You're right, teaching isn't a real job...

I get it. It's summertime and all you're seeing on Facebook or Instagram are teachers taking their families to the lake or the beach for days at a time in the middle of the week. You're seeing teachers in their shorts and flip flops going out to lunch with friends. You're seeing all of the teachers that you know walk around with suntans from spending so much time not working. You can't help but think, "I should have been a teacher. They get paid all summer and they don't even have to work. I bet she doesn't even know what it's like to have a real job." I know you're thinking it. Some people even say it. And you know what? You're right. Teaching isn't a 'real' job.

It would be a grosse understatement to call what teachers do every day a 'job.' What we do is so much more than a job.

It's so much more than a career. 

Teaching is a calling. It's a gift. 

There is no way to 'turn it off.' Don't believe me? Spend a few minutes in the company of a couple of teachers; our conversations will turn to bulletin boards and interactive notebooks so fast that your head will spin. While our family and friends think we're relaxing on the beach we're really surreptitiously pinning ideas for Word Walls and Agenda Boards. We work weeks into the summer, and we mentally and physically start back to work weeks before we're actually required to do so. 

We spend hundreds of our own hard earned dollars to get our classrooms ready for the next school year. And, contrary to popular belief, getting paid through summer and getting paid for summer are two totally different things. We're only paid for the days that we're required to be at school, so all of those hours spent working on our classrooms and reworking the curriculum during the summer are unpaid hours. You won't find many 'real jobs' where employees willingly work without compensation. 

We spend late summer nights painting foam board for our new Word Wall idea. 

We use our 'free time' to film video lessons for our new flipped classroom. 

We stay up late at night trying to think of new and inventive ways to get students to engage with vocabulary. 

We spend hours in prayer for the students we had last school year and the students we will have next school year. 

And, yes, we do use plenty of days in the middle of all this work to relax with family and friends at the beach. We do take the opportunity to go out to lunch with friends. We do get that suntan when it's finally possible. And do you know why? 

Because we deserve it. 

There I said it. We deserve it. 

I'm not going to take the high road and selflessly proclaim how we teachers love nothing more than to spend our days fueling little fires of knowledge. 

I'm going to tell you that teaching is hard. 

I'm going to tell you that many of us couldn't possibly handle it, physically, emotionally, or mentally, without our 'summers off.' 

I'm going to tell you that most people wouldn't do it for a week before they'd throw in the towel and beg to have their 'real job' back. 

So, go ahead and tell me that teaching isn't a real job. I'll agree with you 100%. 

Teaching isn't a real job.

It's so much more.

1 Peter 4:10

Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God's grace in its various forms.

The poorly equipped disciple

I never thought this blog would end up receiving the number of readers that it has, and I am incredibly grateful and humbled each time I check my blog traffic. I'm a math teacher, not a writer, but you guys are able to look past my lackluster composition and read my messages anyway. When I started this blog I really just wanted to see what all the fuss was about, but as I continued to post I started realizing the ways I could use it as a tool of discipleship. As many of my readers probably know, I recently rededicated myself and my life to the glory of God. If you look at my blog posts in chronological order, you can actually see me grow as a writer and a Christian. 

At first I thought that praying for my blog was a silly, selfish thing to do, but gradually I began to pray over my words as I wrote them. I started to understand that there is nothing that you shouldn't lay at Jesus' feet in prayer, so I started praying wholeheartedly for guidance, assurance, and direction. For my posts to be filled with the Holy Spirit. For my words to bring glory to God. And for my message to reach people who otherwise may not ever hear the gospel. I have so much growing left to do, but I'm excited about how far this blog has already come. 

I do get discouraged though. The other day I started thinking about what a poorly equipped disciple I truly am. I don't go to church like a should. I'm not in church every time the doors open. I'm not even in church every Sunday morning. I only have an average knowledge of the Bible, and I can't pray aloud without getting tongue tied or drawing a blank and going silent. If I were to debate with an atheist who knows more about the Gospel than me, would I be able to stand my ground? If I were to ask someone whether they knew Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior and they replied with a 'no, will you pray with me?', would I be able to get the prayer out? 

I don't know.

What I do know is that these seventy-two of Jesus's disciples were sent out "like lambs among wolves." That sounds hopeless, right? Think about it, a lamb up against a wolf. So these disciples were also poorly equipped. But, they went out anyway and you know what? They came back with joy! They were joyful when they came back explaining that even the demons submit in Jesus's name. Whenever I think about how much more I need to mature as a Christian, I think about this verse:

Luke 10:3

Go! I am sending you out like lambs among wolves.

And I know that as I will be joyful as long as I am working in Jesus's name. 

I do understand that I still need to take steps to better equip myself as a disciple, so I am setting goals to keep maturing as a Christian. I want to read the Bible in its entirety. I want to begin attending a discipleship training class regularly. I want to surround myself with like-minded Christians who will help me to mature. There are plenty more, but I'd hate to bore you with the laundry list of ways that I need to better myself.

If you read this blog, will you also pray for it? Will you pray for me as I embark on this long path of growth?

How equipped do you feel when you are presented with opportunities to be a witness for Christ? What are your goals to keeping growing as a Christian?

Are we in the fire?

I'm a firm believer that many times when we think Satan has his hands on some bad situation that is happening around us that it's actually God testing our resolve. There's an analogy that my aunt taught me when I was young that compares God to a Silversmith. I won't go into detail but the gist is this: Sometimes God puts you in the fire to make you shine brighter. I know I don't have to bring up any current events that might be testing Christians all over this country, and I'm not writing this to start a debate. I just want to ask you, are we in the fire? Are we being tested? Is God holding us in the fire to see how bright we can shine for him? 

He's a little encouragement for you: a Silversmith holds the silver in the fire long enough to bring out the shine and no longer...and he never takes his eyes off of it, not even for a moment. 

Shine bright!

Zechariah 13:9

This third I will put into the fire; I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name and I will answer them; I will say, 'They are my people,' and they will say, 'The Lord is our God. ' ”

The day I realized I wasn't really a Christian

As a child, I went to church semi-regularly with my family. I remember going to Sunday school and VBS. I remember struggling to memorize my Bible verses and reciting my lines for the Christmas Play (Happy Birthday Jesus!). I asked Jesus to come into my heart and save me. I proudly sat through my Confirmation classes, and I would always tell people in troubled times that I would pray for them. The memories that I made with my friends in the youth group at church are some of my favorite memories. When it came time to get married, I was adamant that we would marry in a church. I prayed. I took Communion. I read my Bible. I believed in God, and I believed that Jesus was my Lord and Savior. But I wasn't a Christian, or maybe I should say I wasn't a Christian in the ways that God had called me to be. I was just blindly going through the motions, and I was doing a poor job of it. 

I would watch any show or movie that I wanted regardless of the content. I would listen to any song that I wanted regardless of the lyrics. When I was presented with a situation that tested my resolve, I usually bowed out and hid behind 'do not judge lest ye be judged.' I do not like confrontation, so I would tend to sin by silence and ignore whatever sinful activities were around me. Sometimes I would even participate. When I was confronted with a differing world view than my own, I would argue but it was always for the wrong reasons. I argued my point with the objective of winning the argument rather than using my words to bring glory to God. I was prideful, conceited, quick to anger, and hypocritical.

When I met an acquaintance of my husband's, one of the first things that I did was invite him to go to church with us. Good, dutiful Christian behavior, right?! He declined and began arguing his point about how all he's ever seen in church are pews full of hypocrites. People who smile at you while you're at church but won't speak to you at the grocery store. So, what did I do? I showed him just how hypocritical Christians can be by angrily arguing my point and nearly refusing to speak to him afterwards. For years afterwards. I was such a poor witness it's appalling that I haven't seen it before now.

Yes, I read my Bible. Sort of. I'd read it in the way that you read a fictional storybook instead of like the pure truth that it is. I read it out of duty, but I should have been reading it for strength, guidance, and wisdom. I used scripture in the way that you choose foods off of a buffet; I took the parts I liked and left the parts I didn't. Yes, I prayed. Sort of. I'd pray in the same way that a child asks Santa for toys at Christmas instead of the thankful worship I should have been offering up to God every day. I prayed sporadically at best and most times it was to ask for something, like I had any reason to believe that I should deserve anything. I was not really a Christian. A Christian is the type of person like James and John who would drop everything, including family, to follow Christ just as they were called to do. A Christian is a person like Peter who stepped out of a boat onto crashing waves because Jesus called him. A true Christian would model themselves after Christ, not other Christians. 

Just a few months ago I had my spiritual eyes opened to the mediocre way that I was living. I had always known the right way to live, it is just that I never actually accepted the fact that I was living the wrong way. After all, I was a good Christian relative to many of the others around me. I'm not entirely sure when the revelation happened, but it has been growing more and more evident each and every day. I think I began to see myself more critically when J was born. I knew that I wanted him to grow up in a good, Christian home, and I began to notice the things that weren't very Christ-like of me. I made a conscious decision 'walk the walk' everyday. 

My personal changes started in my classroom. My first few years of teaching were spent treating the difficult students like difficult students and the good students like good students. Those old ways went out the window. I made an effort to see my students as people rather than as empty buckets that I was just supposed to pour knowledge into. Your perspective changes when you learn that you have a cutter, a suicidal student, a student who rarely gets a meal at home, a victim of molestation, and a few foster children in your classroom everyday. I started trying to nurture them as best I could (and as far as I am allowed).

Then I noticed that my habits were in need of an overhaul. I began reading my Bible for guidance and reassurance. I began praying continually, selflessly, and thankfully. And when I was tested with a person who claimed that all Christians are hypocrites, I did my best to show him that there is at least one exception. That acquaintance of my husband's, I began treating him differently as well. Rather than being an arrogant, pretentious example of a Christian, I began trying to be a loving example of the Body of Christ with open arms and healing hands. 

Am I perfect? Absolutely not! I fail each and every day. But, I'm faithful enough to get up and try again tomorrow. I'm still growing, and I have a very long way to go. I'm vastly different than I was a year ago, and I'm hopeful that I keep changing for the better. 

Acts 20:24

 However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me---the task of testifying to the good news of God's grace.

No Bruce, I will not call you Caitlyn.

I'm sure we've all seen the picture of Bruce Jenner on the cover of Vanity Fair laying across a bed dressed as a woman asking the world to call him Caitlyn. Not only is he dressed as a woman, he has the physique of a woman. If you didn't know any better, you would think he was a woman...and a pretty woman at that. I'm also sure that we have all formulated our own opinions on Bruce and his new identity, but I just want to take a second to remind everyone that it's not our job to judge him. No, you see, God ordained Jesus to be the judge. So while we sit around and criticize him, I would like to remind us all that we too are sinners. Our sins are just not as visible. 

I was scrolling through Facebook when I noticed status after status of Christians outwardly judging this man for his choices. Now I'm sure we all read the same Bible, so tell me where it is written that our job as Christians is to decide who does and does not deserve God's grace. I'm actually certain that Jesus told us in his own words, "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." Those words are written in red, people. I am not trying to come off as holier than though and the last thing I want to do here is seem argumentative, but it seems to me that some of my fellow Christians need to remember the Grace saved them from themselves before they stand on their Facebook soapbox and spew judgement onto others.

Maybe what Bruce Jenner really needs is for Christians to show him a little grace. We do not know what kind of hurtles he has had to cross in his life. We think we do because he has been in the public eye for so long, but we only see a portion of what his life is like. He has been misguided and damaged and the only thing that we are going to accomplish with judgement and criticism is to push him further and further away.

Recently God has opened my eyes to the way some Christians are pushing people away from Christianity. It continues to amaze me how God works; this time he used a student. I was speaking with a student on his last day of school and he explained to me that he is no longer a Christian. Just out of the blue like that. Keep in mind that I have spoken to this student every day of the past school year, and this boy all of a sudden decides to tell me this. I never pry, but I am sure you can understand that I get concerned when I learn that one of my students doesn't know Jesus Christ as his/her Lord and Savior. So, I gently asked why he had such a change of heart. He explained that the biggest reason that he isn't a Christian is the way he has been treated by Christians. Do you see how ludicrous that is? Christians, whose job it is to lead people to Christ, are pushing people away. It is almost enough to bring me to tears. So, I'm using my blog as a platform to shout to other Christians, "Stop pushing other sinners away from Christ!" 

Don't get me wrong, I don't agree with Bruce Jenner's choice to become a woman. I don't think it's his choice to make, and I know that God does not make mistakes. I don't agree with homosexuality, same-sex marriage, or sex changes, but that's not the point. The point is that no one, regardless of life choices, should be treated differently than anyone else. I try not to treat the people that I don't agree with any differently than I would the most right-wing, bible-thumping, pew-jumping, Child of God. Sinners come in all shapes and sizes. Just because we can see the sins of some people more clearly than others does not mean that those people don't deserve the same grace. 

Bruce has a mother, and most of my readers are mothers. Imagine that your son became misguided and lost. Imagine he made bad choices and started going down the wrong road. Wouldn't you want someone to show him grace? Wouldn't you want someone to lead him down the path of righteousness? Of course you would. The last thing you would want would be for people to spew judgement on him for the world to see or for Christians to decide that he was no longer worthy of salvation. 

I think our job as Christians in this ever-changing world is to stand firm and continue our role as the Body of Christ with open arms, healing hands, and loving hearts. So no, Bruce, we will not call you Caitlyn, but we will call you Brother and we will pray that one day we will call you Redeemed. 

Matthew 7:1-2

Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

Thank you to my first friends.

I heard her say it as I was perched on the edge of her sofa trying to keep J from breaking one of her little cute knick-knacks. She was explaining to her friend that she had people over at her house and 'my husband's friend's wife' was her description of me. My husband's friend's wife. She meant absolutely nothing by it. I'm sure that it came out of her mouth without a second thought. But, that's when I realized that I was never going to be more than just 'my husband's friend's wife' to many of my new 'friends.' 

Let me back up. I was blessed to grow up with a tight knit group of friends. Real friends. We went to kindergarten together. We participated in pageants together and cheered harder than anyone when one of us won. Space camp wasn't ready for us when we went in the sixth grade, and Auburn University certainly wasn't ready when we toured it in high school. Emergency shower anyone? We'd spend whole weekends sleeping over at each other's houses. We rode with each other in our first cars and experienced that first taste of freedom together. We cried as we hugged each other after graduation not knowing that we'd experience many more life experiences with these friends right by our sides or at least on the receiving end of our Snaps. These friends have been there from first kisses to first babies. They know my most embarrassing secrets, and they love me anyway. These are friends are something special. My first friends. 

I moved closer to my husband's hometown when we got married, and now there is at least a forty minute drive between me and my closest friends. Not ideal, but I just always figured that is make new friends closer to my new home. No big deal, right? Wrong. Making real friends as an adult takes effort. I'm not saying that I haven't made friends. I have actually come to know some pretty amazing women in my new town, but these new friendships are not like the uncomplicated friendships you forge as a child. There's judgement and criticizism in new friendships. You have to work harder to be accepted into new social circles. You don't know the same people they know. You can't participate in the same walks down memory lane as they can. It's just harder. 

Even some work friends aren't like real friends. I'm sure I've been described as 'this girl I work with' by more than a few of them. I know I've described a few of them that way, anyway. I do have true friends that I happen to also work with, and, by the way, those workplace friendships are irreplaceable too. But even these are much more difficult to build and way too easy to lose. As soon as someone changes jobs that friendship begins to fade. 

But those first friends, they're always there. You might not speak to them for six months but you pick up the conversation like no time has passed as soon as your phone rings. So, thank you first friends. You are irreplaceable, and I can't imagine my life without you.

Proverbs 18:24

Friends come and go, but a true friend sticks by you like family.

I hate Pinterest

We just recently celebrated our little boy's first birthday. Because he is our only child and this was his very first birthday, I wanted to make it extra special. I started planning this party months and months in advance, and I, of course, used Pinterest as the source of many of my ideas. That was my mistake. Pinterest.

I am, by nature, a very anxious person. I am also, by profession, a perfectionist. These two traits alone are enough to cause heart palpitations when planning your child's first birthday party. Add the extreme pressure that the perfectly polished birthday pins of Pinterest put on us amateur party planners and its a nightmare. As I scrolled through Pinterest to gather inspiration for my little man's 'mustache bash,' I pinned idea after idea that I wanted to use. 

I knew from the beginning that I wanted him to have a 'mustache bash.' My sister got him a little onesie when he was born that had a cute little phrase and a big mustache across the front, and I knew that mustaches would make an adorable party theme. To get an idea of what I was up against, just search 'mustache bash' on Pinterest. Go ahead. Actually wait, don't. You might be compelled to plan a mustache bash of your own, and goodness knows I can't be held responsible for the emotional trauma that it might put you through. 

There were so many adorable cake ideas that I actually made three cakes for his party. Yep, three. Why you ask? The only thing that I can come up with is that I'm a complete lunatic and also a masochist. I hate baking. Actually, loathe is probably a better word. I loathe baking. I'm not very good at it either, so why not bake three cakes for my baby's birthday party?! I baked a giant cupcake for his smash cake, two dozen cupcakes with chocolate mustaches on top, and what might have been the most hideous attempt at a mustache cake ever on the face of this planet. Instead of the three long paragraphs that I had typed out to tell you about how I screwed up royally on the cakes, how about you just take my word for it. The smash cake is below...just check out that terrible chocolate cupcake liner. A prime example of how I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. And then there is the mustache. It was so terribly ugly that I just couldn't even take a picture of it. There was no way I was going to document that disaster. It was just...just bad. Just really bad. It was so bad that no one actually got to see it. I just cut and plated it before the guests started eating.  The cupcakes were awesome though. And cute. It is safe to assume that cupcakes are the only type of baking that anyone should ever trust me with.

Then there are the decorations. There were just so many beautiful (read professional) pictures of adorable mustache banners and cute little menu cards. All hand made. All added to my to do list. My panic attack started somewhere along the paper goods area of Hobby Lobby. As I stood staring at that wall of skittles-colored paper plates, I began doubting whether I could actually pull off a Pin-worthy first birthday party. I knew I wanted mustaches, and I knew I didn't want cookie cutter decorations. That's pretty much all I knew though, and any wife who has ever gone shopping with her husband knows that an indecisive woman shopping with her husband in Hobby Lobby is a nightmare for both parties involved. I'm proud to say that our marriage managed to survive that shopping trip. Anyway, I bought an eclectic bunch of decorations and hoped they'd form a cohesive theme once I put them all up. 

As the sun rose on 'party day' my nerves reached an all time high. I woke up bright and early and started cooking, cleaning, baking (...still 😑), and decorating. My awesome husband took J to out for a birthday breakfast while I tried to get everything together. I wasn't nearly finished when they got back but I kept working. With a little help from our neighbor, my sister, and my cousin we finally got the party 'together'. Because I really didn't know what he final product was going to look like, I wasn't really sure when we were finished, but since it was closing in on party time and everything looked pretty cute, I just made an executive decision that we were finished. 

The party started right on time and J had a blast. Of course, as I've come to realize as a mother, nothing went as I had expected but everything was perfect just the same. We had a blast. The only thing that I wish we hadn't done was serve IBC Root Beer. This was a Pinterest-inspired idea, but I wish someone had mentioned that it would look like all of our party guests were sitting around drinking beer. Yeah, not so great for the family photo album. Just sayin'. 

So, you ask, why is it that you hate Pinterest? I mean, I planned my baby's first birthday using nearly all Pinterest-inspired ideas, and it went great.

Well, I don't actually hate Pinterest. I just hate comparison, and Pinterest raises the bar so stinkin high for everything. As a teacher, I'm a go big or go home kind of girl, and this character trait combined with Pinterest turns party planning into a full time job. I thank God that I got married pre-Pinterest. I would have lost my mind trying to plan a wedding worthy of pinning. Don't get me wrong, Pinterest is an amazing tool. I usually don't ever even start a project without consulting Pinterest first. It's just that I miss the way things were before the bar was raised so high. Our first birthdays might not have had smash cakes, menu cards, or high chair decorations, but we all turned out just fine. Our mothers put their hearts into planning our birthdays, but it wasn't so they could post cute pictures...it was because they wanted us to have sweet memories. I think I need to go back to that.

Galatians1:10

For am I now seeking the approval of man, or of God? Or am I trying to please man? If I were still trying to please man, I would not be a servant of Christ.