Ancora imparo

The Last Night.
Choose a different song. You already know that one. 
Too well. 
Come Thou Fount, okay? 
I hear my heart beat the familiar beat.
Calm settles in.  
Love is here. 

"Ancora imparo."  
- Leonardo Da Vinci (Italian for "I am still learning.")

Little Miss - 
do your best, 
never rest. 
be my guest, I'll make more anytime that it runs out. 
you'll go far, 
hide your scars, 
who you are is so much more than you like to talk about. 
It's alright, it's alright, it's alright. 
It'll be alright again. 
Hold on, hold on, you are loved. 

About you.

Today I feel all of these things: 

I'm a good girl; love my mama.

I love Jesus, and America, too.

I'm a good girl, crazy about Elvis.

Love horses, and my boyfriend, too.

But I never told you;
what I should have said.
No I never told you;
I just held it in.

I see your blue eyes.

The Advent Conspiracy

Watch this:


And then join me as a co-conspirator this advent season to spend less money on gifts and more time with people.  Worship fully and freely.

I taught those kids.

I taught those kids.  They were my babies - my first set of students and the ones for whom I slaved hours and hours and hours each weekend and each night as I began to learn what it means to be a teacher just over two years ago.  Those boys were in my class and I saw them every single day, day in and day out.  I took them on field trips and I called their parents.  I promised to grow them into stronger mathematicians and to guide them towards being better human beings who are kind to one another and who take responsibility for their communities.  We learned about perpendicular lines and we practiced solving word problems and we prepared to take the DC-CAS.  I quietly prayed for them in the mornings.  I gave every fiber of my being to them and their education.
~
Today, they made a choice that will result in expulsion from our school and will leave permanent marks on their legal records, permanent marks on their hearts, and permanent marks on their memories of the early adolescent years.

Streaming tears.

I'm hurting because they made a choice that stacks the odds so much higher in the streets' favor, and I am for these kids.  I am rooting for them to overcome the odds and to make it - to make it to high school, through high school, to college, and through college.  I'm rooting for you, boys, don't you know that?  I loved you as best I could.  Do you know how many people are rooting for you and loving you?

We will still root for you and love you, and some of us will even pray for you, but it will be from afar.  We'll always be here, but it's going to be different.  You're not alone, but we won't be there in the streets...your teachers there will be different.  They may be good, or even great, but they will be different.

I fear the streets will swallow you.  I am afraid that you will look for identity and a sense of belongingness in gangs, drugs, sex, and even violence.  Trust me when I say that you will not find any satisfaction there.  Believe me.  Please believe me.

He was so young, so small, and so innocent two years ago.  What happened?  I am going to miss seeing him around.

Did I do something wrong?  Or maybe there is something I could have done better?  What if I called home more?  What if I started an after-school program geared towards their interests?

When the cop cars pulled up to the school this afternoon, I thought back to the time he accidentally stapled his finger in class and burst out into laughing-tears.  I laughed so hard that I started crying, too.  When I saw the cop's handcuffs, I remembered how he had started to take martial arts classes and we'd all catch him chopping the air on his way back from the bathroom.  It was funny, and innocent, and cute.  It wasn't like drugs and gangs.

The kids are hurting and I'm hurting, too, but I have been convicted to the core in these past few hours as I think about how pale our human love looks in comparison to the unyielding and fierce love of the Father.  If I am hurting this much for them and I am only their teacher - not even their parent or sibling or best friend - how much more deeply and terribly must our Father's heart ache for His children when they make poor choices, when they hurt themselves and one another.  If you know God, then you've been told that He sacrificed His own Son because He loved all of us so much and wanted to be in a right relationship with us.  But do you really get it?  Think of the person who you love most in this world... think about how much you would hurt if that person made a choice that separated him/herself from you, for a little while or permanently.  Maybe you've already experienced this and you know the sting of that pain.

How much more our holy and good and grace-filled God must yearn to see us choose Him over sin.  He whose love is infinitely greater than any love we can give to one another continues to choose us.  God says "yes" to us and God does not run out of grace or second chances.  His cup overflows with mercy.

I pray for the ability to love these kids better, which means, I think, that I will look them in the eye and pray the best for them and forget their wrongs, having kept no record of them.  I will tell them I will be there for them, and that I'm still rooting for them.  Forgive me, Father, for thinking it could have been my effort that could have saved them from the streets.  Have mercy on me, God, for selfishly claiming these kids as my own - they're Yours to save and Yours to love and they have been Yours since the beginning of time.  Show me how to love them, too, and redeem them from the streets.

Fierce

Today, I'm burdened to pray for the women and the girls.  On the streets in Atlanta.  In the clubs in Athens.  On K St in Washington, Arlington, and everywhere.  In the nail salons and massage parlor.  Girls and women, know that there is real justice and true healing.  Know that you are not alone.  I pray for you, girls.  Hang in there.  You've not been forgotten.  There is one who fights fiercely for you.

Mountains

I want to go to the mountains.  Something in me yearns to be outside in the crisp mountain air, away from honking and stop lights and tight schedules and broken windows and graffiti and unfinished, broken down buildings.  What is changing inside me?  I've had a burning heart for urban missions and city life since I was about 15 - almost ten years.  While I still love urban communities and I'd die for my kids at Chavez, lately my heart longs for a simplicity and beauty of more rural areas.  It's surprising to even type those words because I have never felt called to rural life, mountain communities, farmland, etc.  Maybe I just really enjoyed my hikes in the Andes up to Machu Picchu and now I'm feeling nostalgic?  Perhaps I miss the Black Sea and long to be back there with those people, ministering relationally and praying constantly and drinking cai?  Or ... could it be that a new season in a different place is on the horizon for me?  Prayers appreciated :).  All of the pictures below are from my time in Turkey last summer when we were traveling throughout the Black Sea region.  

Beyond mountains there are mountains.

Mehmet

Our group!

The ladies. Miss you, Sumer.

Pray.

Finish What You Start

Finish What You Start

So convicting! Amen y amen.

Pike's Peak and The Incline

Ever since I summited Mt. Kilimanjaro in 2009, I've had the hiking, climbing, camping, and exploration bug.  I'm not yet a multi-day, self-sufficient hiker and camper, but I have begun to learn about the gear, terminology, and stories & personalities of the beloved mountains to conquer and trails to blaze all around the world.  A few weeks ago, on my journey through the Andean Mountains along the Lares Trek to Machu Picchu, I was captivated once more by God' tremendous creation.  Our Creator is magnificent; He has painted breathtaking landscapes with brilliant colors and unimaginable beauty.  Thank you, God, for your creation, and that we are part of it.  We honor You; we worship You. 
~
I first learned of Pike's Peak a few years ago when I started reading Runner's World magazine.  There's a half and full marathon every summer up this massive mountain whose summit peaks at just over 14,000 ft in Colorado.  I don't think I'll ever be able to run a marathon up to that elevation, but I am just itching to go to the mountain, to take it in and push myself physically and mentally once more as I hike to the top.  Check out the pictures below!!  How wonderful!  My tentative goal is to go during mid-April or late June in 2013.  If anyone still reads this blog and loves hiking, e-mail me and we'll go!

Link to information about Pike's Peak: http://www.trailsandopenspaces.org/hiking-pikes-peak.html

I may even be crazy enough to attempt "The Incline," a mile-long and 1/2 mile-high former railroad track in Manitou, CO.  (Very close to Pike's Peak).  Check it out!

The sign shown in this last picture says "Warning, do not enter... no trespassing.  Private property."  Apparently it's technically illegal to climb this 'ladder,' but hundreds or even thousands do it each summer and throughout the year.  The city council is working on opening it up, officially, to the public. 

Running Adventure

Hey friends and family!

Come run with me! I'm going to do the Hat Trick at the Runner's World Running Festival in Bethlehem, PA October 19th - 21st.  Check it out here: http://www.runnersworld.com/rwhalf/.

Life Errands

I'm unashamedly quite proud of all the life tasks I've accomplished since school has let out: 

• Emissions testing; 
• Passed the saftey inspection; 
• New hubcaps; 
• New front brake pads; 
• Plugged the holes from two nails in one of my tires; 
• VA driver's license; 
• VA license plates; 
• VA title; 
• VA registration; 
• Registered to vote in VA; 
• Library card; 
• Mailed mom her birthday present; 
• Ordered checks; 
• Set up a 403(b) plan; 
• Updated my credit and debit cards for international use while in Peru; 
• Went to the doctor (for the first time in almost three years); 
• Cleaned the apartment; 
• Donated a dozen bags of clothes and other items to the shelter; 
• Run, walked, biked, or hiked every day :) 
• Lunch dates with three friends; 
• Got groceries; 

Boom! How's that for catching up on all the things that you can't do when the grasshoppers consume all your time, energy, and love?  I love the grasshoppers, but summer is good. 

First Commute

Jesus gave me the most beautiful sunrise as I crossed the bridge from Arlington to D.C.  My first commute from 'the other side' was a magical one.  Thank you, Lord, for your beautiful creation!

This sunrise isn't what I saw coming into work today.  Rather, it's a sunset I saw in the mountains of Tanzania.  I would have snapped a picture this morning, but I figured I ought not to text/photograph while driving 50 mph.  :-) 

Here Comes the Sun

Today is one of of those days that I find myself so perfectly content.  I'm just smiling...and happy.  Lately I've been listening to the Beatles' Here Comes the Sun on repeat; I have a Pandora station from the song and I play it for the kids each morning when they come in, partially to expose them to a broader repertoire of music than their typical Bruno Mars and Jay Z, and partially because it helps me start my day off well.  Despite the fact that I'm now sitting at my computer typing discussion posts and writing papers for my last grad school class, and working on materials and lesson plans for the last instructional week of school - I am happy.  I am grateful to be in this season of the kind of happy joy that comes so easily.  Thank you, Holy Spirit.  There are some seasons that are very hard, seasons when joy must truly be fought for... but these moments are not that season.  I am grateful today for sunshine, trail running, friendship, jazz, coffee, laughter, dancing, and home cooked meals.
~
This morning, I ran a half-marathon at Algonkian Regional Park and it was muddy, bloody, hard, and so much fun.

Today

Today, the kids were @#$%!ing nuts.
Today, I feel like a complete failure as a teacher.  (How's that for vulnerability?) 
Today, I feel like the kids hate me.
Today, I hate that I yelled at them.
Today, it sucks that they were so, so disrespectful and ridiculous.

There are a lot of days when my job totally rocks; there are many days when I can truly say I love what I do.  ... but ...
Today, my job sucks. (Because the kids were ridiculous and terrible, and because I sucked, too). 

On Faith and Doubt

"Those who believe they believe in God but without passion in the heart, without anguish of mind, without uncertainty, without doubt, and even at times without despair, believe only in the idea of God, and not in God himself."
- Madeleine L'Engle 


"Just as the Christian has his moments when the clamor of this visible and audible world is so persistent and the whisper of the spiritual world so faint that faith and reason can hardly stick to their guns, so, as I well remember, the atheist too has his moments of shuddering misgiving, of an all but irresistible suspicion that old tales may after all be true, that something or someone from outside may at any moment break into his neat, explicable, mechanical universe. Believe in God and you will have to face hours when it seems obvious that this material world is the only reality: disbelieve in Him and you must face hours when this material world seems to shout at you that it is not all. No conviction, religious or irreligious, will, of itself, end once and for all this fifth-columnist of the soul. Only the practice of Faith resulting in the habit of Faith will gradually do that." 

- C.S. Lewis Religion: Reality or Substitute

"Most people are bothered by those passages of Scripture they do not understand, but the passages that bother me are those Ido understand."
-Mark Twain


“You must picture me alone in that room in Magdalen, night after night, feeling, whenever my mind lifted even for a second from my work, the steady, unrelenting approach of Him whom I so earnestly desired not to meet.  That which I greatly feared had at last come upon me.  In the Trinity Term of 1929 I gave in, and admitted that God was God, and knelt and prayed: perhaps, that night, the most dejected and reluctant convert in all England."
-C.S. Lewis Surprised by Joy

I'm an old soul.

Things I like: 

• Jazz music
• Coffee after dinner 
• Reading the real newspaper in the morning
• Sitting on the porch
• Listening to NPR
• Living room and dinner table conversations without iPhones, computers, iPads, or TVs
• Swing dancing
• Grandparents
• Sharing stories
• Tire swings
• Walks
• Modesty
• Knowing my neighbors
• "Yes ma'am" and "Yes sir" 
• Frank Sinatra
• Simplicity

I am an old soul. 

Think. Hard. Questions. God.

I woke up this morning to CNN's homepage with a shining article by Christian author Karen Spear Zacharias entitled, "My Faith: What does God sound like?" Good question, Karen.  What does God sound like?

I found the faith article interesting, if a little weightless, and decided to poke around CNN's faith section a bit.  A few days ago, Becky Perlow wrote a summary about a recent publication in Science magazine about the inverse relationship between analytical thinking and belief in God, called "Analytical Thinking Promotes Religious Disbelief" by Gervais and Norenzayan of the University of British Columbia.  You have to pay to read the full article, but Perlow summarized it here: "Study: Analytical Thinking Can Decrease Religious Belief."

I want to honor the attention the article gives to critical thinking and religious thought together because too often they are seen as exclusivities.  However, I want to offer a few critiques, particularly of the authors' description of religious thought as 'intuitive.'  Really?  It's intuitive to believe without question a poor servant carpenter man rode into town on a donkey and saved the world by raising himself from the dead after being crucified?  Really?  It's natural to think that the first will be last and the last will be first?  It's easy to believe that that special joy that passes through even the most trying of circumstances comes from a life a selflessness and possible/probable danger and uncertainty?  It's intuitive to believe that we possess the power (through the Holy Spirit, which comes with belief and submission to Christ) to heal the sick and the make the lame walk?  Maybe that's easy and natural for some... but it isn't intuitive for me.  My faith is really freaking hard work (perhaps because I secretly and pridefully want to be an intellectual snob, too).  Walking through this life of faith has been an extraordinary intellectually challenging endeavor.

Most of my hard questions start with prayer and some Bible study.  Here are a few:

• What exactly does salvation mean?  Is it the prayer you pray asking Jesus into your heart?  (If yes, then what about Catholics?)  Or is it some period of time later when you've better understood the transformation that happens when you choose to follow Christ and his ways?  
• Can you lose your salvation?
• Why are 'Catholic' and 'Protestant' listed as two separate religions on the demographic information section of most forms?
• Is there an unpardonable sin? 
• Why are some people gay or transgendered?  Is it possible that they were born genetically pre-disposed to be that way, and if so, then what?  Is it wrong/bad to think they should be allowed to get married? 
• Why don't people (including myself) ask these questions in church/ Sunday school class?   
• What about the people in the faraway villages of the interior of Africa (or anywhere else) that haven't heard about Jesus?  
• Is it possible to believe in Intelligent Design and/or evolution, and also in the Omniscient, Omnipotent, Omnipresent God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob?
• Since "accepting Jesus into your heart" and "praying the Salvation prayer" isn't in Scripture, where does that language come from? 
• What does it mean for a Christian to be culturally relevant in the 21st century?  How can we reach our generation without compromising our faith?  
• Does God audibly converse with us today?  If so, how can I hear Him, also?  If not, what do people mean when they say they were talking with God? 
• What about Love Wins?  What about what Rob Bell has to say?  Can any piece of it true? 
• Why does it sometimes feel like a cop-out to say that God is bigger than all of this, and hey-we'll understand-someday-when-we-get-to-heaven? 

~
God is not afraid of hard questions, nor is He offended by them.  Let's ask more hard questions.  
~
At the end of the day, I hold onto the sentiment behind this quote from one of my favorite movies, Rudy:

"Son, in 35 years of religious study, I have only come up with two hard, incontrovertible facts: there is a God, and...I am not Him." - Father Cavanaugh

Dream Job

This could be it:

"Vice President of Aftercare, Kathy Stout-Labauve, shares stories of hope restored to sex trafficking survivors. She explains how IJM social workers begin caring for the young women even before they are rescued, learning their names and preparing to walk beside them as they heal. Learn how IJM is providing hope to trafficking survivors in Cambodia, India and the Philippines."  Click the link to watch.


[ Because No One Should Wait for Justice ]

Old Rag

Greg, Caleb, Megs, and I hiked Old Rag at Shenandoah today. It was a blast, and I'm so glad I let myself go, even though it means I'll need to stay in and stay up tonight to work on the portfolio.  Thank you, Lord, for your beauty and your creation. 

"He looked out of place for this part of the city."

Everyone has been following the Trayvon Martin story, right?  If you haven't, get caught up on it here and here.  (Or, go to cnn.com and it's likely you'll see the latest updates.)  The case of Trayvon Martin and the issues of racial profiling, age discrimination, and gun laws are important to me primarily because of the students I teach - my students can relate to all of this and they have opinions about it.  I love my kiddos and I want to protect them.  But, I also care about this because I care about justice for Trayvon and for his family.  And I care about justice for Zimmerman.  (What does justice for Zimmerman look like?  What about mercy?  Is there room for forgiveness, room for racial reconciliation here?)

The quick version is this: Trayvon Martin was a 17-year-old black teenager from Sanford, Florida.  He was shot and killed by a Latino man, George Zimmerman, who served on the neighborhood watch patrol. One of the controversies surrounding this case is Zimmerman's claim that he shot Trayvon out of self-defense, but in the investigation that followed, Trayvon was found to be unarmed - he was wearing a hoodie and carrying only a bag of skittles and iced tea.  Did Zimmerman feel afraid because Trayvon was a black young man wearing a hoodie and walking around at night, carrying the heavy burden of all the stereotypes that come with being born an African-American male?  I don't know, and honestly, I don't want to explore the details of the case or make a presumption as to what exactly happened.  That's for a jury to decide (on April 10th).  I just pray for the people in that court room, for the families, and for racial reconciliation and peace in our country.

I want to talk instead about something that happened a couple days ago in an affluent neighborhood in Washington, D.C.  I was sitting at a table at a coffee shop in Capitol Hill near Union Station with a friend, just chatting away and enjoying the afternoon.  I happened to glance to my left at some point, and I noticed a young African-American male with a hoodie over his head.  I remember him, I think, because it seemed a little warm outside to be wearing a hoodie.  Perhaps his image stuck in my head just because he just reminded me of the hundreds of images of Trayvon that had been flashed across screens in the past few days.  For a split second, I felt my guard go up, like I was somehow 5% less safe with him walking a few feet from me.  He looked a little out of place for 'this part' of the city.  After that split second, ... "Damn, Kelley. That's exactly what this whole conversation about the Trayvon case is about - you're judging this kid because he's black and you're white and he's a guy and you're a girl and you're afraid because he's got a hoodie on and that looks scary.  Who are you to feel unsafe?  Who are you to judge him and what he's about?"  A wave of self-loathing came crashing down in a matter of seconds.  I thought three years in a social work program (i.e. all my classes were about diversity appreciation and self-awareness and tolerance and empowerment) and another couple years living as a minority in my neighborhood and place of work - I thought that after all that, surely I wouldn't haphazardly judge some random kid who wandered into a coffee shop.  Besides, I don't feel unsafe when I see black or Latino teenagers and young adults walking along the streets of my neighborhood.  Why did I feel a little unsafe in the coffee shop?

Then it happened. The scream. She screamed loudly and I heard a bang. I didn't see it - my chair was facing the wall.  But my friend was facing the windows and the street and he saw it all. It couldn't have been more than a minute after I had racked my brain for an explanation for my judgment towards the kid that he lunged at the woman sitting at a table near the exit of the coffee shop and snatched her laptop and bolted out the door.  The bang was from him slamming his fists down on the table to grab it.  The scream was from her shock-- from her fear and her anger.  I think I stopped breathing for a moment. While my brain was trying to make sense of it all, the coffee shop employee jumped over the counter and sprinted after the hoodied-kid.  From our table, we saw the chase progress up F Streeet (right next to Union Station and the Capitol).  I don't know if the barista actually caught the kid, or if the kid thought it probably wasn't looking too good for him to be getting chased at full speed in this particular area of town and just gave it up. Regardless, the barista walked humbly back in the coffee shop with the woman's laptop not more than 4 minutes later.

The woman tried to catch her breath as she cried rushed, confused, scared tears.
The police arrived 2 minutes later.
The hoodie-kid got away, I think.
The barista was quiet. Humble. And he went back to work.
Trayvon was wearing a hoodie.
So was this kid.

What am I supposed to think? Feel? 

Words

Lately, I've felt like I have been messing up the words. It's not like I have been messing up the words to a song, or misspelling or phrasing oddly the words of an essay, but I've been messing up the words I speak to people. I'm just not saying them right. I have accidentally hurt a couple people's feelings in the past week or so. Operative word - accidentally.  [I've put my foot in my mouth.]  @*#%&.  I should, perhaps, take a vow of silence for a day or two so I remember to think before I talk.  Or rather, I should remember my sincere prayer a few years ago to learn humility better, and recognize this recent phenomenon as an extended answer to that prayer.  Or perhaps, the truth is that I can sometimes be a selfish person who messes things up and hurts people.   My first inclination is to run away from the tension and hide away in the busyness of teaching and grad school and running and just let time pass so that it all falls away.  But, just yesterday, I prayed to learn vulnerability and community and trust and authenticity better.  Looks like that prayer was answered right away.  

A Few of My Favorite Things

A few of my favorite things, in no particular order without any overarching theme. :)


(1) My students

(2) Bryan and Katie Torwalt's station on Pandora


(3) This prayer: 


"People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway. If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway. If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway. If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway. What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway. If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyways. The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.  Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway. In the final analysis, it is between you and God.  It was never between you and them anyway." - [Blessed Mother Teresa]


(4) Slam poetry: Janette IKZ: "I Will Wait For You"


(5) Slam poetry: Taylor Mali: "What Teacher's Make"

(5) Training for the March 17th marathon with a run around Haynes Point, the monuments, the Capitol, and Columbia Heights with Adele, Backstreet Boys, Bruno Mars, Chris Brown, Dave Matthews, Florence and the Machine, Jason Mraz, Katy Perry, Ke$ha, Kenny Loggins, the Killers, Prince Royce, Shakira, and U2.

(6) My students' pen-pal relationship with my high school English teacher's class.

(7) Rita Springer's "King of the Jews" worship song


(8) Lemon & brown sugar chicken with Italian roasted potatoes and steamed green beans, and all things associated with home-cooked meals and dinner parties.  Thank you, Laura DiNatale!  

What My Kids Eat

Today, my enrichment group worked on a project dealing with exercise, steps taken per day, caloric intake, etc.  I took the kids on a five-minute walk around the school and had them count their steps.  (It's ~520 steps/5 min, FYI).  We also checked out the caloric content in the foods that we eat.  I had the kids write down what they ate yesterday for dinner before looking up the caloric content online.  The first four responses were: "a chicken nugget, and popcorn" ... "nothing" ... "lasagna and salad" ... and, "rice."

If only ~1 in 4 kids gets a decent meal for dinner ... then, just, good grief.


Other interesting (laughable?  sad?) meals of choice: 
* 2 slices of pizza and a banana, for breakfast
* oreos and cheetohs, for lunch
* strawberries and BBQ sandwich, for snack