Born to Teach

(I love this picture because in a way it is kind of like a real class.  You have the horse sitting up and attending the teacher while the little black cat is turned to face his "friend."  Then the horse closest to the left is face down.)

Today, when I arrived at school, I was beginning to set up to teach my class when something very surprising happened! A lady from our county's central office came walking through the door.  I didn't know her at first.  Yet, when she introduced herself to me, I knew exactly who she was and I was NERVOUS.  Our county's reading specialist was in to observe me by surprise.  Yikes! The thing of it was that I was technically supposed to be teaching this reading class that I am doing with another teacher because I was never formally trained in their reading program.  However, when the other teacher (who was actually trained) began working with me, it just so happened that I did much better with the program without any training at all.  So, she let me just take it over.  We were working fine that way.

Well, the only issue is that we weren't technically SUPPOSED to be doing that.  BUUUT it didn't make any sense for her to teach it and me to sit back and watch when I was having an easier time with it than she was.  So, needless to say, I was sufficiently freaked out when this woman walked through my door.  I just knew I was dead in the water.  

And, of course, to throw another curve ball into the mix, I have some children whose special needs make it difficult for them to adapt to any change of any kind.  So, they were not as responsive to my teaching this morning as they would have been had she not been in there.  They did not like having a lady in there watching them, and they were very nervous and resistant to say anything.  I had to really pull them out of their shells to get them to say anything.

Well, at the end of the session, the reading specialist and I sat down together to discuss what she saw.  Her first words were, "I cannot believe how well you are doing! Are you sure you haven't had any training?" I replied, "Nope, I haven't had any training at all.  I just picked it up." Her face was glowing and her eyes were beaming as if she had just hit a gold mine.  She told me that I have perfect classroom management, a great relationship with the children, and a natural ability to teach.  Of course, this made my morning.  In addition to all of that, she said that their county needs me, and that she hopes I will be around next year.  Then, she followed that up with, "Only in my life have I ever seen one other teacher with your abilities."  I'll tell you that I was on cloud nine.  She then went and told the principal and the assistant principal how happy she was with me as I was informed by the assistant principal.  She could not believe I was only in my third year because she said I seemed like I'd been doing this all my life.

Now, I know that all of those things sound like I am bragging.  The thing is that I had all but lost my faith in my abilities as a teacher around this time last year.  I worked with a teacher who did not agree with me on my methods of teaching, and I had honestly been ganged up on by a few people because of her.  She didn't like me because I pushed hard to make sure that we were taking our time to challenge all students and not sitting pretty on "ideas" that didn't work in reality.

I just had to hope and pray that, in due time and a new opportunity, the truth about who I am as a teacher would rise to the surface.  At the first school where I worked here, I was given tons of encouragement and support.  The excellent part of that was that there were video cameras in our rooms.  So, the things I did on a daily basis were seen AND heard by the administration all the time.  They saw me for who I was.  I switched jobs mostly because I needed to make some more money and I wanted the opportunity to be a reading teacher.  Now, at this new school, I have received one good observation from my assistant principal who came in on me by surprise a few weeks ago.  And now, I have a glowing review from the reading specialist who came in on me by surprise today.

All of these things can clearly counteract any falsehoods that were told about me.  I am so thankful that harsh and dishonest words about me have been defeated by other people's obvious random and unplanned observations.

I am so happy to feel like there is support behind me now and I feel invigorated to teach now.  I was told today that I was born to teach.  And I am starting to once again feel as though that is the truth.  

In the end, sometimes we won't go where God needs us to go unless we are forced in that direction.  If I hadn't been forced this way, I wouldn't have been given these opportunities.  I am counting my blessings.

Finding a Home for Hissy Fit

As far as I can remember, I have always had a special place in my heart for certain people. I honestly cannot explain why it has been those people in particular. I just know that my heart understood them and went out to them. My mother has said that I have never been "a respecter of persons." By this, she means that I don't judge people based on their financial situation, level of education, mannerisms, etc. However, I am (as are we all) a respecter of persons. There are certain people who I just don't understand. There are people who get under my skin.


Still, for some reason that is beyond me, I have been given a place in my heart for certain people. The first one that I personally remember is from when I was in the second grade. I befriended a girl with autism in my class. I didn't know she had autism. I just knew that most people thought she was too different to be worthy of befriending. Well, I felt for her. I also didn't understand why she had to be singled out. Sure, she was different. Yet, that stood out enough as it was. I didn't get why anybody had to draw any more attention to the poor girl. I remember distinctly showing her daily on the playground that she could do things she felt she couldn't. I would boldly go in front of her to demonstrate how there was nothing to be afraid of..like going across on the monkey bars..and she would follow after me. She would be so excited with her accomplishments. Even though I felt for her, I also struggled with the fact that being her friend sometimes made me an outcast too. So, now something has to be mentally wrong with me for choosing to play with the "weird" girl? It didn't make ANY sense to me and still doesn't.


The next event that I recall was a girl I went to school with who people teased because of the way she dressed. That angered me to the core! I remember thinking, "So, you feeling like you dress well, look good, and act perfect isn't enough? You have to go and hurt somebody else and for what??" Like I said earlier, though, I was just given a pain for her. It wasn't as if I felt this way toward every person. It was just certain people. I tried to be a good friend. My pride got in the way because I didn't like being left out. As I grew older, I learned that I would rather be "left out" and given weird looks than know that I chose to ignore somebody who needed a friend.


More recently, I had this same feeling again except it was toward a kitten. My cat had 5 kittens. One of them I named Hissy Fit because he was constantly throwing some kind of a fit. People would see him and easily figure out which one was Hissy Fit. The four other kittens found homes pretty easily because they were a little more "normal." But, you see, Hissy Fit was just unsure of the world around him, and I somehow understood that. I saw him as nervous and a bit scared, but dying to break out of his little shell if given the chance. So, I chose to keep him with the mother. Without the litter to overpower him, he blossomed into a confidant little thing. Even though I wanted to keep him and the mother, I realized I couldn't do it with a dog and in this apartment. Every day, there was a mess and it was because the dog was always chasing the cats and getting into stuff. So, I reluctantly offered them up to a GOOD home. I was hoping that whoever got Hissy Fit would see the sweetness in him and understand him. Fortunately, the lady who came for him COMPLETELY understood. She fell in love with him instantly. She saw how he was a bit timid, yet, very loving simultaneously.


Isn't it good that God sees beyond our mess and loves us? Now, there's somebody who is not a respecter of persons.

(This is hissy fit in my lap) :)

As Cheerful as a Chickadee

As Cheerful as a Chickadee

One pretty morning sitting up in the tree

Everyone could hear the little chickadee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Singing high and loud and as pretty as could be

He clung to his branch and belted merrily

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

But soon came around a cautious old crow

Saying, “Foolish little bird, what do you know?”

“Look up at the sky! It is cold and it’s dark”

“None of us are happy.  Not even the lark!”

“If you’re smart you’ll hush that chatter”

“The birds are asking what is the matter?”

Cocking his head and hopping around

The little chickadee flitted up and down

“You see gloom and I see glory”

“If you listen to me I’ll tell you my story”

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

“One thing I know is I am free

And I’ve been blessed abundantly!”

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

“So if the day is cold and dreary”

“I won’t let it make me weary”

“It’s a day. It’s a gift! I will sing it from my heart!”

“God’s creation is a work of art!”

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

That old crow had nothing to say

He would not stand in the little bird’s way

So he hopped and he bopped his head along

It turned out to be a catchy song

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Then bird after bird up in that tree!

Sang along to the song of that little chickadee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

The dark old clouds were not so gray

The cold all around seemed to melt away

Cheerfulness warmed the birds inside

They sang together both far and wide

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

So just remember if you think you’re sad

You can turn it around and just be glad!

Sing the song like the little chickadee

Make it a choice to be happy

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

Chickadee Chickadee Chicka dee dee dee

“This is the day which the Lord hatch made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.”

Psalms 118:24

My Body's Love Affair with FAT

For the last month, I have thrown myself back into a regular work-out routine. Two years ago, I was regularly running and lifting weights. I was competing in races, and I was feeling great. Slowly but surely, from 2007-2009 I allowed my body to develop a dangerous love affair with fat. WARNING: The longer you let your body hang onto fat, the more resistant it will be to letting go.


Yes, I have been arguing with my body over this unhealthy attachment I have allowed it to form. It says to me, "But fat is so soft and comfortable." I argue, "Yes, but it only weighs you down." I then provide an alternative. Lifting weights and running, I offer it muscle in the place of fat. "Oh this hurts!" It yells. "I know," I reply, "but while fat will weigh you down, muscle will lift you up. The pain is good." My body seems to disagree with this idea entirely. It doesn't want to move. It stiffens on me as if turning its back to me and snubbing the entire concept of muscle. This is much like a spoiled child who has been given only chocolate milk being told to drink water.


I persist, though. I know better. I've been on the better side. I know that fat is only deceptive. It offers comfort and rest--both enticing ideas. Yet, the good things that it offers end there. In the end, it is one of those tricky relationships. The fat draws your body in with those ideas, and you are almost in a trance.


My body fell hook, line, and sinker for fat. It was taken away with the smells of delicious foods..forgetting entirely the calorie and fat content. Before it knew what was going on, the fat was slowly on its way in. All it does is come into your life, move in and take up space.


My body says, "All of this fat is providing me warmth." I plea with it, "At what cost? After it has moved in and taken up all of that space? You can't even fit into those cute jeans you love anymore! Can't you see the havoc it has wreaked?" I sigh in frustration. My body is totally clutching on to fat with all it has. It does not even realize that fat is a selfish partner. It claims peace and rest but only for itself! For you, it makes its way to your heart in a BAD way. It will CRUSH it in the end if you let it go on.


So, I tell my body that, although there are some things fat has to offer, you must wise up. Do not listen to it. Make way for muscle. Does it hurt to let muscle in? Oh yes it does, but you see muscle is one of those relationships that takes time. You build muscle up. It doesn't feel good at times, but those are only the trying parts that are making the relationship stronger and better. Muscle moves in slowly too. YET, it is very considerate. It does not take up much space. It helps your blood flow. It supports your heart. Allow a little pain for a little while, but you can be slow about it. Muscle is very patient and flexible if you take your time with it.


So, tonight, as I marched toward the torture chamber of fitness, my body sensed the smell of Chinese food from the restaurant next door wafting through the air. It tried to lure me in. I said, "NO! We are going in." My body didn't like this whatsoever. It said, "You are going to work out for how long?" "60 minutes,"I reply. "Oh please no," it begs and pleads with me like a small child clinging to a bottle. My eyes are fixed ahead and I silence the cries. My response is, "A good relationship takes hard work, time, and dedication." I resolved that, for my body, I'd go the extra mile. So, instead of running three miles tonight, I ran four.


Yes, I had to ignore the pleas and cries of longing for that old sedentary, yet comfortable, relationship. I had to push on. In the end, I showed my body what was better. It calmed down and actually felt better in the end. "Was that so bad?" I finally say. "Actually, not at all," it responds, "let's do this again sometime."


MORAL OF THE STORY: The longer you let your body form an attachment to fat, the harder it will be to sever the relationship. BUT, if you just persist, it will understand what a good relationship is and accept Muscle as the better partner.

Church is Where the Heart is

My search for a new church here has been an interesting one.  At the same time, it has made me well aware of exactly what I want in a church and what I believe a church should be.  I think once you find the one that you know is right, you feel it in your HEART. When that feeling is not totally there, you know you need to continue looking.


My church hunt has left me feeling like GOLDILOCKS because there was just a little something that made me feel the church was not JUST RIGHT for me.


I started out going to a place down the road.  I liked it in a sense because the people there were very friendly.  I did think it was very considerate of them to reach out to me the way that they did. However, after I listened to some sermons, I just didn't feel right about it.  I do not believe that God is a formula who you can just add up 1+2=3 and say you've got it and go on.  That's what I got out of that church.  Every sermon gave you a formula for how to be a Christian, and I just didn't feel like I was getting much out of it. (MAMA BEAR)


Then, I attended a Baptist church with some family members in the area.  I really enjoyed being there with them.  In the end, though, I actually felt the church was a little big to be my home church.  I felt the need for something smaller and more intimate. (PAPA BEAR)


So, I searched 30 pages of churches online one Sunday morning to see if I could find something that seemed right to me.  I settled on one that seemed okay (I didn't feel that "just right" feeling), and I couldn't find anything better.  So, I just went there.  I was the least satisfied with this one because I felt like I was at a concert.  I just didn't feel like I was worshipping God.  Others may have, and that's great if they did.  For me, I just felt like I was being entertained.  I don't need entertainment, and I didn't really even want it. (UNCLE BUCKY BEAR...I just made him up because I needed an "out there" bear)


After my search, I came to a point where I actually had a set of criteria.


1.) I want a church that isn't trying to prove itself to me as to what it can do for me.  I want one that is not too big.  Some place where I feel like I'm with family.
2.) I want a church that is willing to sing some old-fashioned hymns and not only contemporary music.  While contemporary music has its value, there is nothing wrong with a good hymn to me.
3.) I want a church that doesn't STRESS about DRESS.  In other words, don't be all about wearing jeans/dressing down OR all about dressing up.  Let people dress how they want to honor God.  I personally prefer dressing up because I'm going to the Lord's house.  But others would be focused more on themselves in that kind of dress.  But why is our dress a point that matters? Doesn't our heart to GOD matter more?


I really was wondering if I was going to find this when I happened upon a church's website last week.  It was a Christian & Missionary Alliance church, which did not sound familiar to me.  So, I asked my parents what that was.  Their website sounded great.  Plus, they had posted sermons online for me to hear, and I liked what I heard.  It turns out that one of my favorite veterans of the faith, A.W. Tozer, pastored several CMA churches.  Therefore, I became very excited to attend.  Oddly enough, the church was EVERYTHING I was hoping for down to the last point.  I couldn't believe it.  A nice woman came up to me and invited me to sit next to her.  The church had people of all ages, and I really felt as though they were all there to focus on Jesus.  It was so soothing and comfortable.  My heart felt at HOME. (BABY BEAR)

“In almost everything that touches our everyday life on earth, God is pleased when we're pleased. He wills that we be as free as birds to soar and sing our maker's praise without anxiety.”

- A. W. Tozer

Come SNOW or high water....I will get there...

I really didn't see myself doing a blog, nor do I actually think anybody will be interested in reading it. However, I have found I have more time on my hands these days and I have been itching to write things I've been thinking and feeling. Most of what I think and feel is pretty boring. So, this blog is more of a way for me to release things that are bouncing about in my head than it is to entertain or enlighten anyone.

This weekend, I went down to Georgia to spend Valentine's Day weekend with my husband. I actually wasn't sure if I should go or not initially. I really wasn't able to take the time off of work, and I also did not have the energy to make the drive. There were a few reasons, though, why I felt it was important for me to go. One of these reasons was that he only gets so much time off where he can just be with me. I figured that, since these times were so few and far between, I really ought to seize them while they are available. So, I found a plane ticket to Atlanta for a decent price and decided to fly there and back over the weekend.

Usually, this would have been the most reasonable option. Yet, of all weekends for it to snow in Atlanta, it just HAD to be the weekend that I decided to fly there. My first flight was set back about an hour because my connecting airport had shut down and refused to let any more planes fly in. Then, the plane I was on had to be de-iced before we could leave. My original flight was to leave at 6 pm and arrive at 7 pm. I was then to connect on another plane that would leave at 8 pm and arrive in Atlanta at 9 pm. My husband and I were both checking to make sure that the flights were not cancelled. Well, as I was in the air on my first flight, my second flight, that had been marked as "on time" before take-off, was cancelled. Plus, I did not get in to the airport until close to 9 pm. So, I rushed to the gate that just so happened to be on the other side of the airport and explained my situation to the lady at the desk.

She said that the flight was booked, but that she would put me on standby for a flight set to leave at 10:20 as well at the next one out at 8 am the next morning. Due to the snow in Atlanta, every other flight going there that Friday had been cancelled starting from earlier on that morning. People were desperate to get there. They were literally swarming the gate and asking about ticket prices, flying first class to get there, etc. etc. There were at least 60 people on standby and I clearly did not believe there was any chance I'd make the flight. I heard people relaying stories to one another about how they'd been waiting all day for this flight. I'd merely been waiting 30-45 minutes for it. I told my husband that, if I made that flight, it would be a miracle because loads of people were in front of me trying to get on it. Only 4 flights had gone in to Atlanta and ours would be the 5th one. My husband told me to stop being so negative but he couldn't see the crowds of people desperate to get on that plane! I sat there saying to myself, "Rebecca, don't be selfish. There are other people here who need to get on this plane too. If you don't get it, it's okay." But my feelings wanted to say otherwise. So, finally, they announce the plane was boarding and everyone literally cheered. They boarded the people who had an assigned seat on the plane. Then, they started calling standby passengers by name. They called about 20 names (none of them being mine) and I waited anxiously hoping that I would not have to sleep at the airport or find lodging. Surprisingly, my name was called! I ran to the desk and gave them my pass with my name on it, and they gave me a seat in exchange! I was the LAST name called for that flight and received the LAST seat available! I thanked the Lord. I just could not believe it.

Once on the plane, I was in a middle seat in the back. I didn't mind because I had a seat. We began to roll away from the gate and I let my husband know that he could head to the airport because I was on the plane. He then began to leave the hotel room for the airport.

The pilot came overhead about 20 minutes after we started to taxi out and told us that our plane needed to be de-iced. He said that there were 20 planes needing to be de-iced and that it takes about 20 minutes per plane. The guy next to me said, "If I'm doing my math right, that's 7 hours!" Panic ensued on the part of almost all of the passengers. But I said, "There's no way it will take 7 hours. They'll have to find a way to de-ice more than on plane at a time because they can't waste that many hours and flights." Well, sure enough, about 40-60 minutes later (I'm not sure exactly how long) the pilot came on saying we were plane #7 to be de-iced. I texted my husband to tell him about that only to find out that he was now stuck in traffic not moving at all!!

Our plane moved to the line and an hour later we were deiced. I texted my husband. He was still in the same spot as before.

After take-off, it was one hour until we arrived in Atlanta. We touched down at about 2 am. I told my husband I'd arrived. And he said, "Well, get comfortable because I still haven't moved!"

At the airport, I decided to get something to eat because I hadn't eaten since 5 am and I was pretty hungry. While I was eating my meal, he called me to say that traffic finally started moving. He had been stuck sitting still for 3 hours because of so many accidents caused from the snow. Of course, this was all from less than 1 inch of snow!

Even though he was moving, he still had 40 miles to go. So, I sat down and waited patiently for him. The airport in Atlanta resembled a homeless shelter because people lined the walls, chairs, and benches asleep from being stuck there. I did find it hilarious when I heard people groaning about how they'd "been stranded" there. Ha!Ha! I'm still laughing about that now! Stranded??? Are you kidding me? I wanted to comment to them about that out loud and say, "Being at an airport with food, water, shelter, electricity, a bathroom, and everything you need for survival is HARDLY being stranded. Try living on an island with NOTHING. Now THAT is stranded." Honestly, I'm sure this isn't just an American thing, but I feel that as Americans we are often so over-indulgent and selfish. We want everything as comfortable and easy as we can possibly have it at all times and, if not, then so help us. This is really sad because what would we do if we were really without all of our daily conveniences? Could we survive? Shouldn't we try our best to be thankful to the Lord no matter WHAT? And if we complain in small circumstances like this, how will we sustain any type of hardship?

Anyway, I had gotten on a tangent. Finally, my husband arrived at the airport at around 4:15 am. I ran out to meet him, I hugged him, and I cried because I was so utterly happy to see him. I thanked the Lord for bringing us to each other safely and giving us both perseverance and peace throughout the trip. For the rest of the weekend, we had a great time. We spent some much-needed time together and cherished every moment of it.

I really do miss him right now. I really do love him.