Green Apple Jollyranchers, Paper Snowflakes, and Sunrises

I write the gifts. I write the graces. At the beginning of the year, I took on Ann Voskamp's Joy Dare. Count one thousand gifts, one thousand graces, in one year. Just write 3 gifts a day. I start my journal, covered in Zambian chitenge fabric, in the midst of a storm on January 1st. And I write:

1- rain pelting the roof
2- wind rushing through the trees
3- hum of electricity

All is grace.

26- lunch with Mrs. Bolte interrupted 1,000 times
27- outdoor recess after 3 stir crazy days indoors
28- green apple jollyranchers

All is grace.

66- a paper snowflake just unfolded
67- Christ gives me His righteousness
68- Christ gives me a new heart with new desires

All is grace.

100- the sunlight that shines through the bottom of the left living room window
101- freshly swept hardwood floors
102- conversations with kindergarteners in the morning

All is grace.

163- the way the sun's heat feels on the back of my legs through jeans
164- Sunday night dinners after Gathering
165- Girl Scout cookies

All is grace.

199- steam rising from a freshly poured cup of coffee
200- chargrilled chicken at dinner with new friends
201- sleeping in on a Sunday morning

All is grace.

214- a bird chirping, singing its song, in the morning
215- where the pale orange meets sky blue in the sunrise
216- a 30 minute nap after work

It's all grace. All of it. Grace pursues me throughout the day. Most days I find it to be true that I don't find the graces; the graces find me. All of it is undeserved. And as I count the gifts, even on the long days, the hard days, the "I-have-no-idea-how-I'll-make-it-through-tomorrow" days, I find counting the gifts, naming them for what they are, reminds me that grace is greater. More accurately, the Giver of the grace is greater and He's constantly pouring reminders of His greatness, pouring grace and blessings, into my life. Counting gifts every day reminds me, that "nothing can overwhelm me — like grace can overtake me" (Ann Voskamp). It shifts my focus. It sets my eyes on Jesus because it all points me to Him--"All things were made through him, and without him was not any thing made that was made" (John 1:3). Or how about, "A man can receive nothing, except it have been given him from heaven" (John 3:27)? Nothing, not even one thing, is received unless it has been given from heaven. It increases my faith. Ralph Waldo Emerson writes, "All I have seen teaches me to trust the Creator for all I have not seen." Living thankful builds trust in the Provider of the gifts. Even the counting of gifts is a gift--God's grace to me to reveal more of Himself to me. Truly, all is grace.

Why I Love Teaching Littles

Why do I love teaching? And why do I love teaching the little ones? There are so many reasons, but here are just a few:

Because oh, the potential. 
I see a TREMENDOUS amount of potential in each of my kids. The potential is in each of them to be people who make a difference in the world. And I believe wholeheartedly if that is spoken into their lives when they're little, if they're given opportunities to be named as and act as difference makers in the world when they 3, 4, 5, and on up, then they will believe it's who they are when they're older. And it is. It's exactly who they are. I see it in them every day.

Because I want them to fall in love with learning and thinking deeply.
I also believe wholeheartedly that if a child can fall in love with the wonder and joy of learning at an early age, it will stick with them as they grow up. If children learn to ask meaningful and critical questions, if they learn to ask the WHY instead of just accept that 2 + 2 = 4, then it sets them up well for the years ahead of them. The other week, one of my 2nd graders came up to me proudly and said, "Miss Melanie, I know how to divide." I said, "Oh really? Can you tell me more about that?" He responded, "Yeah, 200/200=1." And so I said, "That's awesome! But do you know why 200/200 is 1?" He shrugged his shoulders. So I pushed him because I knew he could handle it. "If you had 200 things and put them into 200 groups, how many would be in each group?" He responded, "One." "Exactly," I said, "that's why 200/200 is 1. If you take 200 things and divide them into 200 groups, there is one thing each group." As a first grader listened to this conversation she said, "Oh, I want to learn to divide too!" We spent the next 15 minutes using leftover AfterCare snacks to make division problems. ("Here's 9 snacks, could you put them into 3 equal groups?") Because it was fun. Because it was exciting to learn something new. Because there's joy in true learning. 

Because I believe that the earlier a child is exposed to developmentally appropriate learning and education opportunities the better.
Early exposure to books, writing, math concepts, science, and community studies through authentic experiences set children on the path to success. I believe every child I teach is already a reader, writer, mathematician, scientist, and social scientist. One of my favorite authors in the education world is Katie Wood Ray. In her book Already Ready, she writes, "What happens when adults really believe that a writer like Sean is the same kind of person as the most proficient writer, the same kind of person as Eric Carle, just with less experience?" (p. 6). As a teacher, it is my job to help children gain experience in being who they already are. Just like you, at your job: You are a ______. And everyday you gain more experience that helps you become a better ______. 

Because they give the best hugs.
Countless hugs every day.

Because they are hilarious.
I get to have conversations like this every single day: 
Me: Do you think I can just hide in one of your suitcases so I can go on the cruise too?
Boy: Then your legs would stick out and people would think you're a suitcase alien and throw you off the ship.
Me: Oh. Guess I'll just stay here then.

 

Memories, Wishes, and Goals (Kids Edition)

Happy New Year, everyone!

To kick off 2014 in aftercare, I made a simple handout for the kids to do today. Their responses were great. Some went the thoughtful route. Some decided to be a little more lighthearted. Some decided to make sure they made my heart smile.

Here's a little snapshot into the best of 2013 and what's ahead in 2014:

The two best things that happened to me in 2013:

--having a bunch of fun
--I went to Boston
--play with friends
--learn about sledding
--I got two new puppies
--presents!
--going to Washington
--swimming pool
--starting first grade
--getting to see Miss Melanie again (Yes, that made my heart melt just a little)
--going snowboard with my dad

My wish for 2014:

--get 50,000,000 rainbow loom rubber bands

--to go ice skating

--I wish I had a nerf gun

--to have more "electroniks"

--listen well

--I wish I had all the beys in the world

--watching mine craft

--I wish Miss Melanie is still going to be my teacher in "2th" grade (Ahhh... and it was a different kid.)

--1 billion rainbow loom kits

--that I had 100s toys at home

--I will become "famose"

Three goals for 2014:

--becoming class clown

--find my one path

--paying attention

--be nice

--spending time with my family more!

--I wish that I had new books

--read more books

--make more book

--dont get in trouble

--be nicer to my mom, dad, and sister

--My goal is to have fun.

--play in the snow if it snows

--write more books

--get better at snowboarding

--to do all of my chores

One thing I want to stop doing in 2014:

--being clumsy

--getting in trouble

--being "disrespekful"

--wearing sneakers

--doing homework

--math and reading

--being lazy

--be mad

--begging

--watching tv shows all the time

--going to bed late

Gosh, I love spending my days with these kids. They're the best. 

As for me, I decided not to do resolutions this year, but to pick one word to focus on for the year. Perhaps a theme, or a filter to see the world through in 2014. After much thought and prayer, I decided on faithful. My thought is to study God's faithfulness throughout the year and to also work on becoming more of a faithful person myself--more faithful to my relationships, my words, and of course, to God. I'm hoping this will be more meaningful, impactful, and lasting than my New Years Resolutions of the past that are usually forgotten by February 1st. Guess we'll see :)

Goodbye, 2013!

So I have been trying to write a post for today, the last day of 2013, for the entire month of December. And I've got nothing. I wanted to write a nice, this-is-what-2013-taught-me post that puts all of the ups and downs in a nice little package with a pretty bow on top. It became quickly apparent to me that wasn't going to happen. Some of the lessons, some of the scars, some of the joys, are just too fresh to put into a package.

I don't know what to say about 2013. It's my favorite and least favorite year of my life all at the same time. I split the year almost exactly in half on two different continents. My feet tread on Zambian soils for 181 days and walked on the streets of America for 184. Both places held great joys for me. There was also some deep darkness.

Had you told me on this day last year (my first day in Zambia) what this year would hold, I would have turned around and gone running the other way as fast as I could, thinking there was no way I could handle it. But in a way, I'm kinda thankful life doesn't work like that. There's some things you only learn by finding yourself in a valley so deep you can't see the mountain top at all. There's a sweetness in the journey of being carried out of that valley too. There's a beauty in being held by the Father when you're too weak to hold onto Him yourself.

That's about as deep or sentimental as I'm going to get today because that's where the words are stopping. Instead, here's some fun favorites from 2013:

My Favorites of 2013

Fiction Book: The Book Thief  by Markus Zusak

Non-fiction Book: The Knowledge of the Holy  by A. W. Tozer

Bible Verse: Psalm 97:5

Album: Take the World, But Give me Jesus by Ascend the Hill

TV show: Downton Abbey

Song: "How Great Thou Art" by Ascend the Hill

Blogger: Jen Hatmaker or Sarah Bessey (there's so many others I never miss a post from)

Restaurant: The Deli (Lusaka, Zambia)

New Skill: Driving a stick shift (while driving on the opposite side of the car and road)

Picture: 

Non-profit: Clothed in Hope

Kid Quote: "Miss Melanie, I was just so bored. I had nothing else to do." (reasoning for giving his twin brother a wedgie)

Note from a kid: "Miss Melanie You mak good love for me and my frends. We love you so mach. You are speshl to me. You mack my haret sooper happy!"

My most popular blog post: "My Flesh and My Heart May Fail" (by almost 300 views)

My personal favorite post: "He Allures Me Still"

Questioning, But Believing

Advent. Come Thou long expected Jesus.

For whatever reason, my heart and soul are really resonating with Advent this year. With the waiting. With the expectation of His coming. It’s like I can feel myself right there with those Israelites wondering if and when their King will come. I’ve been trying to figure out why it is that my heart feels so connected to Advent this year.

And then I realized, it’s because I understand waiting differently than I did this time last year or any year prior. About 6 months ago, I found myself waiting in a way that I had never waited before. Curled up in the fetal position on a concrete floor, Bible clung to my chest, I cried out to God and waited. And waited. And waited. I waited for God to remind me He was there. It’s weird and humbling and somewhat terrifying place to be—questioning if God is there but knowing in your heart that your only hope is that He is. Asking for faith to believe He’s there. And waiting for the faith to come.

I imagine that’s a little bit of what the Israelites felt as they waited for generations. Waited and waited for their Savior King to come. Questioning where God was, but believing He would come.

Because He’d always come. And He always will. And so in the waiting and in the doubt, there’s still this sweet assurance that He will come, that He is there even. There’s faith that He’ll give faith.

In the overwhelming darkness that still brings chills to my bones and causes my fingers to tremble, I knew He would come. I knew He would not leave me there. I knew His plan was for joy, not despair. I knew He would come. I even knew He was there though I could not see nor feel Him.

Because He’s always come. Because He came. Because He’s coming. Because He’s Emmanuel—God With Us.

Rejoice! Rejoice!

Emmanuel has come for Thee, O Israel!

And so this season, during this time of Advent, my heart understands waiting. My heart also understands the joy of His coming more deeply, because I know the joy that follows desperate waiting. My soul only understands a fraction of what the Israelites waiting must have felt like because I know He came. God came and dwelt among us in human flesh. He descended from His throne in Heaven and lived among us as a servant. He lived the perfect life we could not live, took on our sin and received the wrath of God, dying the death we deserved, and rose from the grave forever conquering sin and death.

I, unlike the Israelites, have the benefit of knowing He came. He came for them. He came for us.

And I can wait in faith that He will come again.

Teaching Life

So everyday from 3:00-5:30 I have the crazy, awesome job of being an AfterCare teacher at my school. I work with some pretty wonderful (in my completely unbiased opinion) first and second graders. We have a great time together.

Recently, I've been thinking about what it is I do with my kiddos during that block of time. I'm not really teaching any core subject areas. Sure, on occasion, I help a kid with homework. But homework assignments are few and far between for most of my kids since they're young and often times even if they do have homework, they don't need my help. They've got things under control. Anyway, so I've been thinking, "What am I doing with these kids other than entertaining them until their parents arrive?"

And it hit me. I get to teach them life. Or maybe better said, we teach each other life. Sometimes our lessons are simple: rolling down the hill is lots of fun. It's something I think every kid should know. And so the other day, I took my kids outside to the hill on the side of our school instead of the playground, and said, "You can roll down the hill or just run around." One kid looked at me quizzically and asked, "Roll down the hill? We can do that?" "Yeah, it's really fun. You'll love it." My entire class rolled down the hill over and over and over again for a solid 15 minutes. And the smiles on their faces were huge. One little girl, after about her fifth trip down the hill, ran past me and exclaimed, "This is so fun, Miss Melanie!" After we finished and went back inside, I spent time picking grass out of all the girls' hair, just talking and sharing our days with one another as they colored and wrote notes.

Sometimes our lessons are a little deeper. This week I read my kids a book by Max Lucado, If I Only Had a Green Nose. It's a story about all these wooden people who get their noses painted green to be "with it." And these three wooden boys decide not to do it, at least until peer pressure gets the best of them. And then they're always having to change the color of their nose to be in the cool crowd. One day it's red; one day it's yellow; one day it's orange. And finally they realize it's better to be how they were created to be. So they go to the woodmaker and he uses sand paper to file away all the layers of paint until their noses are back to their "common" noses. And so after we finish the book, I say, "Any take aways?" Hands shoot up in the air. And these are their direct quotes:

If other people show you what they got, you don't have to get it too.
Be yourself.
Don't follow what other people do if it's not the right thing.
Don't try to be someone else.
Don't let other people tell you who you are.
If people tell you to fit in, you don't have to do it.

And then there's dodgeball. We learn a lot from dodgeball. I line the kids up and someone shouts out a way to divide the teams. I tap kids on the head as I alternate between the two team names: "Alien... dragon... alien... dragon." I end by tapping myself on the head with the next team name and join in the game. And dodgeball... it teaches us lots of lessons: how to solve problems when there's a difference of opinion, how to share, how to work together, how to have fun and laugh together.

I also think it's important to teach them through owning up to my mistakes. Last week, I was helping one of my girls with her math homework and felt like she was really invested, actually understanding what it was she was doing and learning new strategies to solve the problems. And so when another little girl came over to us and started talking to and distracting the child doing her homework, I spoke a little more harshly to her than I should have. I knew it as soon as it came out of my mouth. So a few minutes later, I called the girl over and apologized. Because I think it's important that they know adults make mistakes too. And in modeling apologizing for her, she learns a little more about what humility and apologizing look like.

Our days are not perfect. Not everything goes how I want it to go. Not every book I read them inspires thoughtful conversation. Sometimes a dodgeball game makes me want to pull my hair out. But even then we're learning life from one another-- how to deal with frustration and expectations that aren't met, choosing your battles, how to help one another make wiser decisions. And life, sometimes it's messy and it doesn't look perfect. And that's a part of the lesson.

In Which I Don't Have the Words... But I Know

I've had a blog on my heart for a couple of weeks. But it's one I approach very humbly, because I know I just don't have the adequate words. So I haven't written it.

You see, Christ has been working on my heart lately. In every area of my life, He's been teaching me the same lesson-- "I am enough." And it seems like a simple thing. You know, it's one of those things that most Christians say-- "Christ is enough. He's all I need." But lately, I've been realizing there's a big difference in knowing that in your head and believing it in the very depths of your core.

And let me tell you, believing it in the very depths of your core is incredibly freeing. It allows the blessings of God to be just that. Just His blessings. I don't have to look to my job for my worth, value, or identity. My job doesn't give me my purpose in life. I don't have to look to my relationships for my worth, value, or identity. They don't give me my purpose in life either. They are not the source of my joy. I don't have to look to other people's approval for my worth, value, or identity.

The only thing that matters is Christ. And here's the thing: I don't even have to do anything to earn my worth, value, and identity in Him. He freely clothes me in His righteousness and covers me in His grace and I haven't done a thing to earn it. His love for me comes out of Himself. It's not based on me. I can't do anything to make Him love me more or less.

He doesn't think less of me because I came home early from Zambia.
He doesn't think less of you because of your latest failure.
Because His affections for you, your righteousness before the throne of God, are not based on you at all. They're based on Christ.

And so in the throne room of heaven, before a holy and just God, Christ is enough for you.

Already, I feel the words are failing me. Because I so desire for you to truly understand this too. To truly have the full assurance that Christ is enough. Yes, in the throne room. But also on the earth. He's enough.

Recently in my lifegroup, we wrote down the 10 most important things (people, accomplishments, pursuits) in our lives on index cards. And one by one we took them away, symbolic of losing them in our lives. It seems like a silly little exercise. But let me tell you, when you're left with none of your earthly joys, pleasures, and pursuits in your hand, it's pretty humbling. Who would you be without these things? If I didn't have that relationship... if I didn't have this job... if I hadn't accomplished that...

If all else is stripped away, is He enough?

I know that answer to be yes. A resounding, fully confident yes. He is.

Would there be grief in losing all those things? Absolutely. Tremendous, overwhelming, suffocating grief. But God created us to be emotional beings. He created us with the capacity to feel grief. And so knowing this, knowing He is enough, doesn't mean we don't experience grief. That is not what I'm saying at all.

What I am saying is that we can walk through those seasons of grief with an overwhelming assurance that Christ is enough. He is sovereign. He makes a better God than you would. He sees from beginning to end at the same time. You don't even know what the next hour of your life holds, no matter how much you'd like to think you do.

In my darkest hour in Zambia, so dark I would never even attempt to put words to it, Christ was enough. When I literally couldn't breathe under the overwhelming weight of the darkness, He was still there. He carried me through. And I have a deeper sense of belief that everything else in my life can fade away and He will be enough. And so I wouldn't trade that season, that hour. I honestly wouldn't. I don't know why I had to go through it, but what I got out of it was so beautiful and freeing on the other side.

Christ is enough. I don't say it lightly or flippantly. It's not just a part of my "Christianese," a phrase I know I should say. He really and truly is. In the throne room of heaven and here on earth, He is enough for you.