craziness.

I just realized that I never finished blogging about the retreat that I went on at the beginning of the month. I excitedly started writing that day, but the post ended up on a cranky note because of the day's events... But that wasn't the intention! Because the end of the weekend was an extremely profound moment that I'll keep with me forever. (Mind you, I'm writing this after eating lunch in 4th period, the sound of my co-teacher's voice seeping through the walls and so hopefully it won't lack the fervor I was hoping for in the first place...)

Back to the weekend--the last day found us worshipping in the woods. Literally. There was an area set up outside near the lake where we gathered after breakfast, towing a copy of our life story in hand. It was a beautifully breezy morning; we were surrounded by towering oak trees with moss hanging off the branches. I was brought back to the sweet moments of worship at camp as we'd gather around the wooden cross in the woods, resting and recharging to start another week with campers.

 I can't quite remember what our leader spoke about, but it was something along the lines of, "Okay, you've shared your story, so now what?" We were told that when we felt ready, we were to walk alone on a quiet path, eventually leading up to a cross near the lake where we'd nail our stories to the cross. I honestly was thinking that the exercise was a little lame and cliche, because Ive done something like it before where we wrote down our greatest 'sin' and nailed it to the cross as well. We started to pray on our own, and I could NOT for the life of me stay focused--- I wasn't sure what to pray for, kept getting distracted, etc. I finally stood up and got in line for my walk, and even then, I was distracted, but kept attempting to go back to the Lord, asking, "What are you trying to tell me right now? Where do you want me to go from here?"

Right when it was about to be my turn, a thought popped from nowhere into my head: I realized that I am crazy in love with my husband. It's not like I wasn't before, but just the thought of him filled my chest with a puppy kind of love-- like pitter patters and all that stuff. But the interesting thing was, right after that thought popped into my head (if you remember I was struggling that weekend with hearing stories of cheating husbands and internalizing all of that fear) the woman standing behind me says interrupts my thoughts and said,  "I strongly feel that in this moment that I'm supposed to tell you to TRUST your husband. That even though you're hearing all these crazy stories, the Lord wants you to love and trust him, that those stories of mistrust and decepotion aren't your own." i found it comforting that at the same time the random thought about Michael entered my head, the woman behind me had the same sort of revelation and felt compelled to share it.

 It was time to start walking the woods, alone. As I strolled I tried to imagine myself walking along with Jesus, like we're going on a hike in the woods. I reached the end of the path where a couple leaders were waiting, smiling and pointing towards the cross. And I kid you not, the strangest thing happened to me. All of the sudden, I felt emotions that I had when I crossed the threshold into the church on my wedding day and saw Michael waiting for me at the end of the altar. I truly felt like the Lord was whispering into my heart that I am His beloved first and foremost, and I literally felt like I was walking down the aisle again towards God waiting for me at the end. I was so overcome with emotion and felt so loved in that moment-- it was crazy! It was like everything came together-- not feeling adequate, not feeling loved or accepted....God wanted me to know in that moment that I am his beloved and He is so absolutely in love with me. I know it might sound weird to think of yourself as the bride of Christ, but this concept is backed up by scripture in the Bible- the Lord wants us to develop an intimate relationship with Him, much like you do with your husband on this earth.

Since that weekend, I kid you not-- my life is different in sweet, subtle ways. I feel freer, more alive-- like the Lord is making me into a new creation. These past couple of weeks He's tried to teach me what it's like to be in communion with him, through His Word, through prayer, through songs, community, people. It's been difficult to fully wrap my mind around. I'm responding to situations with a different perspective, more so out of love rather than the fear or anger that I harbored before.

Excited to see what else He has in store!

I fear this post will sound a bit silly, but bear with me.

For the four years I've been here, I've always wanted to be awarded Willy the Wildcat.

The previous winner awards him to another deserving teacher, where he hangs out in the classroom until the next faculty meeting. I know this sounds ridonculous, but it is a HUGE honor to be awarded Willy. Everyone's been stopping by my room congratulating me and I almost cried when the teacher who awarded it to me read off why I was the next recipient. I know this sounds lame, because there's really nothing else to it. You get a giant, stinky stuffed animal named Willy (who is sometimes referred to by our principal as "Big Willy" which incites snarky snickers from a few of us with gutter-minds...)

But the sweet part about being awarded Willy today, of all times, was that I was in such a dark place during our faculty meeting. Truly, I was seething with a mixture of emotions and literally felt like a huge weight was resting on my chest. The extremity of my emotions honestly came from nowhere-- we were talking about incorporating more culture into our classrooms, and what teacher are already doing and yada yada yada and I was so irked that we were referring solely to honors students and what about the teachers who have only non-honors who are expected to go on reading programs for 45 minutes of each class and who can only focus on nonfiction texts and aren't allowed to do novel studies and on and on and on which then catapulted into well maybe you should have focused more on this throughout the year and you're doing a disservice to our kids who need to learn these important life lessons and now you're out of time because the school year's almost done and what HAVE you even taught them this year other than here's how to read a passage on the FCAT?

That's just a slight glimpse into my mind. I was about ready to EXPLODE.

So anyways, the meeting is over and I'm dying to get back to my room for a good ol' fashioned cry session when the teacher starts reading off characteristics of this particular teacher. And I knew it was me.  It took everything I had to calm the heck down so I wouldn't have a meltdown in front of all my peers... to accept Willy with grace...

I then beelined back to my room, huddled into the napping corner (seriously, I have squishy pillows wedged into the corner of my room where teachers seek solace after the students leave...) and lost it.

The tears flowed because I knew Willy was appropriately timed by God as a gentle reminder that He is using me to love these broken-hearted kids. That this teacher took notice of how much I care about them and the little things I do to make sure they feel that they are worth it and SO loved (not just by me, but all of our amazing teachers at this school!) That in the middle of the hopelessness that tried to seize my heart (so quickly and out of nowhere!) God fought for me and He won.

All with a stupid stuffed animal :)

Random Tuesday Musings

I HAVE to be better about posting. Only three times this March? Not acceptable. And especially not acceptable to post during homeroom!

I miss my quiet times on the porch, contemplating life and savoring the calm breeze that seems to be a permanent occurance in our neighborhood. Homeroom just doesn't give off the same vibe...

On another note, this weekend brought an impromptu bowling extravaganza. I rocked the first game and stunk the second. Typical.

Gotta love those SHOES!!

I also spent a ton of time in the yard, planting colors, weeding, and in the garden. Here's a sneak peek of some of the purchased goods:

On an unrelated note, I saw goats yesterday and felt compelled to pull the car over to say hello.

And oh, this face!

Feeling more like myself again-

Last week was just, well, weird, but weird in a good way.

As I'm learning to live out God's love in a more intimate way,

my daily routines and interactions with people are beginning to change.

Last week, I had way more grace than I've ever had in situations with the hubs that prior to the weekend away,

 would have cut me to the core.

 I was able to forgive the people in education who I'd felt had destroyed my spirit, because God says he'll judge me with the same wrath that I harbor against others, (and that's quite the scary thought!)

I literally feel lighter, freer, like I've regained the hope that I felt was lost.

(Not to be dramatic, but I really was in a hopeless, dull place that I felt I couldn't escape.)

What was lost (my identity in Christ) has been redeemed, restored, forgiven.

The weekend was filled with child-like joy and rest as I soaked up every minute with life-giving experiences. I've savored the sweet moments with my husband as I've been praying to return to the newly-wed state that we *technically* can still be categorized under.

I'm crazy about that boy- and the Lord is gently reminding me of his amazing qualities that make him my soul mate. It's not that I didn't realize these things about him-- I just think I was so wrapped up in my own junk and unfair expectations that I let the negativity fill the gap rather than allowing God to make me whole.

Anyways, last weekend was lovely.

The beach sun seeped into all of my insides as we napped (even Diego was feeling the love) and whispered sweet promises of Spring Break and ultimately, the rejuvination of summer.

We enjoyed blue grass at the Seafood festival, where I FINALLY bought a mug in the glazed style that I've been coveting for years.

(It's the little things..)

St. Patty's day was celebrated outside, in our favorite part of town. Green beer, Irish Carbombs, and bacon macaroni and cheese for late dinner. No pictures necessary, just pure imagination.

And, no posting is complete without pictures of the child. On Dad's side, clearly choosing to point his rear end towards the pillow.

Good boy.

Quite the Weekend

I've been putting off writing how special this past weekend was to me, because I'm unsure I can even put it into words. But as I sit here sipping my Fat Tire and enjoying the sweet September breeze, watching everyone else go for a bike ride, I think I'll try. 

To start, last week was HORRENDOUS. Not even going to go there-- but I somewhat made a vow that it's time for a life change, whatever that means. 

The truth of the matter is, I'm so dependent on words of praise to function. I need to hear reassurance from Mike speaking words of love into my heart. I thrive on praise from work to know that I'm doing a great job. And when those words fail to come, I'm crushed. (Too bad for my poor, sweet husband who is a man of few words...) 

Working through my life story (I had to write down my ENTIRE life then share it with my group,) I've realized that my life has been filled with rejection. Although minor, and nothing compared to what the women in my group have faced, my identity was based on this feeling of inadequacy. 

I was partly raised by my wonderful Granny, who loved the heck out of me but was strict and critical towards my precocious self. Middle school, I was teased like crazy for being a dork- I dressed funny, I was in the gifted program-- I was just weird in general. High school, didn't quite get along with my volleyball coach (understatement of the century...) College, tried out for music education program. Twice. Rejected, twice. 

Teaching? FULL of rejection. Ha.

(Day three in attempting to write this post...) 

So bring all this rejection into a marriage, and you're going to have a girl who is easily triggered into feeling inadequate. And OH has it been an internal struggle. 

Wouldn't it be nice to say that this weekend freed me from every feeling lonely or not good enough ever again? Well, healing definitely occurred. But it's going to be a long process. Even as I sit here in bed, waiting for Hubs to come home from a work party, I can't help but feel, well, alone, even as I keep telling myself, 'Don't go to there.'  

Like I said, gonna be a long process. 

There's more to this story but I think I'm done for now. 

Cheers to the weekend...

Here's to:

*Arriving at home and immediately commencing to weeding the yard, because the sunshine/internal yard work/gardening clock told me to do it

*Catching up on two episodes of Glee

*cleaning the whole house in preparation for tonight's Indian food dinner party. And I'm not cooking!

*Diego asleep on the couch next to me

*THE WEEKEND IS HEREEEEEEEEEEEEEE


Oh, and PS. The truck is parked at the church. For good. As in, nuts and bolts fell out of the steering column and now I can't get it out of neutral. Nice.

So cheers to that as well!