Posted by beth on December 2, 2011
A lot of things have come together today to form these thoughts, and while they’re not yet fully coherent, I wanted to share with you what I’ve got so far.
We are not polliwogs. Wait, you already knew that? That’s because you’re brilliant. But allow me to explain. We come into the world as fully formed human beings. We’re not born in some other form to become human beings later on. We grow and change, but that’s just the development of what we already are.
I won’t tell you what to believe, but I’ll tell you what I believe to be true, and that’s that we were created uniquely by God, which is pretty cool because that means that our “wiring” has already been created when we’re born. If you have kids (especially if you have more than one), you can attest to the fact that they are different from the get-go. I think about my friend Rachel’s two kiddos, and really, there was a big difference in them even during the two pregnancies. I’m not enough of an expert on that to go into any more detail, but I’m sure y’all have seen it for yourselves. So just think, God created you, not just your body, but your personality as well. He came up with the way you relate to the world around you, the ways you like to be loved, the ways you demonstrate love to others, the things that break your heart, the things that stir your soul.
My friend Carla is easily startled, and she told me once that her mother said that even when she was in the womb, when the creepy theme music of a crime drama TV show came on, she would wriggle around like crazy, making her poor mama very uncomfortable. And I don’t remember a time ever in my life that I didn’t love music. Maybe my mom can shed more light on that, but for as long as I can remember, it’s been my favorite thing.
I realize there are all kinds of scientific arguments you could make to explain these things, but I don’t think any of them negate the idea of a creator. In fact, I think they support it, but that is beside the point.
We’ve been created. We were born with the basics fully formed and only in need of development, yet we still allow ourselves to be re-created by things that are not our creator. We let the media tell us that our bodies were formed incorrectly and should be adjusted to adapt to society’s standard of beauty. We let our teachers tell us that if we don’t follow the right 5-paragraph formula, our way of communicating is wrong. We let boys tell us that if we were more like so-and-so, we’d be worthy of their adoration. We let a lack of curiosity in others create in us the sense that we’re not worth pursuing or being known. We let laziness in others tell us that we are too much (too fill-in-the-blank). We let men who don’t want to understand us tell us that we’re crazy. We let so many things tell us that we are in some way shameful.
But just like God asked Adam and Eve, “Who told you that you were naked?” (Genesis 3:11), he asks us, “Who told you that you were malformed/unacceptable/unworthy/not valuable/too much/crazy/shameful?” Why do we allow someone who is not our creator to tell us who we are? What do they know? And what gives them the right? Yes, Adam and Eve were naked, but Genesis 2:25 says they felt no shame about it. The shame was added later.
So what if you don’t look like Scarlett Johansson? It doesn’t matter. There’s no shame there. And say you’re really, really organized or boisterous or intense or tall or talkative or bold. Who told you those were bad things? I’ll tell you who: Jerks who were too lazy to find a way to use those things to benefit everyone, so they told you to be less of yourself to make things easier on them in that moment. And if you’re 30 years old and have never even held hands with a boy, it is not because you’re unlovable, unworthy, or in any way not completely special. Here’s who you are:
- a unique creation of God
- someone God knows and loves (yes, at the same time)
- someone Jesus died to set free
Y’all, don’t let anyone or anything in the world re-create you to be anyone other than who God made you to be. You are already loved, and that’s enough.
Posted by beth on November 23, 2011
I don’t know how life works, really. I don’t know how you go from one phase into another, I don’t know how you raise kids, I don’t know how relationships are formed, grown, lost, rekindled, etc., and I don’t have a clue in the world what I’m doing most of the time. I just get up every day and tell myself to get in the shower. Then I make a mental note to call the rental office later and tell them my tub is stopped up again. Then I choose clothes to put on, sometimes with greater effort than other times. Then I put my makeup on the same way I’ve done it for the last fifteen years and try to do something with my hair that I don’t find boring even though I know that no one else in the world ever finds my hair boring. I do what I have predetermined that I will do each day, and if I haven’t predetermined anything, I’ll probably spend the day watching Bones on Netflix.
I don’t know how to date or get married or find out what goes on in the minds of men or really even how to love people well at all, and I know I screw it up on a daily basis, but I’m thankful for the grace my friends and family have shown me over the years as I’ve begun to at least want to figure it out. I don’t know how to proceed from here, but that’s ok because I’m thankful for my family and friends who are willing to walk with me even as I wander in circles. I don’t know where I’ll end up or how I’ll get there, but I’m thankful for companions along the journey.
There’s so much I don’t know. So much. And the learning curve of my life right now feels so steep. But I can’t help feeling thankful for all the people in my life who love me so completely, and I just want to encourage all of you just in case you feel clueless like me. You’re doing fine. Keep up the good work. And thank you.
My brain is not firing on all cylinders these days, so I apologize for the vagueness of this post. I don’t have complete, coherent thoughts or lessons learned or decisions made to share with you. This is where I am, so this is what you get. Thanks for loving me anyway.
Posted by beth on November 17, 2011
Y’all, seriously. I feel like I’m taking crazy pills. I put things down, and they disappear. I can’t find my mailbox key, I keep forgetting to buy more almond milk, I have no idea what I was going to write about here just now, and I feel fairly certain I was supposed to do something. Oh. I remember. Please hold.
Ok, done. Whew. Apparently I haven’t blown all my brains out of my nose this week along with twenty pounds of snot. Hang in there, gray matter! I still need you! I know I haven’t used you much this week at all, but that’s just because you got such an intense workout last week, and I wanted to give you a rest. Plus, I’m tired. Oh so tired. But don’t worry, I have every intention of pulling you off the bench very soon because I feel like not being in school has made me stupider, and I’d really like to work on that.
I’ve been reading about William Tyndale, and one interesting thing I read last night was that while he was at Oxford, he used a book by Erasmus called De Copia, in which there was an exercise to give “no fewer than one hundred fifty ways of saying, ‘Your letter has delighted me very much,’” the point being to force students to “use of all the verbal muscles in order to avoid any hint of flabbiness.” I’m always telling my students how rich the English language is and teaching them new ways to say things so they don’t have to use the same, tired words all the time, but that only challenges them. It doesn’t challenge me. And I’ve found myself recently unable to think of the words I want. Simple words like “radiant” and…oh, see, I’ve forgotten them again. Something must be done.
I know I’m still recovering from a crazy week last week and a cold, but those are poor excuses for losing one’s marbles, and I’m far too young for that. I know I’ll never be one of those old people who does Sudoku to keep her mind sharp because Sudoku already makes me want to punch a baby, but maybe I’ll be a prolific letter-writer or something. Something.
And maybe one day I’ll find my mailbox key.
Posted by beth on November 9, 2011
Y’all. I feel like tired that got tired, fell asleep, and woke up still tired. This week has been so utterly exhausting, I cannot explain it in words that currently exist in the lexicon. We’ve been going non-stop since Saturday morning, learning everything we can about World Team, church planting, discipleship, evangelizing, leadership and multiplication. And that only got us through Monday morning. For the rest of Monday and Tuesday, we were being assessed in smaller groups while we worked on tasks they gave us wherein we had to use everything we’d learned and some things we hadn’t. Then today, we each had at least two interviews that took 45 minutes to an hour apiece while simultaneously putting together a massive project with our groups. At the end of the day, it was all I could do to drive back to my host home and get in the bed. I didn’t sleep, but I rested my eyes (literally, turns out that’s really a thing) for an hour, and it was glorious. Then we went out for Philly cheese-steak. Well, I had Philly cheese-veggies, and oh my gosh it was amazing! The bread, y’all. It’s all about the bread.
So I think tomorrow is when we find out if they want us. I think. I’ve left my schedule in the car, but I think it’s tomorrow because after we find out, we still need more time to talk about our next steps. So that makes sense. Which is weird because I don’t think kindergarten math would make sense to me right now.
I said yesterday that if you ever decide you want to know everything about yourself that you never wanted to know or thought to ask, this is the place to do it. It’s crazy hard, but also super awesome, and even though I would love to sleep until 2012 right now, it’s been totally worth it. I’ve been prodded (verbally, nothing weird), challenged, tested, pushed and made to cry several times, but I’ve been more encouraged by these people than anything. Seriously. It’s been exhausting, yet oddly refreshing, and while I have the outcome I’m really hoping for in mind, if it turns out differently, it’ll still have been worth it.
But I’ll need to get a good week’s sleep before I acknowledge that.
Posted by beth on November 3, 2011
I know what you’re thinking. Which way is she going to go with this? Is it going to be about living the dream or Febreeze-ing a giant cockroach? Well, friends, why not both? Heck yes, this is all about having your cake and eating it too. Without any fuzzy bugs distracting you.
But not really. This is really about how I made a to-do list, and I’m doing so well knocking it out, I’ve started adding the things I’m already doing to it just so I can cross them off and feel more productive. Like “blog.” It’s on the list, and I’m doing it. Check me out! I might even add “watch 3 episodes of Bones” to it in a minute. We’ll see. I’m waiting for my laundry to dry (on the list) so I can pack (also on the list) for my out-of-town trip (wink wink). You know the one I mean. Wait. Maybe you don’t. Well, I mentioned in this post that World Team has invited me for a week of assessment, and it’s next week, so I’m leaving tomorrow after work to head up to PA for that.
My lesson plans are done (on the list) , I’ve got road trip snacks already (list), and I even got my oil and my air filter changed (not on the list). And while we’re on that, let’s talk for just a moment about Jiffy Lube, shall we? Do they really need to adjust my seat to drive the car 20 yards through the garage? I mean really? Then it feels all out of whack, and I can’t get it back exactly the way I had it. I would rather throw it in neutral and push it myself.
Ok, the dryer just stopped, so I’m off to fluff-n-fold. I’ll try to give y’all updates next week, but if you’re the praying kind, toss a few up for me over the next 10 days or so, for wisdom, stamina, a buddy to process with while I’m there, safe travel, etc.
Thanks, y’all. Hearts all around.
Posted by beth on October 29, 2011
I’m supposed to be finishing my lesson plans for next week right now. Technically, I was supposed to do them yesterday, but since I’m the one who set that schedule, I was also able to issue an executive order to obsessively look at Pinterest and watch Psych instead.
That’s lesson number one, friends. If you set the deadline, you can change it too.
So here I am. Blogging. Something I’ve also procrastinated on quite a bit of late. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Oh wait, I do. There is nothing going on that is of any interest to anyone. So lesson number two: Find nothing of value in your activity, and you will not have any motivation to do it.
Because I didn’t have any trouble at all focusing for an hour last night at craft night on making my Madonna skirt. Nope, none at all. I even recruited L-Josh to help. Because I had a party to attend, and there were going to be boys there. That’s right. I’m a 31-year-old woman who is still highly motivated by the presence of boys at a party. What? Don’t judge me. What motivates you? World peace? Pshh. A likely story.
Lesson three: Turn your procrastination into a discussion of something else entirely, AND make that discussion about someone else. That way, people forget that this is about you not doing what you’re supposed to be doing.
If only boys at a party could motivate me to finish my lesson plans. Could I do a whole lesson on flirting? I’m pretty sure this week’s list could be a list of bad pick-up lines. Oh, it’s starting to come together. But I only do lists on Thursdays, and I still have to plan for Tuesday. I suppose I could do a list of slang words for good-looking one day and the list of pick-ups the other. And I could teach dating terminology like “blind date,” “go Dutch” and “crush.” What else?
And just like that, I’m back on track! Thanks, y’all.
Posted by beth on October 20, 2011
1. I’m totally addicted to Pinterest. I love it, and I want to spend more time browsing the internet looking for things to pin, but I just don’t have that much time to waste. I think it’s probably for the best.
2. I’m in the middle of the second Bible test, and so far, I think I’m doing much better on this one. It’s essay questions, though, so that is not shocking for anyone.
3. In my slang class, I’ve been teaching them lists of words that all mean the same thing. They’re usually 10, 15 or 20 words/phrases/expressions for something. I’ve done words for “easy,” “great,” “good-bye,” “money,” “crazy,” “nothing” and “vomit.” These lists have been QUITE a hit, and they’re pretty fun for me to come up with as well. The words we use for vomit, especially, are just so descriptive. If you have an idea for a future list, please share. I’m open to suggestions, and my students will love you for it.
4. I’m going to Wilmington this weekend, and I am super-excited about it.
The end.
Posted by beth on October 13, 2011
Ok so now that everybody pretty much knows, I guess I can talk about it.
I might be moving to Europe. It’s weird to type it out into the world like that. So far, it’s just been discussed privately among a few close, trusted friends and people I knew would understand and be excited with me. Honestly, I have no idea what’s going to happen. I’ve been taking things one step at a time, and really, at any point, the whole process could just be over, and that would be it. We’ll see. But for now, we press on.
I’m applying to go with World Team either to Italy or Spain. This is the same organization I went to Italy with back in June, and so far, this process has been…quite thorough. It’s been very cool – I’m learning a lot about myself as I go – but it has also been taking up lots and lots of time that I might have otherwise spent blogging. Or (let’s be honest) watching every episode of Bones (again) on Netflix. The application alone was at least twelve typed pages, and then they sent me the personality tests, the spiritual gifts test and the Bible tests (one of which I told you I flunked miserably, the other I haven’t been brave enough to take yet).
Then they sent me the official invitation to join them for a week of information, evaluation and mutual assessment, and suddenly things got really real. First of all, I need about $700 to make it happen, which is the first real commitment I’ve had to make. Until now, it’s all been literally on paper. Just theoretical. Just a really, really amazing dream of a possibility. Just paella and/or pizza, European public transit, Romance languages and adventure abounding on every side. But when it hits your pocketbook, it hits home.
Then, speaking of home, I started thinking about all the things I’ll miss if I leave. Weddings, birthdays, family reunions, my godchildren growing like weeds, Baby Josh, maybe Moravian Sugar Cake in my PJs with my family on Christmas morning. I don’t know what I’ll miss and what I won’t, but I know I’m asking my family and friends to make as big a sacrifice as I’d be making in going.
But then I started thinking of all the things I’d miss if I didn’t go, namely the chance to do something awesome, something bigger than myself, something impossible, something I’ve felt compelled to do for the last seven years. I don’t know the details of what’s in store for me. I just know that if I don’t at least try, I’ll always regret it and wonder.
I think y’all would too. You know me. You know I’ve got this crazy pull toward Europe. I honestly think if I didn’t at least try to go, some of you would be disappointed. So I’m asking you to sacrifice with me, but also to share in the awesomeness, knowing that your letting go is fueling something incredible.
I didn’t intend to make this a fundraising post, so you can stop reading now if you want it to not be about money. But if you’re still with me, and you want to give a little bit to help me get to the assessment week, please contact me. Comment, call, email, text, smoke signals, carrier pigeon, dream invasion, note in study hall, whatever. But maybe don’t send me a pigeon. You know how I feel about birds.
Posted by beth on October 7, 2011
Ok y’all, I have about a million things to do, and I’m supposed to be lesson planning right now according to the schedule I set for myself last night, but I HAVE to tell you about how I was STRONGLY reprimanded by a very sassy postal worker the other day.
Back story. A couple of weeks ago, I went up to the mailboxes as the mail male was doing his thing. I live in an apartment complex, so the mailboxes are the kind where one large panel opens up about 20 of them at a time. Our panel was open, and I asked him if I could just reach in and grab ours. He said that was no problem, so I took my mail and went on my merry way.
Ok now. The other day, I got to the mailboxes as the mail female was there doing her thing. I was on the phone with Amaris, and I didn’t want to have too much going on at once, so I didn’t say anything to the mail lady. I just went in for my mail.
She whipped around so fast you’d have thought I was stealing her baby, and with a horrified look on her face and a sassy neck swivel, she said to me, and I quote, “NO. Uh-uh. Step AWAY from the mailbox.”
Shocked, and trying not to laugh, I don’t know how long I stood there with my mouth open before I replied, “Oh. I’m sorry. The other guy let me just get my mail before, so I thought…”
But I was interrupted, this time with an accompanying finger waggle, “Huh-uh. Wrong answer. No. Mm-mm.” Seriously, she said, “Wrong answer.”
At this point, I really wanted to try for a grab-n-run, but I was afraid she’d taze me or something, so I went for a more docile approach. “Uhh…ok, can I give you this then?” I said, tentatively holding out my Netflix envelope.
“Yes,” she said, obviously using every bit of restraint she had to keep from saying or doing something that might get her in trouble, “but you need to leave now.”
Oh my gosh, y’all, ask Amaris. I was giggling uncontrollably all the way back to the car. I still can’t believe this happened. It absolutely made my day, but I still haven’t gotten my mail.
Posted by beth on October 3, 2011
It’s amazing how many little kid games I have my students play in class. We play board games, Memory, Cootie Catcher, but my favorite is Telephone. It’s perfect because it incorporates listening and pronunciation skills, and today, I made it use writing skills too. Because I’m the jam.
We were working today on quoted speech. You know, where you tell exactly what somebody else said and use quotation marks. I only just recently realized that not all languages write quoted speech the same. We use a comma to introduce a quote while other languages use a colon. We also put both of our quotation marks up high whereas in other languages, one of them goes down low. It’s crazy times, I tell you.
So I started two messages going in opposite directions around the room. As each student heard the message, he/she had to write it down as a direct quote:
Miguel said, “The fly water is ugly bathtub.”
That way, when we got the messed up one at the other end, we could trace our way back through the mistakes. And I don’t know, but I think that was more fun than just hearing the messed up version at the end.
Well. One of the sentences was, “Maria has a pet monkey in Brazil.” In my lesson plans, I’d written, “__student__ has a pet monkey in __country__,” and I’d planned to see who was there in class today and pick someone with a good sense of humor to put in the sentence. Maria worked out well because she has a great sense of humor, and she was far enough around the room for the sentence to have changed significantly from the original by the time it got to her.
On the other end, it came out, “Maria likes smoking,” but before that, it was, “Maria likes monkeys,” and ,”Maria is a bad monkey in Brazil,” which I’m sure they thought was some crazy idiom I’d thrown in. You know, like Shaft is a bad mon… (Shut yo’ mouth!). Aaaaaand YouTube-ing the theme from Shaft…
Anyhoe, once we traced it back to the beginning and everyone knew what the original sentence was, Maria’s face lit up, and she said, “Yes! It’s true!”
Y’all. The woman straight up had a pet monkey in Brazil. I was so confused, I didn’t know what to do with myself. She thought someone had told me, and I had to show her my lesson plan to explain that it was all a big coincidence. Amazing.
Incidentally, the other message was, “Without geometry, life is pointless,” which they totally didn’t get, but I was amused.
Created
