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.