#20. It's a Great Big World.

As a student, I loved getting new school supplies every year.  As a teacher, I loved it even more!  :-)  In fact, my mom and I would still go shopping together every tax-free weekend.  This year, I got to buy my school supplies in France, which was a whole new experience.

Here is a photo of my new “pocket” French dictionary…a gift from the university!  Also, check out my sweet new pencil case in the background.  Correction…pen case.  “En France, on utilise toujours un stylo” (professor at the university).

Other than my stylo case, I actually found the process of French school supply shopping to be a bit overwhelming.  Why can’t you buy a notebook with pages that tear out?  Why don’t the folders fit inside the binders?  Why do the binders have 4 rings instead of 3?  If one is going to make a binder with 4 rings, why sell a hole punch that only punches 2 holes at a time?  If one is going to sell a hole punch that only punches 2 holes at a time, why not make the adjustable ruler go all the way through so that a person with some perfectionist tendencies can make sure the top half of her paper is as evenly punched as the bottom half?

Of course, in the grand scheme of things, none of these details really matters.  I am thrilled to be here in France, learning both the language and the culture.  The US is a big country, but the world outside of it is a whole lot bigger.  And the more people I meet here who are from all over the world, the more I appreciate the greatness of my God who created and cares for every tribe, tongue, people, and nation.  English is a pretty widely spoken language, but not everyone here speaks it.  So even though my French isn’t great yet, I think it’s pretty awesome that having this language in common with my classmates allows me to communicate with people from places I’ve never been and may never be able to go.

“The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else. From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’”  -Acts 17:24-28

P.S.  I finally found a “folder” I can put inside my binder!

#19. "Wait Time" is Important.

There is a term in education called "wait time," which refers to the amount of time between the teacher asking a question and eliciting a response from the student.  I was taught to allow at least 7 seconds "wait time."  That's not much in the grand scheme of things, but when you are silently staring at a room full of middle schoolers, 7 seconds can feel like an eternity.  The theory behind "wait time" is that it gives all students the opportunity to process the question and formulate a response before the teacher calls on someone.  Inevitably, though, what happened when I really did wait that long is someone would say, "Umm...what was the question?"

Sigh.

It was hard for me to wait, and it still is.  Waiting feels passive, and I want to be doing something.  I want to feel like I'm moving forward.  But sometimes, in education as well as in life, a period of "wait time" is exactly what we need in order to move forward.  There are lessons we learn in our wait time that we just couldn't if we didn't have time to process what is happening.  

For the past couple of years, I have been waiting and waiting to return to France...and now I'm finally here!  :-)  But that doesn't mean the waiting is done.  On the contrary, I have a new set of things to wait for:  waiting for an email to confirm an appointment, waiting to see a friend, waiting for the bus or the Métro, waiting for the day when I might be able to express myself freely in French.  In each "wait time," though, I can be confident that God has something to show me.  And when the time is right, He can and will act swiftly (see Isaiah 46:11, Isaiah 48:3, Habakkuk 2:3,14).  And then...it will be on to the next wait time.

Waiting at the bus stop...

#18. Incompetence is Ok.

Recently, I saw an episode of the TV show Mike and Molly in which Molly experiences a bit of an identity crisis after quitting her teaching job to pursue writing full time.  She even goes back to her old classroom to take a peek at her former students:

However, it becomes clear very quickly that she no longer has a place there.  The show was hilarious, but I truly did identify with Molly's feelings of incompetence and lack of belonging.

This past year has produced in me these same feelings as I left my full time teaching job to follow God's leading to France.  It's been a year of having hard conversations, sending emails until my fingers cramp, visiting unfamiliar places and cursing Google Maps for leading me astray once again, and substitute teaching...which it turns out, is not much like teaching at all.

I realized about halfway through the year that it had been a really long time since I actually felt competent at anything.  Although I certainly never felt like I had it all together as a teacher--I still have a lot to learn--I at least had a certain level of comfort, familiarity, and skill.  And I loved my job!  But more than once this year, I've found myself looking out at a group of students who probably could not care less about me as I've thought in my head, "You don't even know me!  I'm a nice person, and I'm actually pretty smart.  So please, be nice to me!"

This feeling of incompetence is not particularly pleasant, but I think it's actually a good feeling to have.  Because it means I'm no longer able to rely on myself at all; I have to rely on God completely.  And while I'm still not in France, I am getting closer...and then I'll experience a whole new level of incompetence as I navigate a new language, culture, and career.

So I am thankful for the lessons that God has taught me during this year of transition.  I'm not where I was, and I'm not where I'm going to be.  But that's ok, because I'm exactly where God wants me to be right now.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.   

-2 Corinthians 12:9

#17. It's Okay to Feel Overwhelmed.

At my recent cross-cultural training in preparation for ministry in France, I was asked to draw a picture (with my weak hand) that best described who I was at that point in time.  

This is me...

...lost somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, my heart torn between my current home in Missouri and my future home in France. 

I had been looking forward to this training for months.  Even though it will be a few more months before I leave for France, this felt like such a big step in getting me closer to that other side of the ocean.  

And it was:  both in terms of the physical requirements for me to go, and—even more importantly—in preparing my heart and mind for the move.  God has already done a lot of work in me over the past few years, but during training we were asked to dig down deep…really deep.  At times it felt like every layer of myself was being peeled off and stripped away, until I was left with just the core of who I am, exposed for everyone to see.  It was painful and yet freeing at the same time…plus we were all in it together.

I’ve never been great at articulating my feelings; it takes ages for me to process what is happening inside me and to put it in words that make any kind of sense.  And throughout this whole process, I’ve had so many different feelings that it’s been almost impossible for me to make sense of them all.  My logical side wants to take each thought and emotion and put it neatly inside the appropriate “box,” but I can’t, because there are too many things happening all at once.

So some of the greatest gifts God gave me during this program were visual, tangible metaphors that I can use to describe what is happening inside me…both for myself and for others.

I can have a “yay duck” that says, “I can’t wait to get to France!” and at the same time have a “yuck duck” that says, “I’m scared to leave my family and friends behind.”  

I can feel pulled in eight different directions at the same time by my expectations vs. reality, others’ expectations of me, and my own desires.

When I’m struggling to understand or be understood in a culture that is not where I grew up, I can remember that I need to “move my chair,” and that “different isn’t necessarily wrong; wrong is wrong.”

When I keep thinking of the word “chair” instead of “chaise,” I can remember that I need to “strangle my yellow balloon.”

When I think it’s too hard to change, I can remember Paul, who became all things to all men so that he might save some.

And when I feel totally overwhelmed, I can cry, “Father, help!” and know that He hears me.

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin.  Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”  

-Hebrews 4:15-16

Happy NaNoWriMo! (No Judgment.)

Several years ago at a writing workshop, I heard about NaNoWriMo…National Novel Writing Month, which takes place each November.  November was already my favorite month…fall, my birthday, beards, and now writing, too!  The concept is really simple:  "300,000 writers; 30 days; 50,000 words."  

I love to write, but spilling out words onto the blank page* is a daunting task, and too often I start editing myself even before I begin to write.  I have files and files of ideas, sentences, and half stories on my computer because I wasn’t able to bring them to life…or at least, not yet.  Even if I don’t show my work to anyone, sometimes just knowing it’s “out there” is taking a big risk.  

This past summer in France, I had a written exchange with one of my English students about art.  I said I love art, but I’m not a good artist.  She responded that it’s not right for me to say that, because it’s not possible to judge art.  So in the spirit of not judging (even myself) I’ve decided to participate in this year’s NaNoWriMo…because I can, and because it doesn’t matter if anyone else thinks what I write is good.  If you want to participate, too, it’s not too late!  Go to http://nanowrimo.org/ and sign yourself up!  I’m going to cut this short, because I have to get to work…I’ve got 1,666.67 words to write today if I’m going to stay on track.

*"You better worry," says the blank white page.  

"I have nothing.  Everything depends on you."

-Gina Briefs-Elgin, 

"Happiness and the Blank Page:  Csikszentmihalyi's Flow in the Writing Classroom"

#16. I'm Not Missing Out.

Lately I've been spending a lot of time talking about France and sharing some of the exciting things that God is doing there.  

Meanwhile, God has been introducing me to a lot of other exciting opportunities, too--coffee shops in London, children's clubs in Dominican Republic, sports camps in Germany, cycling in Rwanda, Child Evangelism Fellowship in Latin America, teaching English in the Middle East and Asia, tentmaker ministries in Haiti...and as I hear about what God is doing in all of these places, I feel little pangs of...is it jealousy?  I am so grateful for the opportunity that God has given me, and I know France is the place He has called me for now.  But when I hear about all of these other opportunities, I can't help but feel like I'm missing out!  Or at least I did feel that way.

But a few days ago as I was praying for some of these other ministries (and confessing my feelings of jealousy) I realized (i.e. God showed me) that I'm NOT missing out at all!  Missing out would be not knowing these other people and places and ministries exist.  But God has given me the opportunity to participate in not just one ministry, but ALL of these ministries by praying for and supporting my fellow brothers and sisters in Christ--what an amazing privilege!

There are many places in the world I would like to go, and I may never have the opportunity to set my feet on all of their soil.  But I can experience the places, the people, and the cultures through those who are serving there; and really, that is what being part of the body of Christ is all about. 

Yes, the body has many parts, not just one part.  If the foot says, “I am not a part of the body because I am not a hand,” that does not make it any less a part of the body.  And what would you think if you heard an ear say, “I am not part of the body because I am only an ear and not an eye”?  Would that make it any less a part of the body?  Suppose the whole body were an eye—then how would you hear?  Or if your whole body were just one big ear, how could you smell anything?  But that isn't the way God has made us.  He has made many parts for our bodies and has put each part just where he wants it.  What a strange thing a body would be if it had only one part!  So he has made many parts, but still there is only one body.

-1 Corinthians 12:14-20

I know that when God calls us to do something, He will provide the resources we need, but still I've been amazed and humbled by the generous outgoing of support I have received already from so many friends, family, and even strangers!  It is an incredible privilege and responsibility to invite people to invest in God's Kingdom in this way.  I hope and pray that I can do a good job of relaying the work that God is doing in France so that they can experience it, too, firsthand.

#15. It's Just Stuff.

Last spring I began the process of packing up my classroom and apartment as I moved one step closer to leaving for France.  I actually started making my packing list for France months earlier, so as I made decisions about what would stay and what would go, I kept repeating to myself:  It’s just stuff.  If I don’t need it, if I can’t use it, I’m not going to keep it.

The problem is that I’m so sentimental.  Everything I see, touch, and smell reminds me of a person or an experience, and that makes it hard for me to let go of anything.  But it’s just stuff.  I don’t need the objects to remind me of those people and places.  So with the exception of a few items (childhood memories in a trunk; books on a shelf; one file of science supplies—just in case) I took pictures of the things I worried I might forget and boxed all of it up.  

Everything I needed for now and for France came with me to my parents’ house.  Everything else went into storage to sell.  [Yes, everything, dad…except the bed.  ;-)]

And now it’s time!  Our garage sale is this Saturday, so for the past couple of weeks I’ve been reopening the boxes I packed a few months ago and carefully trying to organize and display it in the most appealing way possible.  And still, I have to keep reminding myself, it’s just stuff.

 

But it’s cool stuff.  It’s the dishes that I carefully picked out before I moved out on my own the first time.  It’s posters and teaching manipulatives I made and used at the best job ever with the best students and coworkers ever.  It’s antique dollhouse furniture that I played with when I was little and thought I might give my own daughter someday.  

But it’s just stuff.  And if I can’t use it, I might as well give it to someone who can.  They can use it, and they can make new memories with it.  That’s what stuff is for.  To be used.

Having more stuff doesn’t make you a better person or give you a better life.  Matthew 6:19-21 says, “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.  But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.  For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.”

I want my heart to be where God has called me to be—sharing His love and hope with others who need to hear it.  And I want to be free to go wherever He wants me to go and do whatever He wants me to do, without my stuff getting in the way.  So I’ve already decided when I leave for France, I’m only taking 2 suitcases with me…good thing I’ve already made my packing list.

I want my breakfast served at eight with ham and eggs upon the plate
A well-broiled steak I’ll eat at one and dine again when day is done.
I want an ultramodern home and in each room a telephone;
Soft carpets, too, upon the floors and pretty drapes to grace the doors.
A cozy place of lovely things, like easy chairs with inner springs,
And then, I’ll get a nice T.V.--of course, I’m careful what I see.
I want my wardrobe, too, to be of neatest, finest quality,
With latest style in suit and vest; why should not Christians have the best?
But then the Master I can hear in no uncertain voice, so clear:
“I bid you come and follow Me, the lowly Man of Galilee.”
“Birds of the air have made their nest and foxes in their holes find rest,
But I can offer you no bed; no place have I to lay my head.”
In shame I hung my head and cried; how could I spurn the Crucified?
Could I forget the way He went, the sleepless nights in prayer He spent?
For forty days without a bite, alone He fasted day and night;
Despised, rejected – on He went, and did not stop till veil He rent!
A man of sorrows and of grief, no earthly friend to bring relief;
“Smitten of God,” the prophet said--mocked, beaten, bruised, His blood ran red.
If He be God, and died for me, no sacrifice too great can be
For me; a mortal man, to make; I’ll do it all for Jesus’ sake.
Yes, I will tread the path He trod, no other way will please my God,
So, henceforth, this my choice shall be, my choice for all eternity.

-William “Smiling Bill” McChesney (1936-1964), missionary to Congo