The anthropologist in me is rational-- logical. So, let's think logically for a minute or two. Logically, it doesn't make sense that any religion, let alone Christianity, is correct. If anything, all of us should either 1) adhere to the teachings of Zoroastrianism (Google it), because it's the oldest religion of which we have record, or 2) believe only in that which can be observed through our senses. Makes sense. Facts, facts, facts.
Certainly, things have changed since that first Christmas. It's a
fact. For starters, Christ was not born on December 25. Lights.
Trees. Rudolph. Gift exchange. Most of our Christmas rituals today
more closely resemble pagan tradition rather than Christian tradition.
(That's all right, though. I recognize that cultural influences often
mingle with pure doctrine.) Some people only see Christmas as an excuse
to get a few days off work and spend time with friends and family. For
the businessman, it might be the chance to capitalize on the
materialistic nature of gift-giving. Take all of that away, and what's left? A baby, His virgin mother, and some shepherds.... So, what's the big deal?
Here's another fact for you: Jesus of Nazareth was, indeed, a person who truly lived. It's a fact. No respectable scientist would dispute that. Then, logically, His life meant one of two things. Either 1) He was a Jewish man who addressed religious and social corruption through "radical" teachings OR 2) He was the Son of God, born of Mary--a virgin--in Bethlehem, who not only addressed religious and social corruption, but also took it upon Himself to correct every injustice and corruption ever. Seriously, ever.
It's a simple "yes" or "no" question. Was Jesus who He said He was, or was He not? There's no in-between or "sort of" answer here. While it may seem illogical, the anthropologist and Christian in me both agree (for reasons we'll address in a later post): Jesus of Nazareth was (and is) the Son of God. Wonderful. Counselor. The Savior of Mankind.
But what does that mean? Why is it so important that a little baby was wrapped in swaddling clothes and laid in a manger over 2,000 years ago? Sure, He grew up to teach some really wonderful things. As the song says, "Truly He taught us to love one another. His law is love, and His Gospel is peace." (O Holy Night, 3rd verse). But is that what sets Him apart? Last time I checked, a lot of other exceptionally wise people also taught some insightful concepts to their followers. Buddha. Gandhi. Mohammed. To name a few.
What, then, is so significant about Jesus Christ? What sets Him apart from these others? Why bother celebrating His birth and life?... Remember those questions. We'll come back to them later.
My personal perceptions of Christmas have evolved a little overtime. While bouncing around in the living room with my sisters, wearing matching pajamas, and singing "All I Want for Christmas is You" and "Santa Baby" isn't totally out of the question, the depth and meaning of Christmastime has attached itself indefinitely to my heart. I'm kind of like the reformed Grinch or Scrooge, I guess. Christmas means more to me now, because Christ means more to me now.
But why? (Look back at aforementioned questions.)
Injustice, cruelty, hatred, corruption, greed.... All of these exist in full-force today. Although I wish it wasn't true, children are abused (and never dream of getting a Christmas present), honest people starve, families suffer from illnesses that they can't afford to see treated, natural disasters destroy entire cities, and the bad guys win sometimes. And it's not fair! Not fair at all! The complexities of the challenges faced by mankind in general is, to say the least, overwhelming and gut wrenching.
That's not even to mention the very personal, individual challenges that each of us have to undergo. Whether a 4th grade teacher in Colorado or a homeless orphan living on the streets of Dubai-- pain and suffering is not general. It's individual. How many of us have caught ourselves crying out in despair, "No one understands me. No one knows what I'm going through right now." And it doesn't matter if our pain is comparatively minimal-- like dealing with a bad day at work-- or substantial-- like watching a child suffer through painful medical treatments. Pain is pain. Suffering is suffering. Sometimes we deserve it, but usually we don't.
That's why Jesus Christ is important. That baby boy born in Bethlehem would, one day, grow to be the man who would take those horrible things upon Himself, in spite of the unfairness of it all. Those generic circumstances of human suffering-- yeah-- He felt it. Those individual circumstances where we cry, "No one understands,"... He understands perfectly. Again, to quote a song, "He knows our need. To our weakness is no stranger." (O Holy Night, 2nd verse). My stubbed toe, that really bad stomach flu, that broken heart, that Mother's worry, that family's loss. He felt it all. All of it. Willingly, He felt it! Out of love, He felt it. That's why He's different.
But, that's not all. He didn't just feel all of that. Jesus Christ, somehow, overcame all of that. As the only perfect man to walk the Earth, as the literal Son of God, He was the only one who could do it. I don't begin to profess that I understand how the laws of justice and mercy were met in Him, but I trust Him when He says, "Be of good cheer. I have overcome the world." That's not a figurative statement, by the way.
Because Jesus of Nazareth was born, everything that is cruel and wrong and unfair about life will be corrected. Even in the darkest of times, "the wrong shall fail, the right prevail" (I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day). Perhaps some of the results of our Savior's actions won't be realized until all is said and done. However, His peace can immediately enter in and soothe our troubling hearts as we celebrate His life throughout the year.
And that's a fact.
PS-- Favorite Christmas Songs that teach this message:
Hallelujah
O Holy Night
I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day
(Definitely do this one!!!) O Come, O Come Emmanuel
Hallelujah Chorus
For Unto Us a Child is Born
Tuesday, December 24, 2013
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Marriage: For Time and All Eternity
This last Thursday marked a very important day in the history of my family. My big sister married my new big brother in the Temple. The ceremonies are always very simple but very powerful by nature. In Mormon culture, you might hear of people being "sealed" rather than being married. That's because a marriage is "until death do us part." A sealing is "for time and all eternity."
After the ceremony, we met up at the location of the reception. Words really can't do justice to how much fun those receptions are. It's a genuine celebration of two people, and their children--whether current or future, making one giant step forward in their eternal progression. It's a celebration of sincere gratitude that a family is to be eternally intact. Personally, I spent the night dancing with the cutest people at the wedding-- my nieces and nephews. When it was finally time to pack up for the night, all of the kids starting wailing in unison: That's how I know that we had had a successful evening. Then came clean up and going home our separate ways.
That's always the worst part. Going home without the family. Certainly circumstances sometimes need to take us in separate directions, but it doesn't make it any easier. Especially not when a little niece sobs into your dress and whispers, "I will miss you. I love you so much!"
My sister's wedding/sealing has everything, and nothing, to do with the subject I want to write about tonight. It's a topic that's been weighing on my mind for some time now, one that I've felt burdened to address. I've put it off, because I realize how sensitive of a subject it is, and I likewise realize that my thoughts on the matter may lose me some friends and family. Please, understand that I'm merely trying to voice one side of an argument that isn't often expressed. I recognize that I'm setting myself up to sound an unprogressive bigot with an uneducated mind and a closed heart. I recognize that I'm setting myself up for criticism and hateful rebukes-- that some might call me condescending or self-righteous. But, I guess that's OK. Some really great people have been called those things before, so I suppose I'll be in good company.
So-- let's get down to it. Let's talk about gay marriage. But, before we do, let me illustrate some points that I have been taught and believe are true, so that the foundation of my argument makes sense.
The answer is love. Pure love-- without malice or expectation of reciprocation. It's God's love for us. It's our love for Him. It's our love for each other. This, above all else, is the key to answering our "dilemma."
Let me put it this way: My classroom window faces our school parking lot. (This will make sense-- I promise.) There's a door by the window that leads directly to the front of the school and parking lot as well. One day, I noticed some students playing in the parking lot after school let out. They were running along the curb where the school busses usually park. I know that these students had been instructed not to do this, because I-- along with many other teachers-- had warned these students to be safe, especially when waiting for the bus. Still, though, they made their choice. Their choice was to play on the curb. Let me ask this: should I have been a person who would stand by and let them choose that option? Shouldn't it just be all right with me to let them do with their lives what they want? Because I love all the students at my school, to some degree, I absolutely could not stand by and let them risk endangering themselves. I ran from my room and pulled those kids back to the safety of the grass just as the busses pulled in just where they had been running. Then, I gave them a very stern lecture about how I was worried for their safety and that better choices were necessary if they expected to stay away from danger.
Think back, then, on the principles I believe. That God loves us. That He can see dangers that we cannot, and that He sets up the rules and guidelines accordingly. I have to realize that going contrary to His teachings can be just as spiritually dangerous to an individual as playing in front of oncoming traffic can be physically dangerous to a child. So, I can either stand aside and watch people put themselves in these precarious positions-- that will not end well eternally-- or I can love my neighbor enough to do everything in my power to keep them from that danger. It's not because of bigotry, hatred, or misunderstanding. It's because of love. How can I stand by and watch a beloved child of God hurt themselves?
I also have to realize, especially when it comes time to vote, that it doesn't really matter what I say or what society says is correct. While, yes, I believe that people should be free to choose, I have to remember that I don't really make the law. The laws have already been irrevocably decreed in Heaven-- I don't know why they have to be the way they are. They just are. No amount of votes is ever going to change what is already set. Even if we vote and decide that the sky is now made of marshmallow crème, even if everyone agrees to it, we still will not have changed the sky. Not really. God is God, and we are not. I, then, don't vote for how I believe the law "should" be. I vote based on how Heavenly law was, is, and always will be.
I'm a jerk, huh? I know that philosophies like this really dig deep and hurt a lot of people who deserve to feel accepted. Who deserve to feel loved. Who deserve to lead fulfilling lives. I don't begin to claim to understand the struggles a homosexual faces-- I can't imagine how difficult their particular set of challenges must be. Quite frankly, it's not my right to even say that I'm better, just because my set of challenges is different. Again, that's why love is so important. That's why love needs to be the motive in all we do.
While I may not understand what it's like to be told that my body shouldn't function a certain way, I do understand what it's like to wait. I know what it's like to feel different and judged. I know what it's like to be told that I'm living my life incorrectly. I know what it's like to feel misguided and manipulated by others to fit into their mold of what they think I should be. It hurts. But it's a necessary part of life if one expects to be refined. That's the point. We just have to decide, do I trust and love God enough to overcome this, or do I give in to my natural and carnal self? Do I take the easy way out-- instant gratification? Or do I fight the fight until the battles won and God is able to bless me with more than I could have ever imagined? Do I love Him enough to overcome the unholy person I'm inclined to be?
Again, I want to say that these thoughts are not meant to hurt or demean. These thoughts are meant to breed understanding of where I, and so many others, stand. I don't mean to criticize or make little of others' situations. I do, however, mean to love my fellow man enough to encourage all to "come unto Christ and be perfected in Him." Because that's what life, marriage, and family is all about.
After the ceremony, we met up at the location of the reception. Words really can't do justice to how much fun those receptions are. It's a genuine celebration of two people, and their children--whether current or future, making one giant step forward in their eternal progression. It's a celebration of sincere gratitude that a family is to be eternally intact. Personally, I spent the night dancing with the cutest people at the wedding-- my nieces and nephews. When it was finally time to pack up for the night, all of the kids starting wailing in unison: That's how I know that we had had a successful evening. Then came clean up and going home our separate ways.
That's always the worst part. Going home without the family. Certainly circumstances sometimes need to take us in separate directions, but it doesn't make it any easier. Especially not when a little niece sobs into your dress and whispers, "I will miss you. I love you so much!"
My sister's wedding/sealing has everything, and nothing, to do with the subject I want to write about tonight. It's a topic that's been weighing on my mind for some time now, one that I've felt burdened to address. I've put it off, because I realize how sensitive of a subject it is, and I likewise realize that my thoughts on the matter may lose me some friends and family. Please, understand that I'm merely trying to voice one side of an argument that isn't often expressed. I recognize that I'm setting myself up to sound an unprogressive bigot with an uneducated mind and a closed heart. I recognize that I'm setting myself up for criticism and hateful rebukes-- that some might call me condescending or self-righteous. But, I guess that's OK. Some really great people have been called those things before, so I suppose I'll be in good company.
So-- let's get down to it. Let's talk about gay marriage. But, before we do, let me illustrate some points that I have been taught and believe are true, so that the foundation of my argument makes sense.
- There is, in fact, a God.
- God is God, and I am not.
- God is, in a very literal way, a Heavenly Father whose purpose is to help us achieve perfection and eternal happiness.
- The surest way to achieve that perfection and eternal happiness is through following the commandments of God. Those who do not follow these commandments cannot enjoy their full potential in life or in the life to come.
- The thing that will give us the greatest eternal happiness is being eternally "sealed" (or belonging to) our families.
- The family consists of a mother, a father, and their children.
- No one is perfect. Everyone is has a personal set of challenges that best mold our spirits into what Heavenly Father would have us become. If we trust Him enough to overcome those set of challenges. God doesn't give us the challenges, but He does allow us to struggle through them.
- An individual should be allowed to choose which path they'll take in life. No one should ever be forced to conform to someone else's beliefs.
The answer is love. Pure love-- without malice or expectation of reciprocation. It's God's love for us. It's our love for Him. It's our love for each other. This, above all else, is the key to answering our "dilemma."
Let me put it this way: My classroom window faces our school parking lot. (This will make sense-- I promise.) There's a door by the window that leads directly to the front of the school and parking lot as well. One day, I noticed some students playing in the parking lot after school let out. They were running along the curb where the school busses usually park. I know that these students had been instructed not to do this, because I-- along with many other teachers-- had warned these students to be safe, especially when waiting for the bus. Still, though, they made their choice. Their choice was to play on the curb. Let me ask this: should I have been a person who would stand by and let them choose that option? Shouldn't it just be all right with me to let them do with their lives what they want? Because I love all the students at my school, to some degree, I absolutely could not stand by and let them risk endangering themselves. I ran from my room and pulled those kids back to the safety of the grass just as the busses pulled in just where they had been running. Then, I gave them a very stern lecture about how I was worried for their safety and that better choices were necessary if they expected to stay away from danger.
Think back, then, on the principles I believe. That God loves us. That He can see dangers that we cannot, and that He sets up the rules and guidelines accordingly. I have to realize that going contrary to His teachings can be just as spiritually dangerous to an individual as playing in front of oncoming traffic can be physically dangerous to a child. So, I can either stand aside and watch people put themselves in these precarious positions-- that will not end well eternally-- or I can love my neighbor enough to do everything in my power to keep them from that danger. It's not because of bigotry, hatred, or misunderstanding. It's because of love. How can I stand by and watch a beloved child of God hurt themselves?
I also have to realize, especially when it comes time to vote, that it doesn't really matter what I say or what society says is correct. While, yes, I believe that people should be free to choose, I have to remember that I don't really make the law. The laws have already been irrevocably decreed in Heaven-- I don't know why they have to be the way they are. They just are. No amount of votes is ever going to change what is already set. Even if we vote and decide that the sky is now made of marshmallow crème, even if everyone agrees to it, we still will not have changed the sky. Not really. God is God, and we are not. I, then, don't vote for how I believe the law "should" be. I vote based on how Heavenly law was, is, and always will be.
I'm a jerk, huh? I know that philosophies like this really dig deep and hurt a lot of people who deserve to feel accepted. Who deserve to feel loved. Who deserve to lead fulfilling lives. I don't begin to claim to understand the struggles a homosexual faces-- I can't imagine how difficult their particular set of challenges must be. Quite frankly, it's not my right to even say that I'm better, just because my set of challenges is different. Again, that's why love is so important. That's why love needs to be the motive in all we do.
While I may not understand what it's like to be told that my body shouldn't function a certain way, I do understand what it's like to wait. I know what it's like to feel different and judged. I know what it's like to be told that I'm living my life incorrectly. I know what it's like to feel misguided and manipulated by others to fit into their mold of what they think I should be. It hurts. But it's a necessary part of life if one expects to be refined. That's the point. We just have to decide, do I trust and love God enough to overcome this, or do I give in to my natural and carnal self? Do I take the easy way out-- instant gratification? Or do I fight the fight until the battles won and God is able to bless me with more than I could have ever imagined? Do I love Him enough to overcome the unholy person I'm inclined to be?
Again, I want to say that these thoughts are not meant to hurt or demean. These thoughts are meant to breed understanding of where I, and so many others, stand. I don't mean to criticize or make little of others' situations. I do, however, mean to love my fellow man enough to encourage all to "come unto Christ and be perfected in Him." Because that's what life, marriage, and family is all about.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Gramps
My father's father-- or Gramps, as we lovingly call him-- is my favorite kind of person. He was himself. No show or misguidance for the sake of impressing others-- just Gramps. He was, at times, a little rough around the edges, being the sailor and railroad man that he was. For those of us who really knew him, though, he was about as genuinely loving as a person can be. It's been a little over five years since he's passed, but this time of year always brings his memory to the foreground of my thoughts.
You see, I was born on Gramp's birthday. With our birthday just around the corner, it's hard not to reminisce about him and what he meant-- and means-- to me. He always said that I was his best birthday present, and I believe that he wasn't fabricating that. He was truly happy that I was born, and even happier that we'd be celebrating our birthdays together from that time forward. When I turned 9, our birthday fell on a Sunday. In order to celebrate, Gramps bought me the most elaborate, beautiful pink corsage he could find (because he knew I'd be wearing a pink dress) and bought himself a matching boutonniere. We wore them to church. Whenever anyone would ask him why we decided to dress so formally for church, he would beam and say, "Because my granddaughter and I are celebrating our birthday."
I'm still getting used to this whole "birthday by myself" concept. I wonder how others get by without a birthday buddy, because it's sure hard for me. Regardless, I am so grateful for the birthdays I shared with that man. In order to honor him this year, I thought it would be nice to maybe describe some of the gifts-- or life lessons-- which he taught me during his time on Earth.
You see, I was born on Gramp's birthday. With our birthday just around the corner, it's hard not to reminisce about him and what he meant-- and means-- to me. He always said that I was his best birthday present, and I believe that he wasn't fabricating that. He was truly happy that I was born, and even happier that we'd be celebrating our birthdays together from that time forward. When I turned 9, our birthday fell on a Sunday. In order to celebrate, Gramps bought me the most elaborate, beautiful pink corsage he could find (because he knew I'd be wearing a pink dress) and bought himself a matching boutonniere. We wore them to church. Whenever anyone would ask him why we decided to dress so formally for church, he would beam and say, "Because my granddaughter and I are celebrating our birthday."
I'm still getting used to this whole "birthday by myself" concept. I wonder how others get by without a birthday buddy, because it's sure hard for me. Regardless, I am so grateful for the birthdays I shared with that man. In order to honor him this year, I thought it would be nice to maybe describe some of the gifts-- or life lessons-- which he taught me during his time on Earth.
- Appreciate beauty. Gramps had quite the artistic eye, a talent he has passed on to many of his posterity. While Gramps was not always the most patient man, he could somehow sit for hours sketching with his pencil or charcoal. He always appreciated a beautiful piece of art. A box of his old art supplies sits in one of my closets now, and it's still used-- on occasion-- to create works intended to make the world a bit more beautiful.
- Don't let circumstance define you. Gramps loved his mother very much, but never had a lot to say of his father. Nothing good anyway. Even though I never knew my great-grandfather, I'll respect him enough to not go into detail. What I will mention is that Gramps, statistically, should have ended up a man very similar to the man his father was. Instead, he chose another path-- a better one. He was not content to pass onto others what was unfairly given to him. He rose above the circumstance.
- Be aware of others' needs. There are too many stories to share here of Gramps being aware of others. Through his observance of others and their needs, Gramps not only saved a few hearts from breaking or a few tears from falling-- he also saved a few lives that needed saving. In a very literal way.
- Appearances aren't as important as character. As mentioned above, Gramps was a rough-and-tumble kind of guy, born and raised in Wyoming. He knew how to work hard and humbly provide for a family. He never cared much about looking good. He cared about being good. To Gramps, it didn't matter if a person were a wealthy city-slicker passing through town or a poor, farming family with unkempt clothes: Gramps would take them all as they were and respect them for it. It was their conduct and kindness that determined his thoughts of them.
- Music and Jesus. Gramps always used to tell us that it was his goal to make sure his posterity loved two things-- music and the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Without a doubt, Gramps is a major contributing factor in my ability to sing and play instruments. Without a doubt, he's also a major contributing factor in my own faithfulness in following the teachings of Jesus Christ.
- Be curious. Gramps was always tinkering with stuff. If he ever had a question about something, he'd either research (you know, call up the experts) or take stuff apart. I recall many times going to visit Gramies and Gramps, only to find Gramps huddled over something on the kitchen table. Wires, wood, plastic-- I never knew what it was he was doing, but it looked important. He told me once that he felt over-educated, that it was unnecessary for one, such as himself, to know so many things. He said it with a chuckle, and then told me, with a twinkle in his eye, to make sure that I never get too smart.
- Prayer works. During WWII, Gramps served in the NAVY on the ship Wichita. (Here's a link if you would like to know more about his ship: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Wichita_(CA-45) Everyday aboard the ship, Gramps would go to the tip of the bow and say a prayer for the ship's safety and everyone's safe return home. During his time aboard, the ship and its crew went through hell-- truly, it did. It fought in many naval battles that should have left it sunk, including a battle in which the Wichita was hit by a torpedo which, miraculously, failed to detonate. In all that time, only one sailor lost his life aboard the Wichita. Some might believe that it's coincidence and luck that got my Gramps and the crew out of the war alive. I like to think that the prayers of a young sailor have something to do with it.
- Decide what you stand for, and never give in once you've decided. Aboard the Wichita, Gramps was confronted with many conflicts of lifestyle. One of those had a great deal to do with alcohol. Maybe I'm making it up (although I really don't think that I am), but I recall a story of Gramps getting confronted by one of the "meanest, nastiest sailors on the whole ship." Knowing that my Gramps was a Mormon, and, therefore, didn't drink, this sailor confronted my grandfather and told him that the choice was-- essentially-- drink this alcohol, or all of us are going to beat you up. Without hesitation, Gramps said something to the effect of, "Well, get on with beating me up then, because there's no way in h*** that I'm going to drink." Impressed with his convictions, the sailors left him alone after that.
- True love is never forgotten. Toward the end of his life, Gramps couldn't remember a lot of things, but one thing he never forgot: The first time he saw Gramies. He could recall how she had her hair, what she was wearing, and where she was sitting in the chapel-- "smack dab in front of [him]." That was his favorite story to tell, and he never forgot it.
- You don't need a reason to be kind. When I was a junior in high school, it was a favorite pastime of mine to go to the mall and try on clothes. (Don't ask why. I'm a girl, or something, OK?) During one of my trips to Dillard's I fell in love with a beautiful, princess cut prom dress. It looked great on me too, as though it had been patterned to belong to me forever and ever. Unfortunately, it was not on sale and triple-digit too expensive-- and wasn't going to go on sale any time soon. I reluctantly put the dress back on its rack, but I often frequented the store just to see if it was still there, always crossing my fingers that it would be so that I could, at least, try it on one more time. As fate would have it, I was trying the dress on again one weekend (to show my sister, I think). When I came out of the dressing room, I saw Gramies and Gramps walking through the store. I waved to them, and they came over. They thought the dress was beautiful and asked if I was planning on buying it for the upcoming prom. I explained that it was a bit too pricey for me. Without further conversation, Gramps was insisting that he and Gramies buy the dress for me. They did. No reason, just because they loved me. I don't think I ever truly expressed how thankful I was for that gesture.
- Don't get caught up on trying to be perfect. Just do your best. Rough around the edges is right. Something I've definitely inherited from Gramps is his ability to swear at inanimate objects when they don't work like they're supposed to, or when I do something stupid that, in turn, makes an object do something stupid. Exhibit A: piece of s*** lawnmower, or Exhibit B: d*** microwave. When I got my learner's permit, Gramps offered to take me driving so that he could teach me how to swear at the other drivers. Check and check! I remember another time in Church when Gramps was talking loud enough that the people five pews in front of us could hear him. My mom passed him a kindly written note asking him to pipe down. He scribbled something and passed the note back to my mom. It said, "So excommunicate me then." No, he wasn't perfect, but perfect enough.
- Take care of your family, especially the little ones. From the time that my siblings and I were young, all the way to the end of his life, Gramps fiercely loved his family. He found no greater joy than in spending time with us. Baking fudge. Trying to teach us to play the harmonica. Teaching us to play billiards on the pool table in the basement. Raking up leaves and letting us jump in. Rescuing me from the crabapple tree when I climbed too high to get myself down. Instructing us on the finer points of poker. Pushing us on the swing. Fixing our bikes. Every time he'd hold a new grandchild or great-grandchild he'd say, "You can have all the cars, boats, and houses in the world-- but nothing compares to this."
- Endure to the end. Up until his death, Gramps never missed Church. Even when his strength was waning, he'd still get up and put on that suit and tie so that he could be at services 30 minutes early, so he could greet others when they came in. I pray that I can be as diligent when I reach my 80s.
- Death doesn't separate families from their loved ones. Shortly after Gramps passed, I served as a missionary. Although one can describe what mission service is like, I don't think it's something one can truly comprehend unless they have served a mission themselves. What a difficult thing it can be at times! There were days when I would ask myself, "Why? Why put yourself through this?" Even with incredible companions (assigned missionary partners), I would sometimes feel very alone. I would cry, wishing that someone familiar were there to help me through. Because missionaries are only allowed to contact their families weekly through emails and semi-annually through phone calls, reaching out to my family for support was out of the question. On those really hard days-- and there were several of them-- I found it interesting that it felt as though my Gramps was cheering me on. I somehow knew that he knew. I knew that he was proud of me. Even in death, he wasn't content to let me waste a minute of my precious time, especially when that time would be spent in the service of others.
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Circumstantially Thankful
I suppose I'm a bit late to start blogging about gratitude now that Thanksgiving has passed. Oh well. While it's great to have a day (or week, or month) set aside for gratitude, I find it more helpful to remind myself to be thankful throughout the year. Not just because November told me to be. (Yes, that's a sentence fragment. No, I don't care.)
Every year, my family has a tradition to get together the weekend after Thanksgiving for another post-Thanksgiving dinner. This year, Aunt and Uncle (who shall remain unnamed) did an excellent job of pulling it all together. About 200 of us gathered for an afternoon of just enjoying each others' company (and Grandpa's mashed potatoes and gravy). These are the moments I wouldn't trade for anything and the moments for which I am deeply thankful.
However, it's become more and more evident with each family gathering that I am a disappointment to some of my extended relatives. Unlike their own children, I have not married at 19 (or 20, or 21, or... you get the point). I've never been congratulated for graduating college (with a 3.9 GPA, by the way), working towards a Master's degree, serving a mission, learning to SCUBA, buying a house.... Sometimes they ask how work is going, but I can tell how some aren't really interested in the answer.... None of it matters compared to my failure to marry, I guess. It's always the same. "Where's your boyfriend? What do you mean you don't have one? Why not? You need to get on that." Although I know their gentle reprimands are meant to encourage me to find greater fulfillment in life, I often wish I could show them-- if only for a moment-- what it means to be in my position-- single yet fulfilled. I know they want the best for me, but I can't help but feel emotionally spit on when my current circumstances are so detested. Way to add insult to injury.
At these family functions, I tend to get a lot of pity too. My relatives find that my life is lacking, and they try to appropriately express how sorry they feel for me. To that, I try to bite my tongue and respond with kinder words than I instinctively wish to use. Don't feel sorry for me! You see, in a way, I feel sorry for those who haven't been able to see life through the scope of my experiences. Yes, I know I have missed out on a lot of growth and learning to be done within a marriage; however, I am nonetheless still living, thriving, and learning a great deal that (sorry, married folks) those who marry at young ages won't get to learn in the way that I have. I repeat: Don't feel sorry for me.
In that sense, I am profoundly thankful for the lessons I've learned (and continue to learn--some just yesterday) during my time as a single girl in a culture that values marriage and family above all else. Here's my list of lessons learned that I will forever cherish:
Every year, my family has a tradition to get together the weekend after Thanksgiving for another post-Thanksgiving dinner. This year, Aunt and Uncle (who shall remain unnamed) did an excellent job of pulling it all together. About 200 of us gathered for an afternoon of just enjoying each others' company (and Grandpa's mashed potatoes and gravy). These are the moments I wouldn't trade for anything and the moments for which I am deeply thankful.
However, it's become more and more evident with each family gathering that I am a disappointment to some of my extended relatives. Unlike their own children, I have not married at 19 (or 20, or 21, or... you get the point). I've never been congratulated for graduating college (with a 3.9 GPA, by the way), working towards a Master's degree, serving a mission, learning to SCUBA, buying a house.... Sometimes they ask how work is going, but I can tell how some aren't really interested in the answer.... None of it matters compared to my failure to marry, I guess. It's always the same. "Where's your boyfriend? What do you mean you don't have one? Why not? You need to get on that." Although I know their gentle reprimands are meant to encourage me to find greater fulfillment in life, I often wish I could show them-- if only for a moment-- what it means to be in my position-- single yet fulfilled. I know they want the best for me, but I can't help but feel emotionally spit on when my current circumstances are so detested. Way to add insult to injury.
At these family functions, I tend to get a lot of pity too. My relatives find that my life is lacking, and they try to appropriately express how sorry they feel for me. To that, I try to bite my tongue and respond with kinder words than I instinctively wish to use. Don't feel sorry for me! You see, in a way, I feel sorry for those who haven't been able to see life through the scope of my experiences. Yes, I know I have missed out on a lot of growth and learning to be done within a marriage; however, I am nonetheless still living, thriving, and learning a great deal that (sorry, married folks) those who marry at young ages won't get to learn in the way that I have. I repeat: Don't feel sorry for me.
In that sense, I am profoundly thankful for the lessons I've learned (and continue to learn--some just yesterday) during my time as a single girl in a culture that values marriage and family above all else. Here's my list of lessons learned that I will forever cherish:
- Don't judge others. "Don't you want a family?" "Your career is obviously an excuse." "You're just scared of losing your independence." "You're not trying hard enough.".... I've heard it all. Yet, these cruel comments usually beg for the reply, "You don't know where I've been. You don't know what I've had to go through to get where I am." How, then, could I point an oblivious finger toward the beggar, the broken family, or the rude clerk at the grocery store?
- Losing face is not the end of the world. I've found that more strength comes from being humble than in being arrogant. My life may have the mark of disapproval from many, but it doesn't matter. Where others may see failure, I see opportunity for growth.
- Some people want to hurt me. Not everyone is kind, and I need to respect myself enough to stand up to those people. I need to respect myself enough to keep these kinds of people out of my life.
- Not everyone wants to hurt me. In spite of unfortunate experiences with those mentioned above, not all people are bad. I need to take risks sometimes and let people into my life even though experience would teach me to trust no one.
- Taking care of oneself is important. It's important that I remember to love myself. In so doing, I am able to enjoy the solitary moments and appreciate my own company. As I take care of my physical, emotional, and spiritual self, I grow as a person. I won't be able to resent myself or my situation, because I'll always be able to rely on myself.
- Taking care of others is important. Bitterness toward humanity is not an option.
Through caring for others, being dependable, and demonstrating honesty in all my interactions, I am able develop genuine and lasting friendships both inside and outside of my family. - It's all right to both accept and reject advice. Enough said.
- Disappointment happens, but life and responsibility don't pause to let us nurse our wounds. Sometimes the money I save up gets sucked out of my savings to pay taxes, fix the brakes, or buy stain for the fence (that I then, subsequently, have to stain by myself). Sometimes the dog eats my favorite bird. Sometimes that guy I've been trying to get to ask me out suddenly announces that he has no interest in me and wants to date my friend instead. Sometimes data meetings at school make me feel as though I'm the worst teacher in the world. But I still have to get up and keep on keeping on. I can't rely on someone else to coddle me and take my problems away. I have to stare those problems in the face, emotional as I may be, and tell them that they will be resolved-- that I am not destroyed.
- Patience truly is a virtue to be practiced... and practiced... and practiced.... Patience is trust-- trust that all good things truly do come to those who wait... even though, while we wait, terrible things may befall. Patience is more than just waiting too. It's moving forward with goals. It's understanding that maybe those good things we wait for won't come until the next life. And that's OK. They will come.
- It's all right to be successful and not feel sorry for it. I learned a new term over the weekend. "Intimidation factor." (Thanks, Obispo!) Apparently, girls who are successful are intimidating. So intimidating, in fact, that it scares the guys off. My question to this was, "Does this mean I have to become less successful if I want to get a boyfriend?" Absurd, right? Why lower my expectations when, truly, it's the gentlemen who should be raising theirs?
- It's not enough to do the right thing. It must be done for the right reason. It's easy to make good choices when others are watching. When I'm with my students, or my nieces and nephews, or any children-- I'm especially aware of how important it is to set a good example for them. At work, with my colleagues, it's the same. When surrounded by family, I feel encouraged to make good choices. Why, then, should it be any different when I'm with myself? I could get away with a lot now, and no one would ever have to know. I've learned that I need to stubbornly do the right things, not because others are watching. I need to do them, simply because they are the right thing to do.
- Time is a gift. Using time wisely isn't always my greatest strength. (Thanks, Netflix.) BUT, due to not having kids, I am able to use my time in ways to develop my own talents. Whether it be checking the air pressure on a tire, fixing a leaking pipe under the sink, or becoming a fairly talented chef (if I do say so myself), there is never reason to be bored. Why limit myself when it comes to taking on new skills? Old dogs can learn new tricks.
- Love comes in many forms. How's my love life, you ask? It's fabulous! I love so many people. Just recently, as I took my niece shopping for a new outfit, I thought my heart would burst every time I looked at her. It's the same feeling I get whenever I hold my nephews, watch ridiculous internet videos with my siblings, or listen to my parents tell stories from "back in the day." I feel such love in return when my kindergartener niece tells me, "I will love you five-ever, because forever isn't long enough." (Pause and say, "Awww!!!" Adorable, right?) I have friends whom I love (yes, LOVE) scattered throughout the world (yes, WORLD). I love so many people that I hardly have the time to stay in touch with all of them. So, how's my love life? Keeps getting better. How's yours?
- The Lord does not forget anyone, and he never chooses to leave anyone behind. By far the most personal lesson I've learned is this. Many years worth of lonely moments have brought me to my knees on numerous occasions. I've felt forgotten and betrayed by others. I've felt left behind as I've watched those my age, and now those much younger than me, get married and start families. I've shed many tears asking the Lord why I'm not good enough yet to be a mother. I've cried myself to sleep many times wondering why I was chosen to fulfill the roles which I'm in when there are other roles I'd rather be filling. I've struggled through making difficult decisions without the aid of much-prayed for inspiration. I've learned that sometimes the answers to my prayers are "yes." (Although, that response doesn't come as often as I'd like it to.) I've learned that sometimes the answers to my prayers are "no." (And thank goodness!) Most often, though, the answers to my prayers are "not yet" or "I trust you." With every prayer, though, I receive the assurance, "I love you. You are not forgotten, and every promise I have made will be fulfilled in its proper time and way. Trust Me."
Saturday, November 9, 2013
Best Effort
Let's talk about the 4th Grade Slump. It's a thing. A real thing. (Feel free to Google it.) It's a thing that I've been thinking a lot about lately, because it's a thing that usually happens to lower-income students around 4th grade. In a nutshell, once students hit 4th grade, the gap between students who "can" and students who "can't" grows immensely. Believe it or not, some 4th graders score better on their beginning-of-the-year exams than they do on their end-of-the-year exams.
As embarrassing as it is, some of those 4th graders who inexplicably decline in their academic understanding have been in my class. After all, my kiddos are prime targets for such a thing to happen. According to studies, many of my kids are those who are "supposed" to be on the bottom end of that achievement gap. That's not OK with me. Stupid 4th grade slump.
I combat the odds, and I make sure my students know it. They're well aware of this "slump" thing, and they're constantly encouraged to rise above it. I'm weekly, if not daily, looking at data and homework and classwork to see if my kids are progressing or slumping. It's always a mini-victory whenever I see that even one student has progressed, even if it's only slightly. Even if it's only in one subject. Improvement is improvement.
However, behind every "failure" is a heartache. With every "F" that I assign, I wonder if my student has failed me or if I have failed my student. Inevitably, I spend hours, at times, planning little changes to my lessons in hopes that I'll reach those students who, for some reason, aren't getting it. (Maybe if I mention outer-space or Hotwheels or Sponge Bob in my next lessons, they'll be more engaged. Maybe if I ask better questions or differentiate or scaffold.....)
You see, I look at little Jimmy or Bobby or Suzie, and I see them in terms of their potential. I don't think they all need to be doctors or lawyers or astronauts or presidents-- unless they want to be. Honestly, I just want them to be happy adults. To me, happiness is success; and the surest way to help my students find that happiness is by equipping them with whatever skill sets they'll need in their future endeavors.
This last week, as I scoured over the dozens of data points, I realized something. I can always do better as a teacher. I can always work myself into the ground to help these kids bridge that achievement gap. But I'm only a human. I can only give my best effort, and my students can only give theirs.
But what about those days when my best effort isn't very much? Maybe I have a migraine or cramps or I spent the night throwing up. Or maybe I'm heartsick or worried for a loved-one. Maybe I'm disappointed because the 49ers lost to the Ravens. (That was a sad week. Definitely didn't have much to give then.) At any rate, I have to make peace with those circumstances. I have to forgive myself for being mortal. My best effort may vary from day to day, but I had better make sure that each step I make is the absolute best that I can give at that moment in time.
I think about my kids too. Even if I were a perfect teacher, I guarantee that there would still be some students who slump. In Mormon lingo, it all boils down to agency. Agency: people are allowed to make their own decisions-- no one should be forced into believing or doing anything. All people, even children, are allowed to act for themselves and let the consequences follow, for better or worse.... It's like that old adage: You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.... While I'm striving to do my best, I realize that some of my little guys are not striving to do theirs. What then?
And what about those little ones who are giving their best effort. They're giving it all that they've got-- yet their achievement isn't high enough. If it were up to me, tenacity would be just as important as I.Q. I find myself constantly praying for my kids in this category. I pray that someday their efforts will be met with the success (aka happiness) they deserve.
One last thought: We're all students, in a way. Hopefully we take advantage of our time here in life to learn, to learn new things daily. Hopefully we take advantage of our time by not just doing good things, but also by being good things. As I write this, I can't help but think of a Master Teacher who, through word and example, shows what it truly means to put forth one's best effort. I know that not everyone thinks Jesus Christ is the Messiah, but I do. I believe He did all that He could do in order for me to find success/happiness now and forever. He doesn't ask much in return. Not really-- only a humble heart and a teachable spirit. All He needs from me, in order for me to overcome my own personal slumps, is my best effort. He'll make up the difference.
As embarrassing as it is, some of those 4th graders who inexplicably decline in their academic understanding have been in my class. After all, my kiddos are prime targets for such a thing to happen. According to studies, many of my kids are those who are "supposed" to be on the bottom end of that achievement gap. That's not OK with me. Stupid 4th grade slump.
I combat the odds, and I make sure my students know it. They're well aware of this "slump" thing, and they're constantly encouraged to rise above it. I'm weekly, if not daily, looking at data and homework and classwork to see if my kids are progressing or slumping. It's always a mini-victory whenever I see that even one student has progressed, even if it's only slightly. Even if it's only in one subject. Improvement is improvement.
However, behind every "failure" is a heartache. With every "F" that I assign, I wonder if my student has failed me or if I have failed my student. Inevitably, I spend hours, at times, planning little changes to my lessons in hopes that I'll reach those students who, for some reason, aren't getting it. (Maybe if I mention outer-space or Hotwheels or Sponge Bob in my next lessons, they'll be more engaged. Maybe if I ask better questions or differentiate or scaffold.....)
You see, I look at little Jimmy or Bobby or Suzie, and I see them in terms of their potential. I don't think they all need to be doctors or lawyers or astronauts or presidents-- unless they want to be. Honestly, I just want them to be happy adults. To me, happiness is success; and the surest way to help my students find that happiness is by equipping them with whatever skill sets they'll need in their future endeavors.
This last week, as I scoured over the dozens of data points, I realized something. I can always do better as a teacher. I can always work myself into the ground to help these kids bridge that achievement gap. But I'm only a human. I can only give my best effort, and my students can only give theirs.
But what about those days when my best effort isn't very much? Maybe I have a migraine or cramps or I spent the night throwing up. Or maybe I'm heartsick or worried for a loved-one. Maybe I'm disappointed because the 49ers lost to the Ravens. (That was a sad week. Definitely didn't have much to give then.) At any rate, I have to make peace with those circumstances. I have to forgive myself for being mortal. My best effort may vary from day to day, but I had better make sure that each step I make is the absolute best that I can give at that moment in time.
I think about my kids too. Even if I were a perfect teacher, I guarantee that there would still be some students who slump. In Mormon lingo, it all boils down to agency. Agency: people are allowed to make their own decisions-- no one should be forced into believing or doing anything. All people, even children, are allowed to act for themselves and let the consequences follow, for better or worse.... It's like that old adage: You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink.... While I'm striving to do my best, I realize that some of my little guys are not striving to do theirs. What then?
And what about those little ones who are giving their best effort. They're giving it all that they've got-- yet their achievement isn't high enough. If it were up to me, tenacity would be just as important as I.Q. I find myself constantly praying for my kids in this category. I pray that someday their efforts will be met with the success (aka happiness) they deserve.
One last thought: We're all students, in a way. Hopefully we take advantage of our time here in life to learn, to learn new things daily. Hopefully we take advantage of our time by not just doing good things, but also by being good things. As I write this, I can't help but think of a Master Teacher who, through word and example, shows what it truly means to put forth one's best effort. I know that not everyone thinks Jesus Christ is the Messiah, but I do. I believe He did all that He could do in order for me to find success/happiness now and forever. He doesn't ask much in return. Not really-- only a humble heart and a teachable spirit. All He needs from me, in order for me to overcome my own personal slumps, is my best effort. He'll make up the difference.
Sunday, October 27, 2013
Modesty
It's that time again. That time when a collective, silent scream emerges from every teacher's ready-for-Thanksgiving Break-weary mind. Halloween. Classroom management tactics are put to the test as the count-down to Halloween begins (usually around the same time WalMart starts advertising for it). Children find it hard to focus on lessons unless those lessons are directly related to how much candy they'll get or who'll have the best costume this year. And it doesn't end at Halloween either. The day after Halloween is much, much worse. Students are either on a sugar high (and passing candy to each other like it's cocaine) or on a crash that leaves them asking to see the nurse every five minutes.
I get it, though. Halloween is fun. It's a nice escape from reality when we're entitled to wear a costume, act like someone else, and be a little silly. (I guess Comic Con is pretty much the same... but I digress....) This year, I'm going to be Belle from Beauty and the Beast. As I try on my nearly-finished costume, I can't help but want to start singing about how boring my provincial life is..... Candy is always a plus. I even like those peanut butter chewy candy things that my siblings hated.
Here's what I think is awful about Halloween, though, and it's definitely a problem us girls need to address. Modesty. There's something goofy about Halloween that would turn an otherwise wholesome girl into a whorish play boy bunny. (I don't capitalize it, because it doesn't deserve to be.) I don't care if it's Halloween or Mardi Gras or a cruise vacation: We need to stand our ground, stick to our modesty, regardless of the occasion. In the words of Jeffrey R. Holland, "We never check our religion at the door." Even a person who isn't religious can find purpose in dressing modestly at all times.
I'm not saying everyone has to dress like an Amish person (not that there's anything wrong with that). Nor am I saying that a woman's body is shameful. (Please, friends, you're talking to a girl who used to work at Victoria's Secret.) What I am saying is that the way we dress says a whole lot about how we perceive ourselves.
Honestly, I don't understand the temptation to dress immodestly. Growing up, I had a little (very little) purple tube top thing.... I hated that thing. I tried it on once, and-- could you believe it-- it showed my belly-button! Heaven forbid! I couldn't have been more than 3 or 4 years old, and I felt uncomfortable showing my tummy to anyone. No one had taught me to be that way, I just was. I think most children--after getting over the running around the house naked stage-- understand that it's inappropriate to show too much of ourselves (if you know what I'm saying).
To this day, I would never consider wearing something revealing, and it's not because I don't think I could pull it off. (You better believe I could rock that Wonder Woman costume.) I don't do it because I know I could, but in so doing, I would destroy every effort I've made to be taken seriously as a thoughtful, meaningful person. Does dressing immodestly get a woman attention? Absolutely. Can it give her the upper-hand in her interactions with men? I suppose it depends on what she's trying to get at.... Seriously, girls, if you have to sink to such vile tactics to seek attention and approval, perhaps you need to take a long look at your self-esteem. No truly confidant woman (or girl) would ever need to seek attention or approval from anyone, because she already achieved approval from herself. Love yourself. Leave that nasty nurse costume in the store (where it belongs).
It all boils down to respect. Do I respect myself enough to be appreciated for who I am and not what I look like? Do I respect my body enough to present it to the world in a way that doesn't diminish its value? Do I respect men enough to help them maintain virtuous conduct in their interactions with me? Do I respect the children in my life enough to set an example of modesty for them to follow? Do I respect God enough to portray my body in a way that is pleasing to Him?
When I look at the great women of this world, I can't think of one who would allow herself to be objectified. Not on Halloween. Not in a bathing suit. Not ever. Modesty isn't old-fashioned. It's a necessity for girls who wish to be truly happy.
Because modesty is so important to me, I love to help others find places to shop for modest clothes. Check out a few of my favorite sites:
http://www.downeastbasics.com/
http://www.mikarose.com/
http://junieblake.com/bottoms.html
I get it, though. Halloween is fun. It's a nice escape from reality when we're entitled to wear a costume, act like someone else, and be a little silly. (I guess Comic Con is pretty much the same... but I digress....) This year, I'm going to be Belle from Beauty and the Beast. As I try on my nearly-finished costume, I can't help but want to start singing about how boring my provincial life is..... Candy is always a plus. I even like those peanut butter chewy candy things that my siblings hated.
Here's what I think is awful about Halloween, though, and it's definitely a problem us girls need to address. Modesty. There's something goofy about Halloween that would turn an otherwise wholesome girl into a whorish play boy bunny. (I don't capitalize it, because it doesn't deserve to be.) I don't care if it's Halloween or Mardi Gras or a cruise vacation: We need to stand our ground, stick to our modesty, regardless of the occasion. In the words of Jeffrey R. Holland, "We never check our religion at the door." Even a person who isn't religious can find purpose in dressing modestly at all times.
I'm not saying everyone has to dress like an Amish person (not that there's anything wrong with that). Nor am I saying that a woman's body is shameful. (Please, friends, you're talking to a girl who used to work at Victoria's Secret.) What I am saying is that the way we dress says a whole lot about how we perceive ourselves.
Honestly, I don't understand the temptation to dress immodestly. Growing up, I had a little (very little) purple tube top thing.... I hated that thing. I tried it on once, and-- could you believe it-- it showed my belly-button! Heaven forbid! I couldn't have been more than 3 or 4 years old, and I felt uncomfortable showing my tummy to anyone. No one had taught me to be that way, I just was. I think most children--after getting over the running around the house naked stage-- understand that it's inappropriate to show too much of ourselves (if you know what I'm saying).
To this day, I would never consider wearing something revealing, and it's not because I don't think I could pull it off. (You better believe I could rock that Wonder Woman costume.) I don't do it because I know I could, but in so doing, I would destroy every effort I've made to be taken seriously as a thoughtful, meaningful person. Does dressing immodestly get a woman attention? Absolutely. Can it give her the upper-hand in her interactions with men? I suppose it depends on what she's trying to get at.... Seriously, girls, if you have to sink to such vile tactics to seek attention and approval, perhaps you need to take a long look at your self-esteem. No truly confidant woman (or girl) would ever need to seek attention or approval from anyone, because she already achieved approval from herself. Love yourself. Leave that nasty nurse costume in the store (where it belongs).
It all boils down to respect. Do I respect myself enough to be appreciated for who I am and not what I look like? Do I respect my body enough to present it to the world in a way that doesn't diminish its value? Do I respect men enough to help them maintain virtuous conduct in their interactions with me? Do I respect the children in my life enough to set an example of modesty for them to follow? Do I respect God enough to portray my body in a way that is pleasing to Him?
When I look at the great women of this world, I can't think of one who would allow herself to be objectified. Not on Halloween. Not in a bathing suit. Not ever. Modesty isn't old-fashioned. It's a necessity for girls who wish to be truly happy.
Because modesty is so important to me, I love to help others find places to shop for modest clothes. Check out a few of my favorite sites:
http://www.downeastbasics.com/
http://www.mikarose.com/
http://junieblake.com/bottoms.html
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Introvert
I was planning on finishing a sewing project tonight, but after realizing I couldn't tell one side of the fabric from the other, I decided I better call it quits, for a seamstress without her wits about her may accidentally turn a dress into a pillowcase. Better to mess up a blog (and subsequently lose any respect I may have had) than destroy expensive fabric. That's my motto.
I've been thinking a lot about personality lately, particularly when it comes to the personalities of my kiddos. Sometimes it's easier than others to get their personalities to mesh, but when all a teacher has is one classroom to keep them in, creative measures have to be taken to make sure everyone gets along. I'm lamenting some students in particular today-- why can't we all just get along? On the bright side, they didn't break out into any Apache knife fights today, so I guess I can consider today a successful one.
I realize that most of my classroom squabbles stem from misunderstanding and personality diversity. All of my students are, basically, looking at the same thing, but each is seeing something completely different. When it comes to most group tasks, my heart especially goes out to my little introverts. Poor things.... We'll talk about their predicaments later.
In college I found that one of my favorite areas to study was Personality Psychology. I clocked a lot of hours researching personality types based on age, gender, culture, birth order (oldest, middle, youngest), etc. Interesting stuff, it is. My favorite personality test is the Myers-Briggs test (MBTI). In a nutshell, a person is rated on four aspect of how they perceive the world and react to it. If you've got a few minutes to kill, you can take the test here: http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/jtypes2.asp
I'm an INFJ personality, which is, according to research, the personality possessed by only 1% of the population.... and Adam Sandler. Here's a little about what my personality type says about me (and I actually agree): http://www.personalitypage.com/INFJ.html
I highly encourage anyone to take the MBTI and Google their personality type. It's fun, unless you're the type who would doesn't think it's fun. If you're that type, it wouldn't be fun for you.
ANYWAY, let's focus back on the INFJ thing. The "I" stands for "introvert," and I am the poster-girl for introversion. I can SO relate to those students who dread the words "group work." I dread those words too.
The more I'm forced to live in the outside world, the more I realize how ill-equipped some are at dealing with a true introvert, SO (drum roll, please) here's a list to help you, just in case you're one of those people who doesn't know how to handle being around an introvert:
I understand that, to a natural extrovert, that I might seem grumpy, irresponsible, cowardly, and shy. That isn't the case, though. I'm not grumpy, I just don't attach easily to others. I only reveal myself to my deepest and truest family and friends, and only after having trusted them for a long time. Speaking only out of formality is a burden. Even a hearty, "Good morning!" to co-workers as I walk into school each day takes a lot out of me. Morning time is my best thinking time, and I hate to have my thinking interrupted by socially acceptable chatter.
I'm not irresponsible either, only one who needs time and space to work through problems internally before taking action: Just because I don't answer questions or respond to comments immediately doesn't mean I'm ignoring them. It means I'm truly taking them to heart and pondering appropriate actions to take. When I don't have time to ponder over my responses, even in conversation, I'll feel flustered. There have been many-a-time when I've said something I don't mean, or I've said things in an unintended manner, only because I wasn't given sufficient time to consider my response.
I'm not cowardly or shy, in spite of what others might think. Personally, I can speak, sing, and/or perform in front of dozens, 100s, even 1000s of people without batting an eye. I find that kind of communication more as expression than conversation. I view my teaching in the same way. It's deep and meaningful. However, ask me to communicate directly with one or two people who I hardly know, and I won't have much to say. I like to listen, and I only like to talk when I have something important to say.
I know that, generally, we live in a extrovert's world, and I do my best to fit in. However, I know that if an extrovert could glimpse into the world that I see inside myself, they might begin to understand the complexity of an introvert's world. So, please, be kind to your introvert friends.
I've been thinking a lot about personality lately, particularly when it comes to the personalities of my kiddos. Sometimes it's easier than others to get their personalities to mesh, but when all a teacher has is one classroom to keep them in, creative measures have to be taken to make sure everyone gets along. I'm lamenting some students in particular today-- why can't we all just get along? On the bright side, they didn't break out into any Apache knife fights today, so I guess I can consider today a successful one.
I realize that most of my classroom squabbles stem from misunderstanding and personality diversity. All of my students are, basically, looking at the same thing, but each is seeing something completely different. When it comes to most group tasks, my heart especially goes out to my little introverts. Poor things.... We'll talk about their predicaments later.
In college I found that one of my favorite areas to study was Personality Psychology. I clocked a lot of hours researching personality types based on age, gender, culture, birth order (oldest, middle, youngest), etc. Interesting stuff, it is. My favorite personality test is the Myers-Briggs test (MBTI). In a nutshell, a person is rated on four aspect of how they perceive the world and react to it. If you've got a few minutes to kill, you can take the test here: http://www.humanmetrics.com/cgi-win/jtypes2.asp
I'm an INFJ personality, which is, according to research, the personality possessed by only 1% of the population.... and Adam Sandler. Here's a little about what my personality type says about me (and I actually agree): http://www.personalitypage.com/INFJ.html
I highly encourage anyone to take the MBTI and Google their personality type. It's fun, unless you're the type who would doesn't think it's fun. If you're that type, it wouldn't be fun for you.
ANYWAY, let's focus back on the INFJ thing. The "I" stands for "introvert," and I am the poster-girl for introversion. I can SO relate to those students who dread the words "group work." I dread those words too.
The more I'm forced to live in the outside world, the more I realize how ill-equipped some are at dealing with a true introvert, SO (drum roll, please) here's a list to help you, just in case you're one of those people who doesn't know how to handle being around an introvert:
Things Introverts Like
- spending time alone
- spending time with others but not having to talk much-- just sitting in each others' company is fine
- reading
- writing (obviously)
- creating things
- expressing themselves through music
- expressing themselves through art
- nature
- having meaningful conversations with family and close friends
- working by themselves
Things Introverts Hate
- asking for help
- small talk
- having to talk when they're deep in thought
- group projects
- surprise parties... any parties, really
- having to share information about themselves with strangers
- developing friendships quickly
- spending extensive lengths of time with others
- running into acquaintances at the store (see number 2 above)
- when others tell them they need to be more extroverted
I understand that, to a natural extrovert, that I might seem grumpy, irresponsible, cowardly, and shy. That isn't the case, though. I'm not grumpy, I just don't attach easily to others. I only reveal myself to my deepest and truest family and friends, and only after having trusted them for a long time. Speaking only out of formality is a burden. Even a hearty, "Good morning!" to co-workers as I walk into school each day takes a lot out of me. Morning time is my best thinking time, and I hate to have my thinking interrupted by socially acceptable chatter.
I'm not irresponsible either, only one who needs time and space to work through problems internally before taking action: Just because I don't answer questions or respond to comments immediately doesn't mean I'm ignoring them. It means I'm truly taking them to heart and pondering appropriate actions to take. When I don't have time to ponder over my responses, even in conversation, I'll feel flustered. There have been many-a-time when I've said something I don't mean, or I've said things in an unintended manner, only because I wasn't given sufficient time to consider my response.
I'm not cowardly or shy, in spite of what others might think. Personally, I can speak, sing, and/or perform in front of dozens, 100s, even 1000s of people without batting an eye. I find that kind of communication more as expression than conversation. I view my teaching in the same way. It's deep and meaningful. However, ask me to communicate directly with one or two people who I hardly know, and I won't have much to say. I like to listen, and I only like to talk when I have something important to say.
I know that, generally, we live in a extrovert's world, and I do my best to fit in. However, I know that if an extrovert could glimpse into the world that I see inside myself, they might begin to understand the complexity of an introvert's world. So, please, be kind to your introvert friends.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
Evaluation
It's been a while. I blame Netflix. Specifically, I blame the Korean drama "Boys Over Flowers." Who knew that Koreans have such frustratingly great TV? I only recommend watching it if you want your house to go uncleaned for a solid... however long it takes you to get through 25 hour-long episodes.
Anyway, it's been a couple of interesting weeks at work. Due to a new law in Colorado, all teachers must be evaluated on an extensive rubric. (If you're really curious to see what I'm up against, feel free to check out the link: http://www.cde.state.co.us/sites/default/files/TeacherRubric.pdf ) Being the perfectionist I am, this new evaluation system doesn't bode well for me, seeing as how no ordinary person, even the best teachers, are not capable of achieving all that this rubric requires of them.
I've spent hours pouring over this evaluation form, trying to create some kind of feasible game-plan on beating it. Realistically, those should have been hours spent thinking about my students rather than myself. It's an unfortunate reality many of us teachers face as politicians and third-party-businesses demand more presence in our classrooms.
In a way, it's been good for me. I'd forgotten what it feels like to be so dehumanized by rubrics and evaluations. Yet this is something my students go through everyday. They're evaluated constantly. They're a series of numbers and checks. Names don't matter and individual talents don't count (unless it's on the evaluation).
After experiencing some disappointing test results last week, I came home this weekend and reflected on that teacher evaluation. I realized that, chances are, I'll never be an "advanced" teacher. If I'm lucky, I'll maybe squeeze out a "proficient" score this year. But that's OK, because I've decided that Colorado politicians can take this evaluation and shove it where the sun don't shine. I'll continually strive to be a better teacher, but I won't do it for them and their fancy check-lists. I'll do it because it's what my students deserve.
While we're on the topic of unrealistic expectations, here's another example of an evaluation that I hate. Here are the unspoken cultural expectations of a Mormon girl:
I think I've made it pretty clear that I love the doctrines of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I believe these doctrines with every piece of myself. Mormon culture, though, can really irritate me at times. I'm not "unsatisfactory." I'm whatever category is beneath "unsatisfactory," because I haven't managed to do the important thing-- the ONE thing-- that every Mormon girl is "supposed" to have done by this point in her life. I'm not married. I don't have 3.75 kids. Well, sorry... Stupid evaluation.
Thankfully, I rid myself of that worthless rubric years ago. I realized that there's no such thing as a one-size-fits-all rubric that evaluates everyone fairly. The rubrics which have been crafted by others are ill-suited for me, just as I'm sure my self-evaluations would be ill-suited for them. PS-- Each life is unique, has it's own set of challenges, and follows its own timeline.
The only opinion I really care about is God's. In the eternal scheme of things, I doubt whether my Heavenly Father will care if I was "advanced" or "exemplary" according to the Colorado Department of Education or according to an imperfect culture. He'll care if I was kind, if I was patient, if I was obedient to His commandments. When all is said and done, for better or worse, it won't matter what the other evaluations say. In the end, it's my Heavenly Father's evaluation that really matters.
Anyway, it's been a couple of interesting weeks at work. Due to a new law in Colorado, all teachers must be evaluated on an extensive rubric. (If you're really curious to see what I'm up against, feel free to check out the link: http://www.cde.state.co.us/sites/default/files/TeacherRubric.pdf ) Being the perfectionist I am, this new evaluation system doesn't bode well for me, seeing as how no ordinary person, even the best teachers, are not capable of achieving all that this rubric requires of them.
I've spent hours pouring over this evaluation form, trying to create some kind of feasible game-plan on beating it. Realistically, those should have been hours spent thinking about my students rather than myself. It's an unfortunate reality many of us teachers face as politicians and third-party-businesses demand more presence in our classrooms.
In a way, it's been good for me. I'd forgotten what it feels like to be so dehumanized by rubrics and evaluations. Yet this is something my students go through everyday. They're evaluated constantly. They're a series of numbers and checks. Names don't matter and individual talents don't count (unless it's on the evaluation).
After experiencing some disappointing test results last week, I came home this weekend and reflected on that teacher evaluation. I realized that, chances are, I'll never be an "advanced" teacher. If I'm lucky, I'll maybe squeeze out a "proficient" score this year. But that's OK, because I've decided that Colorado politicians can take this evaluation and shove it where the sun don't shine. I'll continually strive to be a better teacher, but I won't do it for them and their fancy check-lists. I'll do it because it's what my students deserve.
While we're on the topic of unrealistic expectations, here's another example of an evaluation that I hate. Here are the unspoken cultural expectations of a Mormon girl:
|
UNSATISFACTORY
|
PARTIALLY PROFICIENT
|
PROFICIENT
|
ADVANCED
|
EXEMPLARY
|
|
Get married look cute all the time (if in Utah) poof hair to unnatural heights, get a fake tan |
Perpetually behave like a Disney princess Always agree with what the husband says/does Never have an original thought |
Have children, preferably by the dozen Master the art of the funeral potato Jell-o salad |
Bake cookies Bake lemon bars Bake cinnamon rolls Bake bread Bake all the things |
Kids are always happy and well behaved Husband is always happy and well behaved You're perfect |
I think I've made it pretty clear that I love the doctrines of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I believe these doctrines with every piece of myself. Mormon culture, though, can really irritate me at times. I'm not "unsatisfactory." I'm whatever category is beneath "unsatisfactory," because I haven't managed to do the important thing-- the ONE thing-- that every Mormon girl is "supposed" to have done by this point in her life. I'm not married. I don't have 3.75 kids. Well, sorry... Stupid evaluation.
Thankfully, I rid myself of that worthless rubric years ago. I realized that there's no such thing as a one-size-fits-all rubric that evaluates everyone fairly. The rubrics which have been crafted by others are ill-suited for me, just as I'm sure my self-evaluations would be ill-suited for them. PS-- Each life is unique, has it's own set of challenges, and follows its own timeline.
The only opinion I really care about is God's. In the eternal scheme of things, I doubt whether my Heavenly Father will care if I was "advanced" or "exemplary" according to the Colorado Department of Education or according to an imperfect culture. He'll care if I was kind, if I was patient, if I was obedient to His commandments. When all is said and done, for better or worse, it won't matter what the other evaluations say. In the end, it's my Heavenly Father's evaluation that really matters.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Redemption
So--I'm speaking in Church tomorrow, and, naturally, I had to wait until about an hour ago to actually prepare for it. The topic I was given was "redemption."
Normally I don't like to post "preachy" things, but--seeing as how I'm actually going to preaching from a pulpit--I figured, why not? My Mormon friends should understand everything pretty clearly, but--if anyone else has questions or needs more explanation about something--please, ask.
So... Here it is. Redemption:
Brothers and Sisters, all of us are in need of repentance. Daily repentance. In the rest of this chapter, Jesus Christ gives two more parables that teach of the love of God and of His willingness to not only accept, but to rejoice in any of His imperfect children who turn to Him. When I was younger, I used to think of myself as one of the ninety-and-nine “good” sheep—the ones who never did anything wrong. As I grow older, I realize that I'm that lost little sheep. I'm the one who the Savior is seeking to save, because He thinks I'm worth saving. Even when I feel weighed down with guilt, or when I feel stained from my sins, the Lord is willing to take that away. Through Him, I am able to rid myself of that guilt and free myself of those stains. I can be clean again. In Isaiah 1:18, Christ promises us that, “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”
I know that the Lord doesn't lie. If He says that I can be forgiven and that I can be clean, then it's true. In fact, He says that all of us—not just the good ones, the bad ones too—can and will be saved if we follow Him.
The Lord is very clear in His instructions as to what we must do in order to be saved. Jesus Christ, through His Atonement, performed His duties regarding our redemption. With the time I have left, I'd like to talk about we must do in return in order to be redeemed.
The first is baptism. As a missionary, I taught so many people who were afraid to be baptized. They didn't feel ready. Some were scared that they would offend God if they were to get baptized and then sin afterward. Brothers and Sisters, especially those of you who are considering baptism, I testify to you that it is God's will that all of His children be baptized. He knows that we are not perfect, and that's the point. Baptism is not the end goal, it is the first step of many in seeking our way back to Heavenly Father. Do not hesitate to partake in this wonderful gift, because only those who are baptized may be saved in the Kingdom of God. And any baptism won't do-- it must be a baptism performed by one who holds the proper authority of God, the Priesthood. That Priesthood is found only in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
After baptism, one must follow all the commandments of God. This includes following the Word of Wisdom and obeying the Law of Chastity. This includes paying tithing, taking the Sacrament, and serving others. Naturally, all of us fall short here. Many people, even after baptism, give up at this step. It may not always be easy, but it will always be worth it in the end.
We must make covenants in the temple. Another step that we sometimes forget is the importance of making covenants in the temple. Because temples are so sacred, I won't go into detail, but I know how necessary temple covenants are to our salvation. Just like baptism, a person cannot be saved in the Kingdom of God without first making certain covenants in the temple. Also, it is only through temples that we can live with our families forever. Without temple covenants, we will be separated from our family relationships at death. If we want to be saved as families, temple covenants are crucial.
Finally, as we seek our personal redemption, we must also help others seek for theirs. One of my favorite sayings is, “Help thy brother's boat across, and, lo, thine own has reached the shore.” As we help others in their journey back to Heavenly Father, we help ourselves back as well. We can help others as we assist the missionaries, as we share the Gospel with our friends, and as we teach the children in our families what they must do to be saved. I can't speak from experience, but as I look at my nieces and nephews—knowing the love of an aunt—I can't imagine anything much more important than seeing that these little souls are saved. Another aspect of helping others return to God relates back to the temple. Every soul that ever was, that is, or ever will be will eventually have the chance to accept the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Through the Priesthood, and because Heavenly Father is so loving, we are able to do baptisms and temple work for those who were unable to do it for themselves in life. Even in death, our Heavenly Father gives us opportunities to accept His blessings, but—for those who have passed on—they are unable to enjoy these blessings without our help. We need to do temple work for them, and we start that process by doing our family history.
Is it worth it to do all these things? Satan would have us believe no. He tries to distract us with pride, possessions, and popularity. He tries to tempt us with things that aren't important, with things that don't last. Something interesting is that God will allow us to choose that path, if it is what we really want.
The Book of Mormon says in 2 Nephi 10:23, “Therefore, cheer up your hearts, and remember that ye are free to act for yourselves—to choose the way of everlasting death or the way of eternal life.”
If we choose to keep the commandments, our Heavenly Father promises us all that He has—not just in part, ALL of His kingdom. Jesus Christ has kept, and will always keep, His promises to us. If we keep our promises to Him, we will surely be redeemed.
In 3 Nephi 9:14 the Lord made a promise to His people. This promise still stands today. He says, “Yea, verily I say unto you, if ye will come unto me ye shall have eternal life. Behold, mine arm of mercy is extended towards you, and whosoever will come, him will I receive; and blessed are those who come unto me.”
And I say these things in the sacred name of our Lord and Redeemer, even Jesus Christ. Amen.
Normally I don't like to post "preachy" things, but--seeing as how I'm actually going to preaching from a pulpit--I figured, why not? My Mormon friends should understand everything pretty clearly, but--if anyone else has questions or needs more explanation about something--please, ask.
So... Here it is. Redemption:
Good morning, Brothers and Sisters:
In Moses 1:39, the Lord says, “For
behold, this is my work
and my glory—to
bring to pass the immortality
and eternal
life
of man.”
When
working as a missionary, my companions and I decided that this is
Heavenly Father's mission statement, His overall goal that explains
why He does the things that He does. It explains why He asks us to
behave in certain ways and to become a certain kind of person. It is
to bring about our salvation. Isn't it amazing that God's purpose is
our ultimate and eternal happiness?
Our
Heavenly Father knew, though, that it wouldn't be an easy
undertaking. The scriptures say—both in the Bible and the Book of
Mormon—that “no unclean thing can dwell in the Kingdom of God.”
That “God cannot look upon sin with the least degree of
allowance.” All sin—any sin—regardless of its severity and
intention makes a person unfit to live with God.
That's why redemption is so
important. Dictionaries define redemption as: deliverance; rescue;
or as a payment for a debt. In our cases, as imperfect people, we
need to be redeemed. Because we are separated from God, we need to
be rescued. The debts of our sins must be paid before we can enter
into the Kingdom of God. This is a debt that cannot
be
paid through our own efforts. Instead, we have to turn to Jesus
Christ and the commandments He gives us. The Bible teaches us, “for
God
so loved
the world,
that he gave
his only
begotten Son,
that whosoever believeth
in him should not perish, but have everlasting
life.
For God sent
not his Son into the world to condemn
the world; but that the world through him might be saved.”
Jesus
Christ, who is called our Redeemer for a reason, speaks often of
redemption and grace. In fact, every one of His teachings revolves
around His ultimate purpose of helping us achieve perfection.
One parable
in particular comes to mind. It's found in the New Testament, in
Luke Chapter 15. It reads, “Then drew near unto him all the
publicans
and sinners for to hear him. And the Pharisees and
scribes murmured, saying, This man receiveth sinners, and eateth with
them. And he spake this parable unto them, saying, What man of you,
having an hundred sheep, if he lose one of them, doth not leave the
ninety and nine in
the wilderness, and go after that which is lost,
until he find it? And when he hath found it, he layeth it on his
shoulders, rejoicing. And when he cometh home, he calleth together
his friends and neighbours, saying unto them, Rejoice with me; for I
have found my sheep which was lost.
I say unto you, that likewise joy
shall be in heaven over one sinner
that repenteth,
more than over ninety and nine just persons, which need no
repentance.”Brothers and Sisters, all of us are in need of repentance. Daily repentance. In the rest of this chapter, Jesus Christ gives two more parables that teach of the love of God and of His willingness to not only accept, but to rejoice in any of His imperfect children who turn to Him. When I was younger, I used to think of myself as one of the ninety-and-nine “good” sheep—the ones who never did anything wrong. As I grow older, I realize that I'm that lost little sheep. I'm the one who the Savior is seeking to save, because He thinks I'm worth saving. Even when I feel weighed down with guilt, or when I feel stained from my sins, the Lord is willing to take that away. Through Him, I am able to rid myself of that guilt and free myself of those stains. I can be clean again. In Isaiah 1:18, Christ promises us that, “Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.”
I know that the Lord doesn't lie. If He says that I can be forgiven and that I can be clean, then it's true. In fact, He says that all of us—not just the good ones, the bad ones too—can and will be saved if we follow Him.
The Lord is very clear in His instructions as to what we must do in order to be saved. Jesus Christ, through His Atonement, performed His duties regarding our redemption. With the time I have left, I'd like to talk about we must do in return in order to be redeemed.
The first is baptism. As a missionary, I taught so many people who were afraid to be baptized. They didn't feel ready. Some were scared that they would offend God if they were to get baptized and then sin afterward. Brothers and Sisters, especially those of you who are considering baptism, I testify to you that it is God's will that all of His children be baptized. He knows that we are not perfect, and that's the point. Baptism is not the end goal, it is the first step of many in seeking our way back to Heavenly Father. Do not hesitate to partake in this wonderful gift, because only those who are baptized may be saved in the Kingdom of God. And any baptism won't do-- it must be a baptism performed by one who holds the proper authority of God, the Priesthood. That Priesthood is found only in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
After baptism, one must follow all the commandments of God. This includes following the Word of Wisdom and obeying the Law of Chastity. This includes paying tithing, taking the Sacrament, and serving others. Naturally, all of us fall short here. Many people, even after baptism, give up at this step. It may not always be easy, but it will always be worth it in the end.
We must make covenants in the temple. Another step that we sometimes forget is the importance of making covenants in the temple. Because temples are so sacred, I won't go into detail, but I know how necessary temple covenants are to our salvation. Just like baptism, a person cannot be saved in the Kingdom of God without first making certain covenants in the temple. Also, it is only through temples that we can live with our families forever. Without temple covenants, we will be separated from our family relationships at death. If we want to be saved as families, temple covenants are crucial.
Finally, as we seek our personal redemption, we must also help others seek for theirs. One of my favorite sayings is, “Help thy brother's boat across, and, lo, thine own has reached the shore.” As we help others in their journey back to Heavenly Father, we help ourselves back as well. We can help others as we assist the missionaries, as we share the Gospel with our friends, and as we teach the children in our families what they must do to be saved. I can't speak from experience, but as I look at my nieces and nephews—knowing the love of an aunt—I can't imagine anything much more important than seeing that these little souls are saved. Another aspect of helping others return to God relates back to the temple. Every soul that ever was, that is, or ever will be will eventually have the chance to accept the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Through the Priesthood, and because Heavenly Father is so loving, we are able to do baptisms and temple work for those who were unable to do it for themselves in life. Even in death, our Heavenly Father gives us opportunities to accept His blessings, but—for those who have passed on—they are unable to enjoy these blessings without our help. We need to do temple work for them, and we start that process by doing our family history.
Is it worth it to do all these things? Satan would have us believe no. He tries to distract us with pride, possessions, and popularity. He tries to tempt us with things that aren't important, with things that don't last. Something interesting is that God will allow us to choose that path, if it is what we really want.
The Book of Mormon says in 2 Nephi 10:23, “Therefore, cheer up your hearts, and remember that ye are free to act for yourselves—to choose the way of everlasting death or the way of eternal life.”
If we choose to keep the commandments, our Heavenly Father promises us all that He has—not just in part, ALL of His kingdom. Jesus Christ has kept, and will always keep, His promises to us. If we keep our promises to Him, we will surely be redeemed.
In 3 Nephi 9:14 the Lord made a promise to His people. This promise still stands today. He says, “Yea, verily I say unto you, if ye will come unto me ye shall have eternal life. Behold, mine arm of mercy is extended towards you, and whosoever will come, him will I receive; and blessed are those who come unto me.”
And I say these things in the sacred name of our Lord and Redeemer, even Jesus Christ. Amen.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Value
So, not another Gingersnap post. Sorry. Maybe I'll vomit out another chapter tonight. We'll see. I have something else on my mind that I feel like needs saying first.
A few recent events have prompted me to reflect on value--how much something might mean to us. How many of us have ever found ourselves checking price tags to see if we'd be willing to pay for something? I'm certainly positive that I'm not the only one who has ever picked up a/n [insert super cool must-have item here] and said, "This is amazing! But not [insert its dollar value] amazing." Example: These shoes are adorable! But not $90 adorable. That's my judgment call. Someone said that the shoes were worth $90, and I have the option to disagree with that. Maybe, to me, their value really sits at $20 or so.
We place value on things all the time. Everyday, in fact. We complain about the price of gas, the cost to live in our homes, and the ridiculous amount of funds it takes to receive a college education. Yet most of us pay, because it's that important to us. If it weren't, we would take our money elsewhere.
But what about things that aren't items or things or places? Take, for example, my sweet baby Rogue. She's not really a baby--she's a husky, and a spoiled one at that. When people come over to my house for the first time, I warn them that there's dog fur everywhere, and that's just the way it is. Because I value Rogue higher than I value my furniture. She's my very best little buddy, and, quite honestly, is the only reason I don't stay at work until 8 or 9 every night. Even though she's constantly spitting out her dog-food into random piles all over the house, I would still value her more than anything else that I own. Someone else might see her as an irritating dog, and that's all right too. She is irritating, but it doesn't matter so much to me, because I love her. She is my everything.
Can we put a value on something like that? How much is my husky really worth? $400? $500? Maybe $1,000?... To me, none of those values fit. I don't think I could put a price on her.
What about people? What is the value of a person? Remember those "few events" I mentioned at the beginning of this post? Well, let's talk about them now.
Three things this week that have retaught me the true value of a person:
A twenty dollar bill is worth $20 whether it's new and crisp and clean, or whether it's been through the laundry a few times and then dragged through a muddy parking lot. I know, especially after today's reminder, that there is a God who loves His children and who is always aware of them. As broken, torn, and muddy as we may feel at times, He can't forget a single one of us, because we (collectively and individually) are His everything.
A few recent events have prompted me to reflect on value--how much something might mean to us. How many of us have ever found ourselves checking price tags to see if we'd be willing to pay for something? I'm certainly positive that I'm not the only one who has ever picked up a/n [insert super cool must-have item here] and said, "This is amazing! But not [insert its dollar value] amazing." Example: These shoes are adorable! But not $90 adorable. That's my judgment call. Someone said that the shoes were worth $90, and I have the option to disagree with that. Maybe, to me, their value really sits at $20 or so.
We place value on things all the time. Everyday, in fact. We complain about the price of gas, the cost to live in our homes, and the ridiculous amount of funds it takes to receive a college education. Yet most of us pay, because it's that important to us. If it weren't, we would take our money elsewhere.
But what about things that aren't items or things or places? Take, for example, my sweet baby Rogue. She's not really a baby--she's a husky, and a spoiled one at that. When people come over to my house for the first time, I warn them that there's dog fur everywhere, and that's just the way it is. Because I value Rogue higher than I value my furniture. She's my very best little buddy, and, quite honestly, is the only reason I don't stay at work until 8 or 9 every night. Even though she's constantly spitting out her dog-food into random piles all over the house, I would still value her more than anything else that I own. Someone else might see her as an irritating dog, and that's all right too. She is irritating, but it doesn't matter so much to me, because I love her. She is my everything.
Can we put a value on something like that? How much is my husky really worth? $400? $500? Maybe $1,000?... To me, none of those values fit. I don't think I could put a price on her.
What about people? What is the value of a person? Remember those "few events" I mentioned at the beginning of this post? Well, let's talk about them now.
Three things this week that have retaught me the true value of a person:
- Miss America Pageant
- I didn't watch it this year... or any year since I was 5. I saw a commercial for it though, and it got me to thinking about the girls who compete in these pageants. What is their value? When the winner is crowned, does that mean she's worth more than all of her competitors? Is she worth more than the pudgy little girl who, while watching the pageant on TV, suddenly values herself less because valuable comes in only one size and one shape?
- Easy for me to say, right? Other than having to get over the fact that I look like a Disney Princess incarnate, I've never had to struggle through self-image problems. Seriously, I look like some kind of cartoon, but if I had to judge myself by Miss America standards, I'd say, "Bring it on." (I'd have to throw my self respect out the window for that whole bikini thing, though.) That's why I'm not thinking about myself in this case. I think about my students, 9 and 10 year old boys and girls, who start to think that outward appearance equates with the value of a person. I've had some of my students, girls particularly, tell me that they want to be like me when they grow up. It's never because they think I'm smart, kind, responsible, or hard-working. It's because they want to be skinny. Why in the world are we teaching kids that a skinny person is more important than a smart, kind, responsible, and hard-working person?
- Let's refocus on those Miss America contestants. Are they evil for perpetuating this "must be skinny to be worth something" attitude? Maybe they're evil: I really couldn't say, because I don't know them personally. Maybe they're not. That's not for me to judge. What I can say, with all certainty, is that these girls have the exact same value as anyone else. Their value is incomprehensible. They are worth everything. Just like that pudgy girl is worth everything. Just like any person is worth everything.
- Parent Teacher Conferences
- I'm going to let you parents in on a little secret. Parent-Teacher Conferences are terrifying! Honestly. I'm still new at this job, but even some of my seasoned veteran teacher friends still get jittery around conference time. We're scared of parents! I realized something interesting this last Thursday, though. I realized that parents are scared of me! I saw it in a father's eyes as he brought his son in for their conference. I could tell that this father was petrified that I would tell him all of the dreadful things a parent hopes not to hear coming from their child's teacher. I've found that most parents value their children about the same as the universe, times the universe, and still much more. It's such a humbling thing as a teacher to recognize the importance of the collective class and also of the importance of the single individual. As tiring as conference time can be, in a way it's rejuvenating in the fact that I'm reminded of the value of my students. They are worth everything to their parents, so they had better be worth everything to me. And the students who don't have parents who value them? It's all the more reason for me to do so.
- What about the students who don't score well on tests? What about the child who just can't quite read as quickly, or the student who can't remember what "7 * 8" is? Are they less valuable? Is the high school graduate or the college graduate more valuable than one who isn't as educated? Does intelligence reflect the value of a person? I submit that it does not. That same father who came in who was afraid of me, both of us were nearly in tears at the end of the conference, because I also saw how brilliant his son is (not could be, is) even though his test scores may not reflect that. We see the value in this boy. It's everything. Just like my kids who consistently score 100% are worth everything. Just like my kids who scribble on their papers (and think they can get away with calling it a completed assignment) are worth everything.
- The Italian Family
- I'm not going to go into too much detail here, because I don't think service is something that should be bragged about. I'll just mention that today as I drove into a grocery store parking lot, I found a man begging for money to feed his family. I see it all the time, and regrettably, I usually pass by. I pass by because I don't want to be taken advantage of, and because I'm not wealthy enough to help everyone I see. But, I felt very strongly, almost like driving into a brick wall, that I needed to turn myself around and go help that man. When I parked my car next to where he was standing, I saw his family sitting behind him. A wife, a 9 year old daughter, and a 2 week old baby. She was beautiful. Everything they owned was in their car, and it wasn't much.
- As I inquired as to the family's needs, I found out that they were an immigrant Italian family trying to make their way out to California. They communicated in what little English they knew, and I communicated using what little Italian I know (i.e. Spanish). In the short time I spent with them this afternoon, I was reminded of how much I really have; a roof over my head and food in my belly. I have a reliable and enjoyable job and an expansive support system if that job were to fall through. But that doesn't mean that my life is any more significant than theirs.
- When I offered to help the family in what ways I could, the mother kept saying, "Bless you, bless you. Jesus love you." I wish I could have communicated back to her the immense amount of love I knew that our Savior has for her and her family. I know, without a doubt, that were it not for a loving God who sees this family being worth everything, I would not have stopped to help them. Were it not for a loving Heavenly Father who slapped me (metaphorically) in the face and told me to turn my car around, I would have assigned them about the same value as any other sign I pass on my way to the grocery store.
A twenty dollar bill is worth $20 whether it's new and crisp and clean, or whether it's been through the laundry a few times and then dragged through a muddy parking lot. I know, especially after today's reminder, that there is a God who loves His children and who is always aware of them. As broken, torn, and muddy as we may feel at times, He can't forget a single one of us, because we (collectively and individually) are His everything.
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Enough
For those of my friends who live in the parts of Wyoming, Colorado, and Utah that have flooded, I hope that you're all safe and sound (and dry). I've tried to get in touch with most of you already. If not, please, call me if there's anything I can do to help. I have running water and food in the fridge. If things get worse, I have water stored and a full tank of gas. I just hope I have enough if it comes down to actually needing it.
Enough is an important thing. When we have enough food, we don't suffer from hunger. When we have enough water, we are able to stay hydrated, clean, and healthy. Enough money means less stress when it comes time to pay the bills.
Enough can be a curse too, really. I've certainly been in the position to not think as highly of myself as I should. I've been caught saying things like: If I were smart enough, I'd pursue that higher degree. If I were athletic enough, I'd try out for that team. If I were talented enough, I'd audition for that role. If I were dedicated enough, I'd be really good at (insert hobby here). If I were skinny enough, I'd actually look good in this outfit. If I were pretty enough, I'd be able to get a date.... You see-- enough can be an unhealthy thing if it becomes an obsession.
Exhibit A: If I had been perceptive enough, I could have saved myself a lot of grief this week. I've also seen enough rain, comforted enough crying kids, vacuumed enough water out of my basement, been inundated with enough tasks at work, worried about enough family members stuck in flooding areas, and buried enough beloved pets. I've seen enough suffering, and--quite frankly-- I'm sick of it. Enough is enough.
Last night I was asked if I'd take in a family who has lost their home in the recent flooding. I don't know anything about this family. I don't know their names, how many of them there are, where they lived, or how long they'll ultimately be relying on others for housing. I'm not sure when they'll be arriving, or if they still plan on arriving at all. Last night and this morning, as I've prepared my home to, perhaps, welcome this family, I realized what a task this is. My inner-strength is already so depleted that I just don't feel like I have enough in me to take care of myself, let alone other people. I just don't feel strong enough. Or brave enough. Or capable enough.
These circumstances remind me of a scripture in the Book of Mormon, Ether 12:27. In this particular verse, a prophet is mourning the fact that he doesn't feel qualified ("good" enough) to fulfill the work he's been asked to do. The Lord responds by saying, "... if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto menweakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."
I'm also reminded of a verse of one of my favorite hymns. (I'll put the entire hymn at the end of the post. For now, this particular verse seems especially appropriate for those of us surrounded by flood waters.):
When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
As I look ahead to what will be expected of me in the coming weeks-- as I prepare to take care of myself and my own sorrows, as I prepare to (maybe) open my home to a family who has experienced sorrow of their own, and as I think of all my students and their families who are without working houses and will need my emotional support-- I realize that I am not strong enough. Or brave enough. Or capable enough. I'm just not. But, through my faith, the Lord will, somehow, help me to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He'll help me push along so that I can be strong, and brave, and capable.
May He do the same for all of you who, at this time and always, need Him too.
How Firm a Foundation
How firm a foundation, ye Saints of the Lord,
is laid for your faith in his excellent word!
What more can he say than to you he hath said,
Who unto the Savior for refuge have fled?
In ev'ry condition--in sickness, in health,
In poverty's vale or abounding in wealth.
At home or abroad, on the land or the sea--
As thy days may demand, so thy succor shall be.
Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.
When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o'erflow,
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.
When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply.
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.
E'en down to old age, all my people shall prove
My sov'reign, eternal, unchangeable love;
And then, when gray hair shall their temples adorn,
Like lambs shall they still in my bosom be borne.
The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I'll never, no never, no never forsake!
Enough is an important thing. When we have enough food, we don't suffer from hunger. When we have enough water, we are able to stay hydrated, clean, and healthy. Enough money means less stress when it comes time to pay the bills.
Enough can be a curse too, really. I've certainly been in the position to not think as highly of myself as I should. I've been caught saying things like: If I were smart enough, I'd pursue that higher degree. If I were athletic enough, I'd try out for that team. If I were talented enough, I'd audition for that role. If I were dedicated enough, I'd be really good at (insert hobby here). If I were skinny enough, I'd actually look good in this outfit. If I were pretty enough, I'd be able to get a date.... You see-- enough can be an unhealthy thing if it becomes an obsession.
Exhibit A: If I had been perceptive enough, I could have saved myself a lot of grief this week. I've also seen enough rain, comforted enough crying kids, vacuumed enough water out of my basement, been inundated with enough tasks at work, worried about enough family members stuck in flooding areas, and buried enough beloved pets. I've seen enough suffering, and--quite frankly-- I'm sick of it. Enough is enough.
Last night I was asked if I'd take in a family who has lost their home in the recent flooding. I don't know anything about this family. I don't know their names, how many of them there are, where they lived, or how long they'll ultimately be relying on others for housing. I'm not sure when they'll be arriving, or if they still plan on arriving at all. Last night and this morning, as I've prepared my home to, perhaps, welcome this family, I realized what a task this is. My inner-strength is already so depleted that I just don't feel like I have enough in me to take care of myself, let alone other people. I just don't feel strong enough. Or brave enough. Or capable enough.
These circumstances remind me of a scripture in the Book of Mormon, Ether 12:27. In this particular verse, a prophet is mourning the fact that he doesn't feel qualified ("good" enough) to fulfill the work he's been asked to do. The Lord responds by saying, "... if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men
I'm also reminded of a verse of one of my favorite hymns. (I'll put the entire hymn at the end of the post. For now, this particular verse seems especially appropriate for those of us surrounded by flood waters.):
When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not thee
o'erflow,
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.
As I look ahead to what will be expected of me in the coming weeks-- as I prepare to take care of myself and my own sorrows, as I prepare to (maybe) open my home to a family who has experienced sorrow of their own, and as I think of all my students and their families who are without working houses and will need my emotional support-- I realize that I am not strong enough. Or brave enough. Or capable enough. I'm just not. But, through my faith, the Lord will, somehow, help me to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He'll help me push along so that I can be strong, and brave, and capable.
May He do the same for all of you who, at this time and always, need Him too.
How Firm a Foundation
How firm a foundation, ye Saints of the Lord,
is laid for your faith in his excellent word!
What more can he say than to you he hath said,
Who unto the Savior for refuge have fled?
In ev'ry condition--in sickness, in health,
In poverty's vale or abounding in wealth.
At home or abroad, on the land or the sea--
As thy days may demand, so thy succor shall be.
Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed,
For I am thy God and will still give thee aid.
I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand,
Upheld by my righteous, omnipotent hand.
When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of sorrow shall not thee o'erflow,
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.
When through fiery trials thy pathway shall lie,
My grace, all sufficient, shall be thy supply.
The flame shall not hurt thee; I only design
Thy dross to consume and thy gold to refine.
E'en down to old age, all my people shall prove
My sov'reign, eternal, unchangeable love;
And then, when gray hair shall their temples adorn,
Like lambs shall they still in my bosom be borne.
The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose
I will not, I cannot, desert to his foes;
That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake,
I'll never, no never, no never forsake!
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Eternal Families
Remember that forgiveness thing I just posted about? Rather fortuitous, I'd say. Today I came home to a surprise that broke my heart into teeny-tiny pieces. On my living room floor I found a mess of feathers and a cage short one bird. My sweet little Odysseus. He used to sing and dance whenever I'd play the piano for him. He'd actually let me hold him and scratch his head. And there he was. Scattered.
It's been a rough week already, and this seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. (I'm the camel.) I keep thinking of all the things I could have done to prevent this from happening. I can't help but feel it's all my fault. Such a sweet little spirit, gone. Because I'm not smart enough to lock the dogs up while I'm at work.
After coming to grips with the situation, I wrapped my little Odysseus up (what was left of him), kissed the wrapping, and placed him gently in a decorated box. I set the box on the piano and played his favorite songs-- the ones he especially enjoyed. Such a sweet bird.
The hardest part has been listening to his wifey, Penelope. She relied on him a lot. She has this special call that she does whenever she's separated from him.... Poor little gal has been calling for him all evening and all night. Before sitting down to write this, all I could do was crouch by her cage and apologize, over and over, that her sweet-heart left us so unexpectedly. My stomach collapses even now when I think of her sitting in that cage by herself tonight, no one there to cuddle her and keep her warm. I've never lost a spouse, but I see a little of myself in Penelope as she sits there alone.
It takes me back to all those times when I've comforted the widows I've known. In a way, now when I look at my Penelope, I see them. One day, they were enjoying the company of their beloved, and the next-- well... the next, they're entirely and utterly displaced as they try to make sense of their new life.
Most people, I think, have felt that. All people should expect to feel this loss at some point. I think that we should, because feeling loss helps us to recognize that whatever we lost meant something to us. I think this loss is sensed the greatest, at least for me, when a family member is lost.
How thankful I am that death is not the end! To know that, through following the teachings of Jesus Christ, I can be reunited with my family. My family will always be my family. My grandparents, parents, siblings, and all other family members are bound to me, and I am bound to them, if we can stand fast in our resolve to live correctly. What a wonderful thought that, someday, should I ever get married and have kids that those family members will be mine for eternity too. I don't believe that Heavenly Father gives us something so perfect as our families only to take them away forever.
Something that Mormons are often criticized for is our belief that, even in death, a person can choose what to believe and what to follow. Everyone is given the chance to accept the truths that will save them, whether they hear those truths in life or in death. Every family that has ever been, that is, or that ever will be has that same blessed opportunity to seal themselves together, to never suffer separation again.
Death is only a temporary goodbye. Families are meant to be eternal. Right now, I hope that it's the same way for birds.
It's been a rough week already, and this seemed to be the straw that broke the camel's back. (I'm the camel.) I keep thinking of all the things I could have done to prevent this from happening. I can't help but feel it's all my fault. Such a sweet little spirit, gone. Because I'm not smart enough to lock the dogs up while I'm at work.
After coming to grips with the situation, I wrapped my little Odysseus up (what was left of him), kissed the wrapping, and placed him gently in a decorated box. I set the box on the piano and played his favorite songs-- the ones he especially enjoyed. Such a sweet bird.
The hardest part has been listening to his wifey, Penelope. She relied on him a lot. She has this special call that she does whenever she's separated from him.... Poor little gal has been calling for him all evening and all night. Before sitting down to write this, all I could do was crouch by her cage and apologize, over and over, that her sweet-heart left us so unexpectedly. My stomach collapses even now when I think of her sitting in that cage by herself tonight, no one there to cuddle her and keep her warm. I've never lost a spouse, but I see a little of myself in Penelope as she sits there alone.
It takes me back to all those times when I've comforted the widows I've known. In a way, now when I look at my Penelope, I see them. One day, they were enjoying the company of their beloved, and the next-- well... the next, they're entirely and utterly displaced as they try to make sense of their new life.
Most people, I think, have felt that. All people should expect to feel this loss at some point. I think that we should, because feeling loss helps us to recognize that whatever we lost meant something to us. I think this loss is sensed the greatest, at least for me, when a family member is lost.
How thankful I am that death is not the end! To know that, through following the teachings of Jesus Christ, I can be reunited with my family. My family will always be my family. My grandparents, parents, siblings, and all other family members are bound to me, and I am bound to them, if we can stand fast in our resolve to live correctly. What a wonderful thought that, someday, should I ever get married and have kids that those family members will be mine for eternity too. I don't believe that Heavenly Father gives us something so perfect as our families only to take them away forever.
Something that Mormons are often criticized for is our belief that, even in death, a person can choose what to believe and what to follow. Everyone is given the chance to accept the truths that will save them, whether they hear those truths in life or in death. Every family that has ever been, that is, or that ever will be has that same blessed opportunity to seal themselves together, to never suffer separation again.
Death is only a temporary goodbye. Families are meant to be eternal. Right now, I hope that it's the same way for birds.
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