have to serve as a tribute from my district in a fight to the death...I know how to survive.  Perhaps a virus has been released into the world killing everyone, but a few brave individuals must fight the Republic and save the world...no problem for me.  Aliens, werewolves, factions, rejects, witches...nothing it outside my realm of expertise.  The excitement I have seen in the eyes of my students has reignited my passion for reading.  This week, however, I received further confirmation that books do more than entertain...they can and will change our lives.

 I recently gave my younger sister LeeAnn a book written by her former Pastor Tim Keller.  The book beautifully illustrates the biblical meaning of marriage.  Lee and her husband Beau have a 2 year old and a little girl on the way.  I know what it is like to be caught up in those sleep deprived, potty training, cheerio eating years.  She called me a few nights ago in tears.  She started reading the book and wanted me to know it had made her rethink how she had been viewing her marriage.  She gushed about wisdom she had gained and how she wanted to share them with her husband.  LeeAnn is currently working full time, going to graduate school, raising a toddler, and 7 months pregnant.  Tired and overwhelmed don't begin to capture her life, but the words in a book had touched her spirit.

I packed the pool bag and decided I needed something to read.  I stumbled upon a book that my friend Lisa had given me for my birthday.  As I cracked open, Carry on Warrior, written by Glennon Doyle Melton, I could never have imagined what was about to happen to me.  I have been struggling with the desire to write a book for years, and these words rocked my world...

If, anywhere in your soul, you feel the desire to write, please write.  Write as a gift to yourself and others.  Everyone has a story to tell.  Writing is not about creating tidy paragraphs that sound lovely or choosing the "right" words.  It's about noticing who you are and noticing life and sharing what you notice.  When you write your truth, it is a love offering to the world because it helps us feel braver and less alone.

In an instant, sitting by the pool on an average summer day, this author had taken a match to the fire that had been dormant inside of me for years.  Because of those words I read, I cannot stop thinking about what I want to write...when I will have time to write...and what I am going to write.  She gave me permission to attack my passion without thought to the end result.  Writing is a gift I will give myself as I allow the truth to heal my soul. 

Whether you are seeking a way to connect with your child, a renewed commitment to your marriage, an escape from reality, or permission to follow your dreams... a book can meet those needs and so much more.  Books give you glimpses into lives once lived, adventures yet to come, and personal emotions never spoken.  Put down the phone, turn off the television, forget to post what you are doing every second of the day...and lose and find yourself again in the words written by another.

MY STUDENT...MY TEACHER

Several times a month, I would return to my desk at the end of the day to find a "love" note waiting for me.

You are the best teacher ever!
You're extraordinary...
You inspire me!

These were some of the personal messages that were colorfully captured on a folded white sheet of computer paper.  No name was ever written, but the hearts and loopy writing gave me a clue that the student was a girl.  My 9th period class was filled with a bunch of rambunctious boys that were bouncing off the walls.  Since it was the end of a long day for me, I often felt I did not give this group of 33 my best efforts. Yet, the words of support from a 13 year old, inspired me to keep moving forward. 

I believed strongly I knew the girl that was writing me the notes.  She was a mature, outspoken, prepared, creative, bright, and unique young woman.  I would often catch her eyes during the 9th period chaos, and we would share a knowing smile that seemed to say "what are these crazy kids doing?"   Every week I would add the new message to my collection, and the image of her would float through my mind. 

On the last day of school after our awards ceremony, I discovered what would be my last letter.  I opened and read the beautiful sentiment that captured the innermost feelings of one girl.  There was one difference...at the bottom of the page she wrote her name.  I still get chills as I think of that moment.  I was totally wrong about the identify of the writer.  A beautiful young girl with long brown hair, freckles, and a shy smile was my angel.  The truth filled me with awe and sadness.  I could count on one hand how many times I had spoken to her over the course of the year.  Had I ever asked her about the book she was reading?  Did I really know anything about her interests outside of school? She hardly ever raised her hand, leading me to believe she did not even enjoy my class. How could I have made such an impact on her? 

With tears in my eyes I found her in the midst of the craziness of the last day of school.  We hugged and I inadequately tried to explain what her notes had meant to me.  I asked her one simple question, "What gave you the idea to leave me those notes?"  She simply raised her shoulders and replied, "I don't know.  I just wanted to."  The bell rang and with it came the end of another school year.  She walked out of my life never knowing she had become my teacher. 

Every single person walking this earth needs encouragement.  Complaints and injustices seem to roll easily out of our mouths, but we forget to speak affirming words of appreciation.  Chances are most of us know where we are falling short in a relationship, but I for one need to hear what I am doing right.  It took a 13 year old girl to teach me how to love.  Her unselfish actions did nothing to benefit her, but placed in me a belief that I was worthy.  I challenge you in honor of my beautiful student to leave an unsigned note somewhere today with a simple, uplifting message.  Spread the love...and see what happens.

ACCEPTANCE

Rejection hurts.  Through painful life experiences we learn that we are unworthy, inadequate, substandard.  There have been moments in my life when individuals have spoken words of shame over me.  The negative thoughts we allow to run through our own minds can be more harmful than what others heap upon us.  I am not beautiful enough, my cooking stinks, my parenting skills are weak, I lack discipline to get into shape, I have no talent, nobody will ever love me...  Is there an off switch to my own defeatist thinking?

My devoted family and friends will support the ugly truth that I tend to not only listen and believe the gloomy recordings in my mind, but I marinate in the very musings that do nothing but bring me down.  When I was going through cancer treatment, I can recall my oncologist stating with power in his voice, "you will get to hold your grandchildren in your arms."  One would think that statement would provide hope during my struggle, but instead I remembered my father's battle with the very same disease, and felt my doctor was mistaken.  For years I faced the challenges of my treatment, without ever tasting the victory.  That pattern has been relived again and again as I climb over the obstacles every human faces, but fail to take time to experience the unclaimed joys.

In a few weeks, I will be turning 42!  I WANT to celebrate, but fear that I just don't have it in me.  Why you ask?  I can think of one word that haunts me... ACCEPTANCE.  I have been waiting for the world to love me.  Counting the minutes until all of MY silly dreams come to fruition.  Piling up the hurts and failures until I am gasping for a breath of freedom.  Some days the only thing that keeps me moving forward, is the bond I cherish with my two children.  Many of you reading this blog might be shaking your head in agreement, but this is where I tend to lose you...when I talk about Jesus.  But before you hit delete...give me just a moment. 

Here is the cold and nasty truth.  The world is not designed to fulfill our needs and desires.  We cannot find our worth or acceptance in another human being.  We cannot compare our journey with our neighbor or even trust our own thoughts to shape how we feel about ourselves.  The God that created EVERYTHING loves ME and YOU.  As I read the bible, I have to replace His truth with my lies.  I am the one with the problem here because I refuse to ACCEPT and receive the gifts that He has offered.  I am beautifully and wonderfully made, I am loved, I am healed, I am forgiven, I am worthy.  If you don't see me that way (or if I don't see myself that way) than I am not looking through the eyes of my Creator. 

WHERE IS YOUR PARADISE?

I just arrived home from a glorious vacation.  As I sat on the white sand overlooking the crystal blue ocean I uttered, "This is paradise."  Paradise is defined as a place or state of bliss, felicity, or delight.  Those were the exact feelings that I had as I took in the beauty all around me.  There were no chores to do, lessons to teach, bills to pay, meals to prepare, or deadlines to meet.  My mind was blank and my breathing was light and easy.  I felt closer to God and the unexpected blessings that would come with this much needed rest. 

Heaven is a paradise that no human can even visualize.  As I walk with Jesus, I strongly believe that He does not want me to wait until I have left this world to feel heavenly blessings.  My life is messy, ugly, and broken.  As I draw closer to Good Friday, I can grieve the brutality of the crucifixion, but Sunday is coming.  The resurrection of Jesus Christ is the miracle that allows every Christian to leave the heaviness of this world behind, and find paradise in each and every moment. 

Close your eyes right now and take a deep breath.  Imagine your paradise...who is with you?  What do you hear, smell, taste, and feel?  Leave this world behind, and go to your happy place.  That is a tiny sample of what Jesus died to give you...now go bless others. 

DANGER AHEAD

One of the best parts of having a break from school, is that I can meet my best friend for walks at 6:30 AM.  I love starting my day with some sweat, laughter, and prayer.  We are both starting to feel more alive now that the sunshine has arrived. 

Icy mornings cancelled more than one day of school this winter.  Christine and I would take advantage of my days off from school and try to meet before she had to go to work.  The roads were not hazardous on one particular morning, but the shadowy trail that we walked had some icy spots that posed a risk.  As we walked our first loop around the track, I slipped on a patch of ice and just caught myself before falling on the hard cement.  We continued walking and again I found myself skidding on the exact spot.  I chuckled while attempting to explain my carelessness.  However, once I went over the sheet of ice a third time, both of us stopped and looked at each other with wide eyes of disbelief.

Someone recently pointed out to me that I am extremely stubborn.  Honestly, I have never believed that I embodied this particular trait.  I started to examine the way that I make decisions and how I approach change.  My stubbornness is not the "I won't give up in the face of adversity" variety.  It is more like the "I think I am right" inflexibility that refuses to entertain another perspective.  I am drawn to the comfortable path that causes me to slip, fall, and perhaps hurt myself.  Just like that cold morning when I continued walking over the same patch of ice, I refuse to admit that the carefully set plan that guides my days might be harmful. 

Why would someone keep doing the same thing over and over again if it causes nothing but heartache? I can only answer for myself.  I don't want to surrender.  I don't want to give up control.  I don't want to admit that I don't know what the hell I am doing.  I profess to be a Christian, but when it comes right down to it, I don't trust the Creator of everything to take care of me.  He might want me to give up some things or people that I want to keep.  As I write these words, I am ashamed to admit that my stubbornness has caused pain and suffering.  This discovery, although profound, did not cause an instant revision of how I live.  I have been forced to minute by minute submit my will and acknowledge that His way is perfect.  When fear creeps in, I think of that slippery piece of ice, and purposely walk away from the danger ahead.      

WHO ARE YOU FOOLING?

This was the question that stared back at me from the pages of my 5 year journal...Who are you fooling?  The book, given to me by my BFF Christine, poses a question a day intended to playfully keep record of our daily emotion and thoughts over time.  And yet, this morning I failed to find the humor in this particular inquiry. 

I have been wrestling with HONESTY.  I want everyone to like me.  If I fail to meet your expectations, I have a list of excuses ready to provide that can easily get me out of any jam.  Years without change, have forced others to either leave or except me as I am.  I am not a bad person...I just don't always tell the truth.  However, my falsehoods actually have nothing to do with you.  The real fool in my life is....ME.  My carefully constructed existence is entirely intended to keep me comfortable, but it does the exact opposite.  Thankfully, God continues to convict me.  He won't force me to do anything differently.  I can stay in this land of make believe, or I can surrender every area of my life and be used for His glory. 

April 1st is the only day that we are supposed to be foolish, but perhaps I will start another tradition.  Maybe today can be the moment when I start to get real.  The reflection in the mirror does not have to be flawless, but the source of my power is undeniably perfect. 


Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.    Psalm 139: 23-24

MY GIFT TO MY STUDENTS

 
 
 

My first day of trackout has given me time to reflect on my year of teaching.  I only have 9 weeks left with my current students before they move on to 8th grade.  Panic has set in as I realize that I need more time.  5 days a week, I try to meet the educational and emotional needs of approximately 125 adolescents.  The state provides me with lessons, themes, and ideas that I can use in my classroom.  I work with three other teachers on my team. We daily discuss the myriad of challenges that we face.  The horrible truth is that most days I feel like a failure.  Have I accomplished anything real or life changing?

Our science teacher, Ms. Boone, recently studied genetics.  The students made faces out of construction paper that captured their unique physical traits.  Every morning, I walk by the wall of over 100 faces and always smile.  My students are not robots that simply memorize facts and figures.  I cannot magically open up their minds and dump in all the knowledge I feel they might need in the future. Each child is magically unique and no ONE teacher can possibly reach them all. However, this powerful truth has changed my entire way of teaching and parenting. 

The gift that I give my students is that I accept them where they are in their journey.  Many of them are talented writers, eloquent poets, articulate speakers, and dedicated scholars.  I chuckle as I think of those young girls and boys that are just quite simply a mess.  Parents come to conferences and throw their hands up in the air unable to think of ways to motivate their children to put forth more effort.  I could spend the next 10 years with some of my students and never reach them.  I am thankful that each of us has a lifetime to interact with individuals that will inspire and teach us.  And so as I walk past those paper faces, I remind myself to look up from the books and the papers and see the real faces in front of me.  I humbly thank God for the way He might use me in the lives of my 7th graders.  As a parent, I pray that there is at least one teacher that looks into the faces of my own children and perhaps changes them forever.