kites

On my drive home from work today, something caught my eye. It was a kite in the air flying high above the trees. As I got closer, I could see a dad and his 3 or 4 kids standing on a high place along the road putting their kites together. The one I had seen was already in the air, and one or two more were nearing completion. It was such a nice thing to see after spending all day at work watching grumpy moms and dads and tired kids playing the consumer game. Here was a family having fun together outside without spending money, other than what they paid for their kites.

It struck me as funny then, that seeing a kite was odd. That's because I tend associate kites with the beach. I grew up near the coast and there usually isn't enough consistent wind anywhere else that would lift a kite. It also reminded me of my first kite. My dad bought it for me when I was probably 3 or 4. It was a bright sky blue and it had some kind of brightly colored design on the front (I can't remember what the design was). The kite was fairly simple, and it was held together with wooden dowels. I do remember the first time I got to take it to the beach and being so scared that I was going to let it go because it went so high in the air, that at the time, it was hard to watch it and hold on too. I remember letting it go once and dad had to run after it, but man, I loved that thing. I remember bringing it out at home and trying to make it fly on my own. I could never seem to get it going and usually ended up in trouble because I made a mess out of the string and miscellaneous pieces. Eventually, I lost the dowels that held it all together, and so ended my kite-flying days. However, I still enjoy watching others fly them at the beach...or on the way home from work. :)

no picking allowed

Maybe I'm being a little emo. today, but it hit me again tonight that we live in a sad world. I was sitting here at my desk looking at some dying daffodils that my mom sent me from home and began to think about how I would love to find some flowers to replace them. Then I thought, "Where would I find flowers to pick?" and followed by that thought was, "Even if I found them, it's not like I could pick them." Is there anywhere for someone to pick a bouquet of flowers for enjoyment without getting fined?

P.S. I promise I'll try to write about something happy next time...seems like these last few posts have been a little depressing!

chapel, we have a problem

_______________________
How He Loves Us

"He is jealous for me
Love's like a hurricane, I am a tree
Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy
When all of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory
and I realize just how beautiful You are and how great Your affections are for me.
Oh, how He loves us so
Oh, how He loves us
How He loves us so.

Yeah, He loves us
Woah, how He loves us
Woah, how He loves us
Woah, how He loves.

So we are His portion and He is our prize,
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes
If grace is an ocean we're all sinking
So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss and my heart turns violently inside of my chest
I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way

That He loves us,
Woah, how He loves us
Woah, how He loves us
Woah, how He love"
____________________

Ok, call me ridiculous, but I am of the opinion that most contemporary Christian worship music these days quite frankly, needs help. The writing is "cheap" (I mean seriously, "Woah" and "Lalalala"?), the tunes are regurgitated from every other worship song, and the whole atmosphere of a service with such music just screams, "I wish I were at a rock concert, but I guess I'll just have to be satisfied with this...maybe if I pretend I'm at a rock concert and scream along, the hott worship leader will notice me." Well, I'm probably taking things a little far with that picture, and to be sure, I know many people who sing worship music with seemingly genuine hearts, but I'm just saying, the music itself just doesn't exactly seem real, or heartfelt, or very worshipful at all. That's why I was exceedingly appalled last August when one of the University's worship teams brought out this song. Sure, I had issues with the "woah, woahs" and the illogical flow of the lyrics, but they were tolerable until third and fourth sentences of the second verse: "If grace is an ocean we're all sinking, So heaven meets earth like a sloppy wet kiss and my heart turns violently inside of my chest." Those lines, particularly the line about the "sloppy wet kiss" were a little shocking. Describing God's handiwork as a sloppy wet kiss seems like an insult to me. I mean, I've had sloppy wet kisses (ex-boyfriend story) and let me tell you, they were not pleasant. I dreaded kissing-it was gross, and awkward, and basically miserable. So anyway, what I'm saying is, the word picture is disgusting and I have two reactions when I hear it sung:

-1.) I want to hurl-because I can relate to the idea of a sloppy wet kiss, and
-2.) I am angered that something as sacred and wonderful as heaven meeting earth (the divine reaching down to touch the temporal and sinful) is compared to something so unpleasant.

Of course kissing, in and of itself, is not gross, and with someone you care about and enjoy being with, it's a lovely thing, but I'm saying I just take issue with the way the song is written. Now I am sure that the writers of the song didn't mean for it to be gross, or disgusting, or de-valuing in any way. I don't know much about the guy who wrote the lyrics, but I'm sure he's a great Christian guy; I just have a problem with the seeming "cheapness" of the lyrics. Compared to the great hymns and choruses of years past, the song seems to bear resemblance to something a teenager would have written in a moment of passion using the limited life experience that most young teenagers have. Of course, who am I to judge? I guess someone could do the same thing to my writing: compared to someone like Chopin, or Melville, or Chaucer, it is utter garbage worthy of the burn pit (it's actually probably worthy of the burn pit of it's own accord), so I don't mean to be judgmental about the writing-it's just how it seems. Also, it is possible that the hymn writers of old had hearts further from the truth than someone sitting in chapel genuinely singing these words, it's just the impression that the song makes that causes me some discomfort and for that reason, I will not sing it.

faith and the future

"What is faith? It is the confident assurance that what we hope for is going to happen. It is the evidence of things we cannot yet see."-Hebrews 11:1 (NLT)

I was re-reading some of my older posts this evening and came across one from roughly a year ago (a little less). In it, I mentioned that my former roommate was apprehensive about her college graduation because she felt like it would be the "end of her youth". I basically wrote that I didn't understand why she would feel that way because college (at least in my experience) has been somewhat of a drag. Well, these days, I'm in her shoes. I don't dread graduation, but I am beginning to understand more of where she was coming from. In truth, I am excited about being done, but I am nervous at once, because, as I mentioned in the old post, I've never known anything other than school in some form or other. Now, I am faced with the reality that school-or my time as a student-will be a thing of the past in short order, and I will be immediately faced with several very hefty problems: 1.) I will be (once again) jobless, and 2.) I will soon begin to receive some very, very LARGE bills in the mail from various college loan companies. Honestly, these two issues have been like a weight hanging around my neck for some time, and I feel torn. In a sense, I just want to get on with things and begin working to pay off those huge loans, and in another sense, I just want to isolate myself from the world and pretend like college has been a dream...I know, that is not an option, but the fact that I will be faced with the bills, on top of not having a job in the foreseeable future is enough to set my stomach to churning. I know I spend a lot of time writing about being jobless. The fact is, I have not really been "jobless" for a while...just not making anything. Last summer was hard because I was not technically employed, however, I did do small jobs that earned me enough to pay my bills. Fall semester, I student taught, which was an 18 week, full-time, 45-55 hr./wk. job, but because it was a requirement for school, it was not a paid position-something that was a cause of GREAT frustration after coming off a summer making just enough to scrape by (a refund from school loans and my generous parents helped me through student teaching). As of now, I have a part-time job in town, however, it is only temporary-until graduation and it is also not full-time (not that I could do full-time now anyway with school). Anyway, I'm not sure why I am typing all of this...I'm sure I just need to vent, but I guess I'm just saying that I can sympathize with what my roommate was going through last year. Yes, I am dreading graduation for different reasons, but it is the same fear of the unknown she worried so much about that is now weighing so heavily on me. In my heart, I know that I need to have faith. Over the past few months, I've really been thinking about the choices I made 5 years ago when I was choosing colleges. Actually, that story goes back to 7th grade when I began to feel like I was being lead to attend a Christian university after high school graduation. I spent years praying and searching for the right school and in the end made my decision. The school was fairly prestigious (as much as a Christian school can be) and yes, it was expensive, but prayer after prayer was answered and loans, and scholarship applications, and registration paperwork all went through miraculously on time-even in the face of deadlines. I remember specifically one day, working on a scholarship essay on a Monday afternoon after school. I had just found out about the scholarship opportunity, and it turned out that the deadline was 12, noon, the Wednesday of that week. I had 1.5 days to get the essay written, sent (from the PNW), and received in Illinois. I wrote the essay in record time (20 minutes-it was all I had), and printed it off just in time to hand it to mom who ran it to the post office. The post office was closing as mom pulled up, but she convinced them to let her in to send the essay via air-mail. Even so, the postal clerk was skeptical that it would arrive at the school in time to make the deadline. Somehow, that envelope made the 2,000 mile trip and was processed and delivered in less than 24 hours, and I got an e-mail confirmation from the admissions office the next afternoon. And yes, I received the scholarship. Things like this happened so often during my first year of college that there was NEVER one doubt in my mind that I was where I was supposed to be. After my first year of college, I transferred (due to realizing that my goal of becoming a doctor was just not going to happen-my brain is not wired for chemistry and math) to a small college that I had never heard of, and wouldn't have heard of if it hadn't been for my roommate at the first school. Again, I was accepted and loans transferred, and paperwork went through at the last minute and once again, I knew I was in the right place. Anyway, like I wrote, I've been reminding myself of these events in the past months-reminding myself that God brought me here...there is NO WAY I would be sitting at this cramped little desk, 1,925 miles from home, about ready to receive a college degree (first in my immediate family, first 4-yr. in my extended family) if God had not made provision. I don't know where I will find work, or how, or how long it will take, and I don't understand how I am going to pay my bills, but God does. He is in here with me in the present-knowing my fears and frustrations, and he is in the future, paving a way as I type this. Maybe things won't turn out so neatly, and maybe I will have to file loan extensions and jump through a thousand hoops, and maybe I'll even be homeless (i.e. living with family) for a time, but one way or the other, God will provide for my needs-He brought me here and has provided for me each time I've needed it since I've been at school, and He will do it again. He knew years ago that there was no way my grades were good enough, or that I could afford the college that I felt He wanted me to attend, and He made a way-He will do the same in the coming year.

sight or site

I have a lot of pet peeves: plastic bathtubs, hair (not attached to the head), bath rugs (disgusting to think of bath rug hair and lint all over clean feet), immaturity (though I admit, I can be pretty immature myself at times, and immaturity in general can be subjective), backstabbers, whiny children...the list is long. Anyway, the sight/site spelling error is fast becoming a big problem for me. I can't count the times that I've seen professional organizations and newspaper reporters use the word "sight" (as in "It was a sight to behold", or "Her sight was almost gone") and and spell it "site" or vice versa. I don't get it. Really, some of the only times "site" should be used is in reference to a website ("the article appears at the following site...") or a location ("Construction is almost finished at the building site."). The sight/site problem is on par to become another "affect/effect" problem and I've noticed it getting worse over time as people see the word "site" on the internet and just assume that is the only way to spell it. I will admit, my spelling and grammar (especially my grammar-see the post below this for some fine examples) are FAR from perfect, but there are a few things that really bug me when I see them. This is one of those things.

-Me

P.S. A third spelling of the word is "cite" as in: "The police officer cited her for reckless endangerment." or "Don't forget to cite your sources." I have seen writers use "site" in place of "cite" but this error is made far less than the other.

student teaching: what i'm learning

I do realize it's been more than two months since I've posted...and I apologize if anyone still reads my blog (not that anyone ever did). I guess I've just been plagued with a lack of inspiration...spending a good deal of time writing each day will do that after a while...and none of my writing has had anything to do with what I wanted to write about. That's the worst kind of writing.

The last two months have passed quickly, in part because I've been keeping busy with student teaching. I received my assignment at the end of July and am in a class with 10th graders all day. "Our" kids are really great kids and I've been enjoying getting to know them, but getting used to being back in high school full-time has been difficult and a little weird now that I'm on the "teacher" side of things. My observations and practicums over the last two years have done a lot to prepare me, but there were still things that really shocked me during the first few weeks of school...for one, the meetings. I don't understand the need for so many committees and teams...I realize a lot of it has to do with all the standards: district standards, state standards, and national standards, but these meetings usually consist of one person orating for a long period of time about nothing in particular...well, sometimes the news is important and in which case the speaker usually takes full advantage of the opportunity to speak, and what could take 10 minutes usually lasts about 1.5 hours. So anyway, the number of meetings teachers attend when you add standards meetings to IEP meetings, and parent conferences, and data team meetings, and department meetings, and staff meetings-it's a little overwhelming.

Another surprising facet of teaching has been the grading. I realize that as an English teacher, I will have more grading than probably most, if not all, other subjects, and by the nature of what I will be teaching, the grading is going to take longer (research papers, essays, etc.), but when each assignment given yields 130 papers to grade, one can see how grading takes up and immense amount of time. One night, I graded 350 papers and over 3,500 individual sentences (I was grading grammar assignments.)!

Needless to say, I've learned a lot about teaching and just how demanding it actually is. I won't lie, the thought of leaving teaching before I've even begun has crossed my mind, but after realizing the need for good, committed teachers, I've promised myself that I'm going to stick it out and do something with everything I've learned...after all, what good is anything I've been through if I don't use it to help someone else? I'm learning what teachers mean when they say that you have to be "called" to the profession...it is not for the weak. I'm learning too, that teachers (in general, and specifically high school teachers) are some of the most cynical and jaded people you will meet-not that that is a bad thing. What teachers see and deal with every day is enough to make a lot of people run, so developing a perservation tool like cynicism is only natural. Because my nature is more disposed to sarcasm and cynicism, I'm realizing that one of my biggest battles within myself will be fighting the urge to categorize people and events, and focus on the negative. I owe it to those I will be teaching to have a positive attitude and I will have to spend considerable time resisting the urge to take part in "negativity" sessions with other teachers.

On a lighter note, some of things kids say and do are hilarious, and make me wonder if they think at all about what's coming out of their mouths...but then again, that's what makes teenagers so unique....they can understand and process "adult" concepts, but a lot of kids are lacking any kind of "thought filter" that keeps what they are thinking from coming out of their mouths. In any case, it is highly entertaining and I'm quickly amassing a collection of interesting stories!

what the heck, why not

I had to log in to leave a comment on another blog and figured, why not write one myself. Not that much has happened in like the 5 days since I've written, but that's ok. I will be on to my next adventure in about 48 hours. The time has come for me to travel back to school, which, honestly, I'm dreading. I've mentioned before that each time I've had to return to school over the last two or so years, has been harder than the time before. *Fingers cossed that this will be my last year* and hopefully there will be just a few more goodbyes until, as my b.f. puts it, "No more good-byes, it's only hello." I've been so blessed to be able to attend college away from home and haven't really dealt with as much homesickness as I could have, or seen others go through, but being away from those you love and who love you, is difficult to say the least, especially having gone to college knowing no one at my school or in the area. All of my relationships at school and in that part of the country have been built from nothing, and no one I know at home knows the people at school and vice versa...I guess it's kind of like living two lives in a way. Not so much that I'm two people as I'm just this one person living two lives half-a-continent apart and trying to integrate myself in to both of them. I guess it's helped me grow up, but sometimes it still feels like I'm living two separate lives-I mean, I have two beds, two sets of clothing, two desks, two planners, two cars (my Honda at school, the old family car that I drive when I'm home)...it's just a little weird is what I'm trying to say, and I'm glad that this dual existence is limited to just another year or so. :)

-Me.