Christmas Moments

I love Christmas. I really loved Christmas when I was a little girl. It was downright magical. The suspense of Santa. The endless amounts of sugar. Making presents for my parents at school. The church Christmas production. When you're 6, there's just not much to complain about in the month of December.

Once I found out the truth about Santa, I still found Christmastime to be magical. Mind you, I was devastated to find out this disappointing truth. But it was still exciting. I can remember waking up early with my siblings and the suspense of waiting to open our presents was almost unbearable yet completely thrilling.

The older I got it seemed the intensity of the Christmas magic lessened. It was still there. But instead of living in a mystical Christmas euphoria for a month, I would have moments that embodied Christmas bliss.

I can remember my sophomore year of college, my roommate and I went ridiculously all out to decorate our apartment for Christmas. I'm talking all out. We covered our walls with black paper and put up snowflakes, laid white, sparkly fluff on our living room floor for snow, hung a paper chain around the entire apartment, and there was more. I can remember one night we had all of the normal lights off, our Christmas lights on, hot peppermint tea in hand, and we sat in our magical living room talking for hours. That moment embodied Christmas bliss for me.

My Christmas in Thailand was...unique. But one morning, very, very early, I woke up my sweet girls to start getting ready for school. And like every morning, Sarah crawled into my lap and wanted to be held. This morning the girls were in the living room by our Christmas tree to avoid paint fumes in their bedroom. So, I held Sarah earlier than either one of us wanted to be awake in the light of the Christmas tree. And it was the sweetest Christmas moment for me.

And tonight I had one of those freeze time moments. We have the unbelievable delight of having my brother, his wife, and their cute daughter at our house for Christmas. After the AMAZING Christmas Eve dinner that my mom made, all of the "adults" were playing a game together, and I set to work to make a dessert for tomorrow. I was listening to some worship music when Ryann came walking into the kitchen asking, "Blue, whatchu doing?" Ryann immediately became my little helper. She kept saying, "I'm helpin Blue make a cake! So yummy!" We sat side by side, assembling quite the chocolate cake batter. Occasionally we would hear some shouts and loud laughter coming from the other room, but I wanted to be nowhere else. I loved having Ryann's help even if every step wasn't executed perfectly. It was a magical Christmas moment I wanted frozen in time.

And though I always want to have these moments that feel especially "Christmas," I'm finding I'm more and more grateful for the birth of my Savior. There's something about teaching preschoolers the story of Jesus' birth that made me take in the wonder of this story with a new appreciation. I tried to help them imagine a long journey to a far away place like Bethlehem. I tried to depict what a sight it must have been for the shepherds to witness the magnificent angels as they sang, "Glory to God in the hightest!" I wanted them to know that the reason why Christmas is so great is because God gave us the greatest gift of all- Jesus.

I sure do love Christmas. But I really love the reason for Christmas. Jesus' birth truly is the thrill of hope.

This is real

The past few weeks have transitioned me into a different phase of Seattle life. But before I proceed...

I got to go home for Thanksgiving at the mercy and generosity of my parents. And it was wonderful. I think Ryann was annoyed with my constant hugs, kisses, and squeezes after 2 hours. I just couldn't help it though; she's irresistible. It's amazing how much she's grown and matured. I wish I could put her in my 3s class. She's so stinkin' cute.

It was refreshing to see my family and some of my friends. I so appreciate the relationships that quickly pick-up without awkwardness or hesitancy. I am blessed beyond measure to have several of those in my life currently.

When it came time to leave, I was surprised at my inner resistance to head back to Seattle. I love my life here, but I was reminded of how much I left behind in Atlanta. Seattle is better than Atlanta for so many reasons in my mind, but Atlanta has relationships that are better than everything Seattle has to offer. Yet I'm confident this is where I'm supposed to be.

The thrill, adrenaline, and newness of my life has faded. Reality has sunk in: I'm a preschool teacher, high school cheer coach, and new resident of the state of Washington. None of it feels real. I take that back. The coach part feels very real. Because it's very time consuming. Very.

And I'm asking myself, "Now what?!"

I am confident that what I'm doing now, what I'm learning here, and how God is calling me deeper in relationship with Him is all purposeful. This is training ground for something later, and God is expanding my tool belt, if you will. But there's a part of me that's wondering how long I can settle here before I'll be taking off again. There's something very appealing to me about experiencing new things. Going new places. Meeting new people.

But the more attached I get to my team, the harder it sounds to pack up and go. At the beginning of the season, I was keeping the cheerleaders a little distanced from me, but I couldn't maintain that for long. My freshmen are begging me to stay until they graduate. But when I think about being here for the next 3.5 years, I shudder. I can really only handle one day at a time right now.

The past couple of days I've been reading 2 Corinthians 4. Verses 6 and 7 say this, "For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us."

As this next part of the transition process is feeling a little harder and a little more real, my prayer is that I would remain a jar of clay. It's so easy for me to want to come across as being something much more sophisticated than simple clay. When in fact, I am clay- with cracks, dents, and stains. Just as miraculous as it was when God spoke light into the darkness, so it is just as miraculous that God would allow me, a broken, fallen being, to have Christ live in me. The beauty of the Gospel. The amazingness of grace. I was but an ordinary, fragile, clay jar, and now Christ's power resides in me.

I pray that the inadequacy of who I am would be known so that the surpassing greatness of Jesus inside of me would be made so apparent.

Be Lifted High

[Written last night]

I'm currently sitting on the floor of a hallway in my apartment's clubhouse. There's free internet here; it's just not that great. I'm eager awaiting the face of my dear friend in South Africa via skype. Hoping this works!

We have parent teacher conferences starting tomorrow. Parent teacher conferences for my PRESCHOOL classes. One parent in my 4s actually told me she was nervous about them. I looked at her in shock, "Why are YOU nervous?!" She just laughed and said, "Every parent "wants" to hear the truth about their kid, but really, we long to hear someone else think the world of them."

This just in: I LOVE my preschoolers.

I wish I could scoop them all up and hold them close. I want to kiss their cheeks and hold them on my lap [I'm not allowed to in order to protect me and all teachers]. I would love to play with them all day instead of doing some of the things we do at school. I genuinely and wholeheartedly love my students. I often wonder what it would be like if these munchkins were mine. I mean, I already love them so much. I can't imagine what parents feel for their kids.

If convincing the parents of my students that I love their child deeply was all these little meetings were about, I think I would be at total ease about the next few days.

And for the most part, I'm feeling rather peaceful about the opportunity to sit down with each parent and talk about how awesome their kid is. But there are a few that I choose not to think about.

I am often overwhelmed with the reality that there are very few people who have access into the lives of these little guys like I do. What a privilege and an honor! I get to hang out with them, love them, and tell them more about this Jesus of mine. I also get to discipline them, instruct them, and help train them up in the ways of the Lord. It's a crazy thing for me to process. I know that most people don't remember their teacher when they were 4, so I'm reassured that I probably won't do long term damage! :)

Of all the things I'll teach them this year, I hope they remember that our God is biggest, strongest, and smartest. That He can be everywhere all the time. That He hears our prayers and knows when we're afraid. That we can call on His name anytime, and He always hears us. I want them to know that the stories in the Bible are real. I want them to know Jesus.

I learned really early on the importance and necessity of modeling. Not only do I show them what I want them to do for every project, every craft, and every writing worksheet, I show them what I don't want them to do. And whether I like it or not, I'm showing them what a relationship with Jesus looks like. I'm showing them what it means to love others, treat each other with kindness, show mercy, be patient, and choose to be gentle. I pray that I'm modeling to them a relationship with Jesus that's honoring and authentic.

That's what I want for my kids. To know God. So, when a parent is voicing concern about their child's progress in reading, I want to say, "Ya but ask them about David and Goliath!" I am fairly confident all of these kids are going to graduate high school on time. If they aren't reading right now, I promise this does not mean you (or I) are a failure.

I stayed in my classroom a little longer than necessary tonight. I put on Came to My Rescue by Hillsong (very loudly I might add), and I just walked around and prayed over my classroom. I asked that in my words, my love, and my life that He would be lifted high. That in my conversations with parents, in my classroom, and in my little guys that He would be lifted high.

In my life, be lifted high.

In my world, be lifted high.

In my love, be lifted high.

[insert title]

I always have lots to say but never the time I want to put my thoughts together. So, this won’t be thought provoking. Just my ramblings for right now...

:: This has been one of the best fall seasons I’ve ever experienced!! The weather has been beautiful and nothing like I expected. Soon to change, but for now, a wonderful surprise!

:: On Monday, one of the parents in my 4s class came up to me and said that “Bob” wasn’t feeling good on Saturday and had a hard time swallowing his food because it hurt his throat. He stopped and said, “I need to tell Miss Rodriguez.” His mom was confused and asked why. He answered, “Because I know she’ll pray for me.” If my kiddos aren’t the brightest at the end of the year, I hope they at least know that, yes, I’ll always pray for them!

:: I’ve discovered that one of my current passions is to let kids be kids. While doing a shaving cream activity on Friday, I wanted to tell them to stop being so messy and try not to get too crazy. Thankfully, I stopped myself before I could enforce adult behavior on their 4 year old selves. I want them to be 4. I want them to be messy when given the opportunity. I want them to have great imaginations and ask silly questions and tell me their stories. I want my 6th graders to be 6th graders. They aren’t little adults. So, I shouldn’t treat them like they are. Or have expectations that they are.

:: I have to assess all of my students and ask them a series of questions about colors, numbers, letters, etc. They also have to do things like write their name, cut on a line, stand on one foot, and sort items. The last part is asking them what they want to be when they grow up. One of my 3 year old boys answered. “I want to be 5 and big.”

:: I regularly get prayer requests for the Star Wars characters and all of the Disney princesses.

:: I still get mistaken for a high school student on an almost weekly basis. This week- 3 times!

:: My friend is coming on Wednesday, and I. CANNOT. WAIT. It’s hard for me to adequately express my excitement over visitors. I like that my parents have a glimpse into my world. And now someone else will too. And that’s exciting!! Not to mention I haven’t seen her since July.

:: I’m content. My life is a little hectic. I don’t have much community here, but it’s improving! I don’t necessarily find every part of this season easy or fun, but I’m content where I am. I was driving back from meeting up with someone in the actual city part of Seattle, and I said aloud, “I love living here!” I really do love Seattle.

:: As much I love Seattle, Chick-fil-A, Moe’s, and Willy’s are noticeably missing from my life. In that order.

Then and Now

In so many ways, my current life reminds me of the life I lived in Thailand. Sure, there are some HUGE differences. People speaking English is a pretty big one. I can drive. I have much easier access to people back home thanks to cell phones. I could go on. But I’m often in the middle of doing something, and I’m struck with the similarities.

I’m in a new place. Living by myself. Working with preschoolers. Feeling quite vulnerable, quite frequently. Throw in the occasional struggle with inadequacy. Again, I could go on.

The fact that I’m frequently reminded of my life in Thailand is both comforting and saddening.

It’s comforting because I look back on the Thailand season and know that season of my life changed me forever. God grew me like no other 6 months of my life so far. My relationship with the Lord went deeper, and my desire to know the Word better was sparked significantly. Not to mention, there were a certain 9 kids in my life that I was pretty crazy about. I shared my experiences with no one, which has made my time all the more sacred. I find comfort in the knowledge that though I was living out the hardest 6 months of my life to date, God met me right where I was at.

There’s comfort in remembering that time of my life. I hung pictures of the kids up in my apartment Saturday, and it felt really good to do that. I looked at the pictures for a while, and I let myself go back to those memories. I caught myself saying things out loud as I looked at the familiar pictures. I wish I could kiss Sarah’s cheeks, rub Peter’s head, and sing to Gong one more time. I want to hear Paul’s laugh. And watch Luca’s face light up when he gets really, really excited. I want to see Mark dance around with pure joy, and Om and Am be their goofy selves. I want more funny conversations with Ann right before she falls asleep.

See, there’s a pain in frequently remembering Thailand. I miss it with an ache.

Last night I walked to the grocery store just because I can. When I was in Thailand, I walked everywhere. I would walk over a mile to get to the grocery store, and then I would walk all the way back, arms full. The grocery store closest to me is no where near a mile away. As I walked, I longed for the streets of Thailand. I made the mental note that I felt safer walking in Chiang Mai at night than I did walking here. But I probably wouldn’t have said that when I was there.

I have a feeling that eventually my current life won’t remind me of Thailand all the time. Right now this still feels pretty new, and I’m pretty unattached to people here other than my 20 preschoolers and 14 cheerleaders. I’m still working on the 96 6th graders! :)

This life change has caused me to be much more in tune to what God is speaking to me. We’re having an ongoing conversation throughout the day, and I once again find myself longing to know Him better. I sense that God is calling me deeper in my relationship with Him. The deeper the water, the harder it is to carry excess baggage and stay afloat. And I’m finding that to be true. As God draws me closer to Him, I’m faced with a decision: Do I struggle to go deeper and not let go of some of this stuff? Or do I fully surrender all of me?

Obviously there is a better choice.

And some days I find that I have no option but to wholly surrender all of me. And then there are days when I say I would rather hang onto this crap even if it’s making my life ten times harder than necessary.

I’m so thankful to be in this place where God has my attention. I so desire to have God grow my faith and stretch the limitations I’ve placed on Him. So far, so good!

Whiplash!

I'm busy- story of my life.

Last weekend my parents came to visit me, and it was my favorite weekend in Seattle to date. The weather was gorgeous and perfect. This whole month we've had unusually (so they say) beautiful weather. We've had rain just a couple of times the entire month. I think I'm in for a rude awakening soon.

My parents are awesome! Their visit was entirely too fast, but I'm so grateful that they took the time to come. They overwhelmed me with their desire to help me and bless me. My mom volunteered in my classroom on Friday, and then left for the rest of the day. When I got home to my apartment, my cupboards and refrigerator were FILLED. Filled with food that I would never buy because I wouldn't have deemed them a necessity. I'm talking chips and salsa, hummus and carrots, wheat thins and laughing cow cheese spread- chipotle queso flavor, BLUEBERRIES, my favorite cream for my coffee, and the list could go on. Oh my gosh. Talk about spoiled.

I loved showing them Seattle in all of it's beauty. I got to take them to all the places that I don't have time to visit in my normal hectic schedule. It was awesome.

But most importantly, my parents listened to me. I know I dominated most of our conversations. It was the first time in a while I got to be really transparent and talk about what was going on right now. Someone actually cared to hear what God was teaching me and showing me. I got to receive wise counsel and get a little perspective on things (i.e. my spending habits- or lack of spending habits). I am so blessed to have parents who are still investing in my life and desire to point me to Jesus even at my ripe old age of 23! :)

And now I'm back to "normal." I'm experiencing some whiplash. When people ask me how I'm doing, they're really only looking for me to say, "Good!" Especially when they ask me as they're walking out the door. I'm back to building relationships with my co-workers and getting to know new people. These are good things. It was just nice to not be in that mode this weekend. Really nice.

This isn't a poor me session. I am abundantly blessed in so many ways. I'm just still transitioning to this new place. I continue to love, love, love all of the young people God has placed in my life. They range in age from 3-18, and I love that! I love going from 4 year olds to 11 year olds to 15 year olds all in the same day.

I'm thankful for my rich relationship with my parents who choose to bless me and love me in such a meaningful way.

I'm really looking forward to my next visitor who will be here in 20 days. Not that I'm counting or anything...

Well Now That's Different

In my 6.5 weeks of being here in the Seattle area, I've noticed some differences.

For starters, there are coffee shops EVERYWHERE! This a coffee culture. They have closet size coffee stands all over the place. These "espresso stops" have all kinds of coffee and specialty drinks. It's crazy. It's just understood here that everyone drinks coffee. And more often than not, people will say, "Let's grab some coffee!" Rarely do people suggest going to lunch or dinner. Just coffee.

When you let someone into your lane, the driver does not wave to show appreciation for the kind gesture. They just come on over. It's highly unusual for someone to give the wave. I always do.

The food genre of "BBQ" doesn't really exist here. I've seen literally one BBQ restaurant the whole time I've been out here.

People in the northwest vacation in Hawaii all. the. time. Someone asked me how many times I've been, and I told them I went 1 time. Their response? "Oh my goodness!! Just once?!" It's a pretty big deal that I've been to Hawaii. Why are you looking at me like that?!

People actually plan their days and commutes around the carpool lane. Several times people have been surprised that I've driven into the city by myself since that meant I couldn't drive in the carpool lane. These Seattleites LOVE their carpool lane.

We drink pop up here. And pronounce bag with a long "a" sound.

There are really funny misperceptions of the South. They think everyone goes to church and has good manners and eats fried okra for potluck lunch on Sundays. The girls are confident the men in the South are all true gentlemen, and they would have better luck finding a decent husband down there. And they don't believe me when I tell them it gets cold or that it rains.

From what I've observed there are far more biracial couples here. But not many black people in general.

I'm not sure what kind of food dominates the greater Atlanta area, but here, there is a teriyaki place or noodle soup place on every corner. Or both.

And there is definitely significantly less churches here than in Atlanta. I can go for miles without seeing one.

OH!!! And the spiders here are huuuuuuuuuuuuuge!

Those are my observations for now.

Delight

The more I get to know my preschoolers, the more I love them. I so enjoy my classes. It was easy for me to enjoy the 4s right away. Though they misbehave more often than the 3s, they converse and interact with me and each other with much greater ease. When we were in chapel this morning, I looked at them and couldn't help but smile. We have our issues, but we're like a family.

My 3s have become such a joy. I have always enjoyed the kids, but the 8 of them together were an interesting mix. Two of the 8 don't speak English, and that's just hard. But in the past week and a half, I feel like we finally have that family feel.

One little boy in my 3s class is quite the cutie and has such a sweet and tender heart. I really enjoy him, and I look forward to seeing him every Tuesday and Thursday. I've learned that he loves motorcycles, planes, and puzzles. LOVES them. I know to always get the basket of planes down before he ever comes into the classroom because he will want to play with them. I know which puzzles he'll enjoy. And his favorite food is white tic-tacs.

I was cleaning up after class one day, and I was putting away our puzzles. I thought to myself, "Gosh, I really want to find an airplane or motorcycle puzzle for Logan. He'll love it so much!" I was picturing his reaction, and I knew he would be pumped!

In this moment, I immediately sensed the Lord. And I got this picture of God taking great delight in giving His children good gifts. Logan isn't mine. But I want to bless him and all of my other students. The better I know them the easier it is for me to find little things to bless their hearts individually. If I desire to love these little ones intentionally, I can't imagine God's heart.

It's always been easy for me to know that God loves me; I often would/do wrestle with this concept of God liking me and taking delight in who I am.

Sometimes I still have this incorrect picture of God. I forget that He is a Father and has the heart of a father- but perfect. I have an awesome dad who loves me and loves loving me. I focus so much on the holiness, awesomeness, and worthiness of God, and I forget that He has a Father's heart. God is worthy of my affection. And I am so unworthy of His. But He gives it anyways.

The other day I got a package in the mail from my aunt that was so specific to my heart I was amazed. In her note she said she was confident that these were gifts from the Lord. He just chose her to give them to me. I read her note, and I was overwhelmed. Because I was already processing this concept of God wanting to bless me specifically.

God has been stirring up a lot in me, and I haven't been able to write anything about it. But this is one of the areas that keeps coming back up.

God delights in me as His child.

I want to ask, "But why?"

But for now, I'm just going to be quiet.

My Heart Is Happy

Today was such a great day!

Here's my list of really wonderful things that happened.

1. I got 8 (yes, that's right- 8) hours of sleep last night. I woke up feeling RESTED!! It was unreal and a first for my Seattle life.

2. I got to work early, like always, and I got to skype with my most awesome sister-in-law totally unexpectedly. Which means I also got to see the sweetest face in the world, my dear niece. Who could've cared less that "Blue" was on the screen, but it's okay. I got 20 minutes with Erin, and that was a gift.

3. For the 2nd time this week, staff devotions were wonderful. This in itself would've been enough to make today great.

4. I got to go to elementary chapel for the first time (preschool doesn't go, we have our own). We sang, "We Fall Down," and it was the first time that I have heard kids other than my Thailand kids sing that song. At first, it was overwhelmingly sad, and I longed to have all 9 of those children with me. But then I soon enjoyed the beautiful and precious sound of hundreds of kids singing, "And we cry holy, holy, holy." All I could think of was Gong. This filled my heart with a joy and a gratefulness that I can't possibly explain. I do miss those 9 precious children more than anyone realizes. I'm thankful they have left a permanent mark on my heart.

5. Today was Celebrate Blue day in my 3s class, and it was so fun! Normally, the 3s is the much harder class for me, but I went into it with a different attitude. I just wanted to enjoy these kids. They have been entrusted into my care for the school year, and I want to be a part of pointing them to the heart of Jesus. We had a great Blue Day. Blue jell-o, blue tortilla chips, blue play dough, blue art projects, and blue home-made party hats. It was so fun.

6. Two of my staff friends that live here surprised me at cheer practice today! I screamed. It was so wonderful. Seeing a part of my staff family is the next best thing to my own family. I hadn't seen either one of them since I moved here.

7. We went to dinner, and they paid. What a treat!! I have been on the receiving end so frequently, and it's sometimes a hard place to be. But I've learned to truly receive.

8. I had an awesome voice message on my phone to completely top off my day.

Did I mention that it was a PERFECT fall day here in Seattle? Blue sky. The right amount of chill and warmth. Breezy. Gosh. It was awesome.

This has been truly a wonderful day. It's been a gift. There is no other way to describe it. And tomorrow my classes have a field trip, so I won't even be in the classroom. I'll be outside at the zoo. Forecast? More perfect fall weather.

Sigh.

This girl has a happy heart.

So Thankful

Last Friday, the dad of one of my students (we'll call her Elly) in the 4s class came in to quickly tell me that his daughter was in the middle of brain surgery. They discovered a tumor on her brain on Thursday, and they needed to operate immediately. He tells me this at 8:25, and I'm starting class with the other students in 5 minutes.

I was quite shaken with the news, and I wanted to cancel class. But the show must go on. He left, and I promised that we would all be praying.

This sweet, sweet little girl's face was in my thoughts all weekend long. There was an added heaviness to my days, and I was so troubled for this family. On Sunday I called the mom to see if I could get an update on how Elly was doing. There wasn't really an update, and once again I promised that we would all be praying.

As I tried to think about the options for Elly and her family, I was constantly resisting the fear that once again I would witness the suffering of a little one and inevitably face loss. When I tried to picture Elly sick and fighting for her life, tears would spring to my eyes, and I would quickly erase the mental image. I was confident that I couldn't possibly handle this sort of heartache again, and I didn't know where to begin to pray.

Because last year, I prayed, confident that God was going to heal Samuel. And He didn't. This affected my relationship with the Lord more than I could possibly explain. Those were some of the most painfully alone days I've had. It's one thing to distance myself from people, but to distance myself from my Savior- it was a horrible season of life.

I dreaded the road I was potentially going to walk down again. See, Elly and I became friends quickly. She's got a real dry sense of humor and has a bright sarcastic future ahead of her. She's awesome. As with most teachers, I'm sure, you attach quickly to your students.

I've been praying for Elly. My classes have been praying for her. My family has been praying for her. The staff at school has been praying for her. And I finally heard that she's going to be okay. The growth on her brain wasn't even a tumor. But it was doing damage to her brain. They removed the entire thing, and she's now in physical therapy. She hasn't left the hospital yet, but one day, she'll return to my class.

When I heard the news, I nearly fell apart once again. Even I didn't realize what I was carrying in the past 7 days. I knew that I feared the worst, but I didn't realize just how much this was weighing on me. I'm so thankful that Elly will be okay, and her sarcastic self will lighten up my classroom again soon-ish.

I'm thankful that I know God is good when I get these good reports and when I get the bad ones. I'm thankful that I learned what I did in the past year. I'm thankful that I know God is going to use whatever it takes to make His name famous. And if that means bringing tragedy to people's lives, then may His name be magnified in the midst of it! If that means bringing healing to Elly's brain, then may all of our praises to Him ring from the mountaintops! I'm able to say with confidence, "Do whatever you must in me and through me and around me to accomplish Your will!"

For today, I'm rejoicing that God in His grace and mercy has spared Elly and her family a very difficult road. I can't wait to get Elly back in class.

I Don't Understand

It's not that I don't value writing here; it's that I usually value sleep more.

There were a couple nights last week when I went to bed at or a little before 10. I've just been exhausted as I try to get over this sickness that's hanging on and be ready for preschool each day and coach 2 teams and prepare for a side choreography job and find a place to live. Gosh. I'm ready for a nap.

The good news is that preschool is starting to feel a little more natural, coaching is natural, and I've found a place to live! Once I'm in my own place, I am hopeful that there will be a little more of a settled feeling in my life.

I'm still in the midst of finding a church to call "home." But one of the requirements of where I teach is going to the church that's associated with the school twice a month. I was required to be there last Sunday for Educator's Sunday (funny), and I decided to go back today to, in all honesty, get the 2nd one over with.

This week the service was about embryo adoption. This church has a new ministry to help parents who are unable to conceive to adopt an embryo. I had not really heard of this whole process until a couple of weeks ago. The concept of embryo adoption is still being processed in my mind.

When people try for in vitro fertilisation, there is typically several embryos that never get used. Couples have the option of donating them to science or allowing them to be adopted. Either way, from my limited understanding, the embryos go into a freezer to be stored until later use. They showed a news clip of a couple who did the embryo adoption, and their daughter is now 6 years old.

They highlighted 3 families at church that day who had children that used to be frozen. [Side note: I couldn't believe how upsetting it was to me that they casually referred to these children as freezer babies. They would say, "Their daughter was frozen for 4 years..." ] And then they brought on the stage the first family that this church helped go through the embryo adoption process. They brought up their baby, and they shared their story.

The church was very clear that they were not endorsing the fact that these embryos are created in such excess, but they are trying to make good come from the situation.

There are literally thousands of embryos frozen all over the country. Which, I think if you had asked me prior to today, I would have said, "Yes, I know that." But now my understanding of it all has broadened a little bit.

I was in my seat, crying, because I was looking at these 5 children, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that they were frozen at one point. And there are thousands more embryos in a freezer. Seeing these kids, it just broke my heart. And I just don't know what to do with this reality- there are probably thousands of lives that will never live.

I left church and went directly to a park to walk and try to understand what I had just heard. And figure out what I'm supposed to do with the information. Because right now, it just makes me sad. Deeply, deeply sad.

I was talking with people after church, and they were processing out loud, while I was processing internally. But they asked, "Why would someone adopt an embryo when there's tons of kids who have been born already that need homes?" And thankfully, someone else chimed in saying, "If we believe life happens at conception, than we should value the life of that embryo too!"

But I just don't understand. The fact that these embryos exist outside of the way God designed them to is mind boggling in itself. But I just need some help. What would most honor God in this mess? Is the answer to stop having so many embryos created? Is the answer to have all of them adopted?

All I know is that when I look at these children who were once frozen, it pains my heart to think of all of the other delightful children that could be in this world but instead are frozen.

Humbled

Back in August- last year- I went to Seattle to do a mini-camp. I got to be here 4 days for free basically. It was delightful. This was in the midst of some not so great times, and one evening I drove to Lake Washington (on accident). I stumbled upon a beautiful sunset that took my breath away. I prayed that day that I just wanted to be near God. And then that happened.

I cried as I sat on top of that hill and did nothing but take in the beauty of the Lord. I did not rush from that place, but I just sat there. Since that day, I've had a picture of the sunset taped in several places to remind me of the faithfulness of God. That evening, a part of me knew that I would be back in Seattle.

That back drop is necessary for me to continue.

Today was kind of a rough day. I left the house at 6:38 am, and I got back at 6:08 pm. It was a long day not just because I was gone for about 12 hours, but the day itself was just not smooth.

Staff devotions were a joke...again.

My 4 year olds class was going fairly well until their recess got moved in doors- a pretty normal thing for Seattle. After playing with play dough and eating a snack, an understood chaos fell over my classroom. Let me clarify- the kids all understood; I did not. I wasn't sure what came over my preschoolers, but they turned into circus performers.

My 6th grade P.E. class was a delight. 5 points for them.

The staff meeting- no comment.

The commute- yikes.

I had some disappointing stops along the way, and the last thing I wanted to do was be around people. But my host family was expecting me for dinner, and so I walked in the door with a weary smile on my face.

I left soon after dinner to go on a walk and regroup. I'm exhausted. I'm fighting sickness. I'm almost perpetually around people, and that's not good for me. I'm eager to find a permanent place to live, but I'm a little hesitant to commit to an apartment (NO wonder I struggle in relationships- haha).

As I was walking, I caught a glimpse of some spectacular color in the sky. I kept walking until I found a good spot to sit back and behold God's glory. Within minutes I was seeing the sky turn brilliant yellows, oranges, pinks, and purples. It was beautiful.

I sat and was reminded of that hilltop experience a little over a year ago. Once again I was reminded of the faithfulness of God. I was reminded that God is majestic and glorious. That even the heavens declare His greatness. And an overwhelming desire came over me to be an open sky on which God paints His glorious sunsets. That I would be used to display His power, His creativity, and His faithfulness.

I am humbled that I get to be in communion with a holy God who sets His glory in the sky yet dwells with the brokenhearted. I continue to be amazed at the bigness and wholeness of my God. His attributes are not all parts of the whole. It's not a circle that has equally divided parts like when kids are first learning fractions in math. He is wholly gracious. Wholly just. Wholly merciful. Wholly faithful. And the list goes on.

And my desire is to simply be wholly His.

7 nights

It's Saturday. Hard to believe that a week ago I drove into Seattle. As in, I actually exited off I-90 and onto another interstate.

My journey to get to Washington was ideal. I don't say that lightly. I think [know] I needed the time to process what I just agreed to do. I would be driving or riding, and a minor panic would strike. I would (try) to quickly submit that to the Lord with a small part of me thinking, "Did You reeeeeally lead me all the way out here?"

I think I must take this moment to publicly thank my traveling companion. Being in a small car for 40 hours is no small task. Doing it peacefully with someone isn't easy either. When I first talked about making this cross-country move, my brother almost immediately volunteered to make the road trip with me. Shocked, I quickly agreed, inwardly hoping that he wouldn't change his mind. And he didn't.

And I couldn't be more grateful for what he and his wife did. Leaving his family for a full week, driving- sometimes mindlessly- across the country, and staying with me for a few days upon arrival in the Emerald City.

I'm so thankful for the time we had in the car, the moments that led to wonderful laughter, the meals we ate in a flash, the ridiculous and beautiful things we saw along the way, the stupid Atlas trivia games we played, the feeling of accomplishment because we conquered I-90, all of it. I had a great time crossing the country.

And he graciously encouraged me through my first couple days of school without complaining about dropping me off at 7:20 or picking me up afterwards. He listened to my stories about my kids, threw the frisbee with me after day 1, and made me laugh as I was gagging due to stress. Dropping him off at the airport was my low point of the month probably. Moving to Seattle seemed so easy. I didn't understand why people had such a hard time moving places by themselves.

And then I realized why. I had my brother with me the entire time. But leaving him Tuesday night was a sad, sad time for me. The fear trickled into my car before he ever got out. Though I know he was ready to go, and his family was certainly eager to receive him, I wanted nothing more than to announce to SeaTac airport that he was a security threat in order to force him to stay.

Anthony hugged me and said, "You're gonna do it! You're gonna make friends and settle in. Find a good church. Get plugged in. You're gonna be great, Marissa! You can do this!" I was already crying, so I took this opportunity to just leave him.

And since then, Seattle just hasn't been the same. Because now this isn't some crazy, temporary adventure; it's my life. My alarm goes off around 5:50. AM! I teach pre-school. I coach 2 squads. And this just in- now I teach 6th grade PE and work the tutorial room two mornings a week.

I am still very excited to be here. I think this is a valuable learning season, and I anticipate some serious refining. Small children have a way of being God's tool for that. I will say, hearing 12 4 year olds and 8 3 years call me their own version of Miss Rodriguez is delightful. The majority of my 3 year olds sound like this: Miss Waad-weee-guz. Who can't help but smile at that?! They're trying so hard.

I'm very much still transitioning to life here in Washington. I've got lots to say, but I'm going to call it quits now. Thanks for the prayers. I appreciate them greatly.

Not Enough Time

Now I can say with a new appreciation that teachers don't get paid enough. And I'm looking at the world of preschool. I can't imagine anything beyond it. I say that not because I'm awesome and the job I'm doing is stellar; I say it because of the numerous hours required outside of the school day.

Yes, I just moved across the country. Ya, I'm figuring out this preschool thing on a day to day basis. No, I don't have a place to call my own. All of which affect the next statement, but I believe I would be saying it regardless.

I'm exhausted.

Anthony picked me up from school today, and I wanted to just fall over. And I feel like I shouldn't even be writing this post because surely I could tackle a project. So, here comes a brief summary.

I have 12 4 year old students without a teacher aide in my classroom. I have them from 8:15ish until 11:15ish. I have 7 boys and 5 girls. Two of the boys are twins, and that was a bit challenging. The girls are very well behaved. All of them. The boys- gosh...we've got some work to do. I think we're going to have a lot of fun, and I'm looking forward to the creative aspect of this job. Tomorrow will be my 3 year olds class. There will only be 7 of them. They'll basically do a watered down version of today.

Overall, I'm just feeling tired and waaaaaay behind. I do really like the kids I met today. I looked at Anthony this evening and said, "I kinda miss my kids." So, I think that's good. And yes I know I won't always feel that way. I can just hear people now..."That'll change!"

I'm hoping this weekend I'll recover and make some good progress in planning. Right now I'm just hanging on.

Friday seems so, so long away.

849.60

Alarm went off at 6:15 AM EST.

By 7:00 AM, goodbyes were complete, and Anthony and I pulled out of the driveway.

Today we saw parts of Georgia, Tennessee, Kentucky, Illinois, and Missouri.

At 8:51 PM CST, we arrived at our destination in Missouri- 849.6 miles and a dinner with our cousin.

Mind you, we still have 1802.4 miles to go.

Tomorrow, bring on Nebraska, Iowa, South Dakota, and Wyoming.

Spirits are high; my car is low. Because it's so loaded with my stuff.

It's been a good day.

How I Got Here

Not that I have a multitude of readers, but it was requested that I share some of the details of how everything just fell into place for this move.

Around the time of my birthday I was playing some phone tag with a lady wanting to talk to me about potentially coaching at her daughter's school. She got my name from another FCC staffer, and in all honesty, I had no interest in coaching this team. Coaching is so time consuming, and I knew there was no way I could coach and have a job that would pay my bills.

I spoke with her on Tuesday the 10th, and she was thrilled that I was even considering the position [mind you- I really wasn't considering it]. I made it pretty clear that there would be no coaching unless I got a job that complimented the hours that coaching required. She quickly said, "Why don't you just apply for a job at this school?" This school is the largest Christian school in the state of Washington. She was confident I could find something.

About 10 minutes after I got off the phone with her, the athletic director of the school called me to chat about coaching and try to get to know me.

This conversation was probably one of the most significant pieces of the puzzle. I was so impressed with his kindness and care, and he apparently was surprised by my faith and courage to move to Seattle by myself. This caused me to take genuine interest in the school, and he immediately went to work finding a place for me.

On Thursday, I spoke with him again. He had tried to e-mail me 3 times, but he typed in my e-mail address wrong each time. By Friday, we had figured this out, and he sent me an application to coach and teach pre-school. I turned this in late Sunday night, all the while looking for morning jobs because I was fairly confident the preschool thing wasn't going to work out. They already had 2 applicants [with degrees] that completed the interview process, and the superintendent just needed to pick one.

On Tuesday afternoon, I got a call from the school's superintendent, and he said, "I'm wanting to hire you, but I need to have a formal interview with you. Are you free tomorrow?" Between Tuesday afternoon and Wednesday afternoon, I filled out a much more in depth application, turned it in, and prayed that God would have His way. Wednesday's interview was...interesting. But in the end, he offered me a job teaching 4 year old preschool, 3 year old preschool, and the head coaching position at the high school.

The next day I was e-mailed a contract, and on Friday, I faxed in a signed copy of it. School starts on the 30th, and I arrive in Seattle on the 28th.

Yes, I'm a little stressed. Correct- I did not get to say bye to everyone I wanted to because my departure date had to be moved to 5 days sooner. My room? Oh it's a disaster right now.

But the above story, does not make sense. And I know that. There's no explanation for this superintendent hiring me, the younger, less qualified, cross-country applicant whom no one has met. Other than God is working things out in a way that cannot be explained. For a long time I thought I was moving to Seattle just for the sake of an adventure, but now I do believe this God has a much greater purpose in all of this. I'm excited for the journey ahead of me. I'm baffled and humbled by God's grace that has been poured out repeatedly in this process. I'm so grateful.

So- that's how I got here.

Tomorrow...it's go time!

Hands Up

I can so easily remember my very first roller coaster experience.

I was 8 years old at Six Flags in Atlanta. It was hot- duh! My family was there with another family that has kids close in age to me and my siblings. We had been having a great time, and then it was mentioned.

Scream Machine.

Now, Scream Machine is one of the most mild roller coasters you can venture on, but this was my first real roller coaster. We had walked past it a few times throughout the day, and then the crowd said they were ready to ride it. During the course of the day I was deliberating in my head if I was going to go for it. Emily, the slightly older but way cooler friend who was there, said she was definitely going. Obviously, I needed to go too.

We stood in line for a long, long, long time. But had you asked me at the time, it wasn't long enough. The ENTIRE time, my stomach was churning and my heart was pounding. I would watch that coaster over and over again [it didn't change routes a single time]. I tried my best not to appear nervous, but boy, was I!

Then the time came to load our train. I was sitting next to Anthony. Emily and her dad were in front of us. Now, like all good roller coasters, you start off painfully slow and up a long, steep, practically touching the clouds, mountain of a hill [I was 8...give me a break]. On my way up, I realized something quite unfortunate.

I didn't want to go on the Scream Machine.

And I told Anthony that. And he laughed and said, "Too late!"

Fear. Terror. And in general just feeling like I just made the worst decision.

Click. Click. Click. Click. Click.

And then we reached the top, and I knew this was it. I was about to come down from the clouds and race to my death next to my brother.

I screamed! LOUD! We did in fact race to the bottom of that hill, and we shot right back up for another one. More screaming. And we plummeted again.

After the second one, all of the rest of the hills were nothing compared to the first doozies. And the next thing you knew, I was laughing so hard. This "terror" called the Scream Machine just became the most fun part of my day. The ride ended all too quickly, and before I knew it, I was telling my parents all about it. How awesome it was. Ya, my brother quickly told them that I wanted to get off about 5 seconds into it. But then I told them how much I loved it. And since then, I've loved roller coasters. I love the thrill of them. I love laughing non-stop while on them. I love the ones that force tears out of my eyes because we're going so fast. I just love roller coasters.

And I pray this is a perfect analogy of what I'm about to experience.

I have the same feeling in the pit of my stomach and the same pounding of my heart. But now I'm waiting/scrambling to leave for this cross country move. The goodbyes have started, but the worst ones have yet to come. Time is going so fast, yet I've been saying for a year that I was going to move to Seattle. And now I'm just days away from loading my car.

Once again, my brother will be next to me. I predict a painfully slow beginning to our 40 hour drive across the US. And I imagine there will be a part of me that will look at him somewhere along the way and want to say, "I changed my mind. I don't want to do this!" His response would be quite similar to what it was that day as I sat on the Scream Machine.

I fear that first sudden drop. The one where I plunge to my death. But I knowingly smile. Because the ride keeps going. This next adventure will be a thrill. There will be drops. Some unexpected to me. But God isn't surprised by any turns, twists, or drops this girl takes. And I hope this marks something in my life. Taking the risk of riding the roller coaster turned out to be a really great one. I believe that taking this risk will also prove to be a really great one. That I'll be eagerly telling my parents about the ride I've taken and the ways I realized my fears were silly.

So, I put my hands up like I'm on a roller coaster. But mostly because I'm in a place of surrender before the Lord. He is the one going before me and working each part of this journey out. I could not have orchestrated the events that have occurred in the past week. And that's comforting.

I will enjoy the ride.

Just Keep Saying It

There are times when I find myself overwhelmed with the consequences of my decision to move. I almost constantly have thoughts, questions, concerns, etc running through my mind regarding the transition ahead. What's the bare minimum of money I need to make? Do I really need to eat everyday? What city is going to be the best fit for me? Is it a bad idea to live by myself? How uncomfortable will it be to find a church? Is this about to be one of those markers in my life that make me shake my head in regret? And they just keep going.

What's been truly a gift is the verse that's been "stuck" in my head for almost a week.

"My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music." Psalm 57:7

I'll find myself saying this over and over in my head, and I'm sometimes saying it out loud: My heart is steadfast, O God, my heart is steadfast. Declaring it: My heart IS steadfast, O God, my heart IS steadfast.

My heart is unwavering, firm, and unchanging, O God. This move scares me. This move seems highly illogical. But I choose a heart that is unwavering, firm, and unchanging. Because my God is God. And I find rest in that truth.

So, I decided that I needed to start singing and making music! :) Those who know me, know that I sing. A lot. I'm not a talented singer, but that's never really stopped me from singing really loud and really often. So in the moments when my heart is not feeling so steadfast, I sing praises to my King. And in the moments when my heart really is steadfast, I still sing praises to my King.

I'll keep speaking this over my life. I'll keep singing praises. The louder the better.

Seasons Change

Back on May 15th when I switched my blog over, I told myself, "I'm going to commit to taking time this summer to write about what I'm experiencing." Ha. I should have known that was NOT going to happen. My summers with FCC provide barely any time to sleep, much less time to process my experiences. And now here I sit, wishing that I could have held true to my unrealistic commitment. Because after 9 weeks of camp, it all stars to blur.

The large majority of my life from January-May was spent creating the summer camp program. And then before I knew it, training week was right in front of me, and I was responsible for training our 75 instructors and releasing/pushing/launching them into camp life and ministry all at the same time. The 9 weeks that followed could potentially change their lives. I could only hope that it would.

And now, after 5 summers of doing this, I'm once again struggling to find my way back into normal life. Because for the past 2 months, I've had a pretty structured schedule, with assigned clothes to wear, designated meal times, and some of my favorite people surrounding me all. the. time. I'm left floundering, longing for the familiar to come back. I had a fraction of this feeling once training week was over. My job as the program director was complete. And I was lost.

But that doesn't even begin to compare to how I feel now. There were moments this summer when I wanted, borderline needed, to freeze time. I can remember the first camp when I got to witness Ambush happen in real life- the fruit of hours, days, months of planning. I remember a moment when the staff was just goofing off with the campers doing a fun chant, and my heart was so satisfied. And I wanted the moment frozen in time. A small group of us went to Disneyland, and I remember wishing the sun would just get stuck right where it was around 7 pm. Or the nights of worship under the stars, the van rides when we were packed in like sardines, the laughter that caused a raspy cough to come out- all of it. I wanted time to just freeze. I wanted every ounce of it to be soaked up.

With each passing week, the days went faster; I'm confident the nights were shorter. I would be begging God to please slow down the process. When week 8 was upon me, a minor panic struck me. Because, in theory, I'm leaving this FCC camp world for good. I finished my final camp last Friday. And right now, I can't handle that harsh reality. Yet something within me says it's time to pass the baton- for someone else to take ownership of this awesome ministry and make it better. But my heart is so sad. Tears find my cheeks pretty quick.

I don't know how to pray right now. I'm desperately asking the Lord to allow the memories from this summer to have a permanent place in my heart. Asking Him to raise some people up to lead the next group of instructors.

I find this transition to be especially painful because I'm leaving an amazing community and fellowship of believers and moving on to the unknown. As I prepare to move across the country, I have to force myself to not look back at what was but instead to trust the Lord with what's coming. I'm definitely treasuring what was, but I struggle to not tremble in fear at what is to come. The song in my heart right now is this:

"And I'll stand with arms high and heart abandoned in awe of the One who gave it all. And I'll stand my soul, Lord, to You surrendered. All I am is Yours."

My arms are high. My heart abandoned.

I'm Yours for the taking.