Beautiful Collision

I don't know what I'll be doing next year. 

• I might teach another year of sixth grade math at Chavez. 
• I might go to the University of Maryland or Catholic for a year to earn my MSW. 
• I might move back to Georgia to teach secondary math, or work at World Relief with refugees in east Atlanta, or go to Georgia State or UGA for my MSW.
• Or, maybe, I'll move to the Black Sea region of Turkey.

My heart aches for the people of the Black Sea region in northeast Turkey.  I think about Sumer and Mustafa and Memit often.  I want to know how to pray for them so that my heart will match the Lord's heart for this people.  In my dreams I envision a beautiful collision of the workers of the harvest serving and loving boldly in the name of Jesus, and the Lord answering His people's prayers for the nations.

I am a million things lately.

• I am a joyful girl who is in this time truly happy. "My smiles are genuine and my laughter is true." 
• But I am tired a lot because I am busy always - and so I try not to be worried, exhausted, and stressed. 
• At school, my mind rushes every which way for the children need so many things, and it is my job to serve them with structure, consistency, and love.  I teach them math, but I also teach them about life and [I try] to guide them towards making good choices and striving for what really matters in life. Sometimes I just pass out Kleenex because it's cold and flu season, and I supervise detention and issue demerits, and answer questions like, "How you call this?" (You call this "celery").  Other times, I give hugs and assure the children that I will be there when they come back tomorrow morning; the same Ms. Moore will be there ready to welcome them and start their day. 

• My desire is to serve spiritually through intercessory prayer, and through daily missional living.  Rather than scheduling acts of service or sliding into volunteer slots, I want service to be such an integral part of who I am that I am constantly putting brothers and sisters before me.  I want to be part of a Church body that seeks the "one thing" - to know the Lord intimately.  (Ps. 27:4).  I want to be still and rest and get to know Jesus better.  But - sometimes I am overwhelmed with all the peoples, all the families, all the individuals, all the everything everywhere that needs prayer... but I must remember, Jesus is our High Priest; He is the ultimate Intercessor.  I am so glad He is faithful.

• I pray for my family.  I pray for their hearts to be continuously transformed and humbled and grown in their nearness to our Father; I pray for the Holy Spirit to come wash over them like the rushing wind.

Please, listen to Jennifer Knapp's "Faithful to Me"

Drive All Night

"Focus in every word, change my path, 
Maybe I could leave a mark,
Try and prove the poets wrong
There must be time, 
Maybe we could be the song to march us on
~
I ain't lookin for a free ride home, back to the middle,
I need a new locale, I need a girl that calls me baby, I need to know if she can save me.
~
I need somewhere I can drive all night, out into the darkness,
Follow the headlights down, I need to know where they can take me,
I've gottta know if they can save me."
- [Drive All Night, NeedtoBreathe]

"I Will Wait"

Amanda, this is for you.
I love this.
I am inspired by it.
I pray the message over you.
It has inspired many of my friends.
Thank you!

Empanadas

I went to Target to get folders for my students earlier today, and I stopped at Julia's Empanadas for some dinner before I drove home.  I bought two empanadas - one with turkey and one with spinach.  On my walk back to the car, I ate the one with the turkey.  My thought was to save the one with the spinach for later tonight.  At a stop light near Target, I saw a woman stumbling along the side walk, carrying a grocery cart full of things.  Things like blankets, clothes, miscellaneous items, cartons, jugs, trinkets, etc.  When her eyes met mine, I decided to roll down the window and see what she had to offer - two blue Bic pens for $3.  Rather than shuffle through my purse for a few bucks, I decided that I this woman was probably in greater need of my empanada than I was, so I offered her the other half of my dinner.  The woman mumbled something in Spanish, and then said, "I don't need no shit food," and walked away.

?

Ok, then. I guess I made the right decision in choosing not to give her money. If she doesn't need the money for food, she probably 'needs' it for something less essential.

Besides, I happen to think those empanadas are quite tasty. ;-)

"For the Sake of the Call"

Recently the days have been very long. [Too long.]  But now, now I stop and just listen and sing and pray.  Worship is so good.  I have such few words, but they are enough.
-
(Listening to "For the Sake of the Call" by Steven Curtis Chapman on the Re-creation CD).

Sirens

I drove home yesterday to a police blockade 2 blocks from my house, so I had to take a detour to get home.  As I sit at the kitchen table now, creating materials for the first instructional week of school, I hear glaring, piercing sirens flying towards some emergency not too far away.  Unsettling.  
As I sit at my kitchen table and peer out the window, I also see children playing and laughing and the neighbors mowing/trimming their "yard," planting flowers, etc.  Perhaps I need only look for the children and the flowers and everything will be alright.

I found this flower on my walk back from the Fort Totten metro a few weeks ago. 

Given 20 sheets of paper, a roll of tape, and a ruler, construct the sturdiest structure you can within 30 minutes. 

More Bethany Dillon

...because I love her songs.
Get Up and Walk.

Calm Before the Storm

(This is how I feel.)

Radical, and Growing Up

I went to the outlet mall today to get a couple teacher outfits for school.  I hadn't ventured to the Potomac Mills outlet mall until today, and I found the experience less than thrilling, though not entirely irksome.  The 30-mile drive was pleasant enough; I finished listening to David Platt's Radical on CD, which proved to be the most ironic way to prepare for a shopping trip.  He encourages American Christians to reclaim their faith from the entrapment of the American Dream, and opens up for his readers (or listeners) a world of anti-materialism, love for the poor, and radical abandonment to Jesus.  I was inspired, again, by his words and may very well take on his year-long challenge of "radical faith" that involves reading through the entire Bible, praying for every nation of the world, going on a mission trip, giving sacrificially, and engrossing oneself in a community of believers.  However, because Radical was not my first go at a criticism of the American "capital C" church, I didn't feel quite as guilty (read: condemned) as I did when I read the first several books of these sorts.  I have known intimately the self-hatred that accompanies the awakening to one's possession of excess, and since that time Jesus has been teaching me about sacrifice, service, the poor, and grace.  Anyhow, to be charged with living simply, abandoning one's attachment to stuff, giving sacrificially, and preaching the Gospel even at the risk of losing your life while on your way to purposefully spend money on clothes that could otherwise be spent on feeding the hungry and serving the poor was ironic if not satirical.

The mall was crowded.  Too crowded.  [I remembered why I don't venture to malls save one or two times per year, usually around the holidays as an outing to see the lighted Christmas trees.]  What happened between the time when I was 12, 13, and 14 and couldn't wait for a chance to be dropped off at the mall just to window-shop, eat Chick-fil-A, and hope to meet older, cute boys, and now, when I dread the shopping Mecca?  Where did the time go?  Upon arrival, I wandered into American Eagle to find a pair of jeans.  I saw teenage girls with their moms and their friends perusing the store for the latest line, and smiled to watch the handful of teenage boys being dragged along by their moms to update and improve their wardrobe in honor of back-to-school season.  I found my pair of jeans relatively quickly; AE is one of the few stores that has my size in Long, but I got out about as quickly as I came in.  On my way towards H&M, where I did eventually find a couple teacher outfits to make for a great first couple days of school, I was drawn not to Forever 21, Abercrombie, Bebe, Express, Journeys, or even Nike, but rather my attention swayed to Kirkland's.  Ha!  Kirkland's is a home & wall decor, decorative accessories and furnishings store.  My, how times have changed!  When did I grow up?  When did I begin to take pleasure in learning to decorate my home (even if it is a rented row-house that I share with 3 other girls)?  When did I become far more interested in spice bags and wall art for my kitchen that says "Good Friends, Good Times, Good Wine" than in worrying about whether I'd have to get the Medium blouse instead of the Small blouse?  I don't know when it happened, but today I laughed a knowing, proud smile when I realized I was drawn to the stores I used to call "mom stores" instead of the glitz and glam of girlhood shopping.

By the way, Kirkland's has Fall items out.  That must mean it's almost time for college football season!

I did it.

I found it.  Tonight, I found the discipline I wrote about in the 7/27 thought bubble.

Today was a rough day for a few reasons, but it ended well with a great prayer group meeting as we prayed for the church's mission teams heading out all around the world in the next few weeks.  I still needed to think through a few things when it was over, however, so I decided to go for a run around / through the National Mall before I got home.  I parked on Constitution and 14th, got out in the dark, and just ran.  (And ran).  [And ran.]  I ran up and down the length of the Mall, up the steps towards Lincoln, through the Vietnam Memorial, around the Washington Monument, and more.

It felt so good to run.

Thanks, God.

Remind Me

Once upon a time, I had the mental and physical discipline to push through heat, humidity, tiredness, moderate pain, and that uncomfortable feeling that arises the moment you cross the threshold from working out, playing, and running recreationally to doing so competitively.  I have distinct memories of waking up before the sun was up to hit a bucket of serves or to run sprints up the big hill in my neighborhood.  When I was 12 or 13, I came across the quote,  "A champion is someone who is bent over, drenched in sweat, at the point of exhaustion, when no one else is watching."  That statement resonated with me and pushed me through hundreds of practices, trainings, and matches.  I wanted to be a champion.

Fast-forward 11 years, and I am now teaching 12 year old children how to do math.  I was trained on the techniques in a book called Teach Like a Champion, (how fitting!), but I still miss the drive towards elite physical fitness of my younger years.  When I go out for a run now, I just jog leisurely for however long I please.  This style of running has suited me well for the past 2-3 years because it has kept me in shape, allowed me to do a handful of half-marathons, and taught me to enjoy the sport.  (Running used to be punishment, so I used to hate it!)  I know I'll never place in a race, and I don't need to be able to run 5-minute (or 6-minute, or 7-minute) miles.  So, recreational running is fine for me.  But, I do need  to have (yearn for?) the discipline to push hard to make a 30-minute run turn into a 90-minute run, or to up the pace when the occasion calls for it, or to simply get out there on a particularly hot, humid day.  Lately, that discipline has been absent from within: I have just run, or jogged or walked, until I felt like stopping, and when I have tried to push myself, something inside just says, "Nah..." and I mosey on home.

There are the rare days that I go to a field to run sprints just because I can, or perhaps because I am trying to resurrect that mental and physical discipline to push past the side cramps, heat, slow pace, frustration, confusion, stress, and fear.  Those days are the best running days.  It is on these days few and far between that when I feel 'like a champion' again.  It is liberation birthed of discipline that follows exhaustion.

I want to run this hard again. 
Remind me.

Get Up and Walk

"I have got no one to blame
Except if that someone's me
I washed my hands, but just the same
My eyes confess for me
I come in filthy rags
You know I'm guilty

I wake up almost every night
Saying Your name
What I would give to walk in the light
But what I hide has made me lame
My face down on the ground
I wait to hear the healing sound

You break through my deafness
Swing open the curtain
And I find the courage to get up and walk
I forget my weakness
For You've answered my loneliness
And through the mud on my eyes
I can see my Hope has come

You'll have to show me where to go
It's been so long since I've used my feet
I got up today a cripple
And now I'm dancing
So let the power of Your move
Not stop with what I can see

I couldn't walk
I couldn't sing
I couldn't love until You found me"


- Bethany Dillon, "Get Up and Walk"

They taste like squares.

As a follow up to this post just beneath this one about the family next door -

I went to play tennis with three of the kiddos this morning.  We went to the neighborhood park at the local elementary school across the block from our street.  I think all four of us had such a great time playing around, running around, joking around, and getting super HOT at 11:00am and 97 degrees.  I taught them how to properly hold the racket, how to entertain themselves for hours against the hitting wall, and how to play mini tennis using the cracks in the side walk as boundaries.  Later, I watched them as they slid down the railings along the steps with 'No hands! Woohoo!' and raced them in a couple relay races.  We also talked about our favorite foods and favorite sports.  The twins like soccer best, and Nande likes field hockey.  (One of my roommates who lived here last year, too, played field hockey for Princeton and I think she has had a great influence on them.)  Mwari's favorite food is ice cream; Ngola's favorite food is pizza; Nande likes quesadillas, but Mwari thinks, "Ew. They taste like squares."

(What do squares taste like?)

-

• The elementary school is closed because there was a fire five years ago.  The rust and decay still abound.
• There are puddles of glass from broken bottles everywhere. (My mama instinct was very over-protective of the kids in their sandals and crocs playing and running in/around the glass. They said, "Mama Kelley, we are fine. We know how to play.")  
• I saw a couple dime bags on the field that we raced on. 
• Here's the neat thing about all this: the kids are still kids, and they're outside playing.  On most of these hot summer days, most kids would be inside playing their Wii. These kids play video games, too, but they are happy to entertain themselves for hours at a time hitting a ball against a wall and chasing each other around a field, even if it does have glass.  They are happy kids. 

Next Door

There is a Rastafarian family of 8, six children all under the age of 12.  I am PUMPED to get to know them and serve them and love them and learn from them this year.


The 7 year old girl, Nande, plays tennis. Yes!


I met the father, 7 y/o daughter, and 4 y/o son today. Nande wrote the names of all the kids on our steps leading up to the front porch.


2011-2012 in 5112, "let's dance."

One Thing

"When we no longer seek God for His blessings, we have time to seek Him for Himself."
- Oswald Chambers,  The Moral Foundations of Life, 728 L


Today, I want to seek God so that I can be with God.  I want to know Him more - His character, His heart, and His desires. I want my prayers to match the intercessory prayers of Jesus, and to be burdened for the things that He is burdened for.  Today, I seek 'one thing.' 


Psalm 27:4
"One thing I ask of the LORD, this is what I seek: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to seek him in his temple."