Merry Christmas

I love the real Christmas story. The real reason why we celebrate. I think sometimes people (including myself) try to look for new ways to look at the Christmas story or try to find some new revelation instead of just marveling in the miracle of the birth of Christ. I mean, think about it. A king born and put in a manger! It's such a beautiful story and ever year I wish I could have seen everything play out the night of the birth. I can't even imagine what was going on in heaven. It's definitely going to be something I want to talk about when I am in heaven. I think that's why I like the song "Hark, The Herald Angels Sing" so much; just imagine all of the celebrating going on that night. It was probably beautifl beyond imaginiation. It's almost too much to even comprehend: our Savior born amongst barn animals showing He is here to save all people.

So, without going on further, I will let the real story speak for itself. The beautiful words about the night that literally changed the world forever.

Luke 2
"In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of teh entire Roman world. And everyone went to their own town to register.

So Joseph also went up from the twon of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went htere to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flock at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wraped in cloths and lying in a manger."

Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

"Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests."

When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."

So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shpherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told."

Merry Christmas.

If You Just Believe

“At one time most of my friends could hear the bell, but as years passed it fell silent for all of them. Even Sarah found one Christmas that she could no longer hear its sweet sound. Though I've grown old the bell still rings for me, as it does for all who truly believe.”



You know those Christmases that you never forget? The ones that stick out among the rest as extra special? This year will forever be remembered in my mind as beautiful and my own special Christmas miracle.

It is no secret that it has been a hard transition for me and this last month has been difficult. It wasn’t that I didn’t have the ‘Christmas spirit,’ but I was feeling unsure of myself and very unsure of my future. During these days that proved to be hard, I did several different devotions throughout the day, especially during the moments when I felt especially down. Last Wednesday night I was reading out of my devotional and one of the sentences I read said, “Get happy! Rejoice and be glad! Good things are about to happen…to YOU!”

For some reason, I believed that my prayers for direction were about to be answered.

The next 90 or so hours will always be remembered as perfect; the kind of Christmas Thomas Kinkade may have painted with the happy family and bustling town. It started Thursday morning. I woke up early, got on my sweats and headed to the mall (I usually don’t wear sweats to the mall, but I figured it didn’t matter at 7 am) to get some shopping done. Let me tell you that there is something special about Christmas shopping so early. I felt comfortable, the crowd at the mall was light, and everyone seemed in a good mood. The Christmas music was playing throughout the mall and I was carrying several bags full of gifts, the true sign that my trip was a success. I decided to get some Starbucks at Barnes and Noble, and right then and there on an ordinary Thursday morning I got a phone call about a long-term substituting job. Something inside of me just knew. I also knew it was a miracle because the day before I looked all over and saw no signs of any sort of job openings.

My spirits were lifted and my hopes were renewed.

That night, my sister got home from school and we celebrated by watching Home Alone and eating a ton of bad food that probably clog your arteries. We both hung out in the same basement we have been watching Christmas movies in since we were born with a fire and blankets. It felt like Christmas should feel.

Friday morning, I had my interview, went to work at the gym, and then got the beautiful phone call that I got the teaching position. My heart leaped with joy…literally. I swear I could feel all of the stress and confusion slip away instantly.
I went home that night praising God and chuckling to myself at how he really does provide for me. It was my own special Christmas gift from God. In the movie, The Polar Express, they say, “Seeing is believing, but sometimes, the most real things in the world are the things we can’t see.” I can’t see God, but that day especially I sure did feel Him and I knew this was His plan.

With the good news of the job and the fact that now my parents were off for Christmas break, my mom pulled through the driveway honking. The four of us quickly got ready and headed to the mall to begin the Savage Family Christmas Extravaganza.

We met my entire family there and we were all smiles. I felt the true spirit of Christmas as we all gathered by the carosoule anticipating what the event would bring, just excited to be together. As it turned out, my family planned a little scavenger hunt for all of the cousins. We got teams, and each team got $25 to buy as many items as possible all starting with a different letter of the alphabet. We got an hour. Amy and I were off.



We hit up that mall like robbers. Amy wanted to buy items that she wanted for herself (like Polly Pockets…because, after all, it did start with the letter P). At some point, her and I did discuss the fact that we would probably be allowed to keep the items we bought, so we began buying things we actually would use. We hid behind a couple of kiosks, trying not to get spotted by the other team, and ate a lot of extra candy. It was a good time to say the least.

After the secretive scavenger hunt, everyone headed to Kelly’s to see who won and to eat some of my grandpa’s famous chili. He makes the best chili out of anyone. We lit the fire, grabbed some chili and pop and displayed our treasures from the hunt. If you don’t know my family, than you probably wouldn’t understand how competitive we are. Both teams argued every point to the bitter end, and I am sad to report that Amy and I lost by 2 points. But, we did get to keep our gifts, including this awesome reindeer mask!



That night, despite it being late, we all stuck around and watched the movie “Dutch.” My uncle picked it, and now I know why. It is a funny movie and it reminds me of him. That night, I think we made a lot of memories just all being in the same room together, and it is exactly what I needed.



After the movie, Jess and I decided, along with my cousins, that we would spend the night at Kelly’s since we were all meeting again at 8 am to open up gifts. Kelly called it the “Old Fashioned Christmas.” Jess and I drove home, grabbed the pajamas, and headed back just in time to get in the hot tub and laugh some more. Her and I stayed in the basement, and before I could even change my clothes Jessie had fallen asleep on the couch watching “How I Met Your Mother” with the fire still going and the tree lit bright. I stood from the back and just marveled at how beautiful it all looked and just how beautiful life is. It clearly has its ups and downs, but in that moment of silence it made me appreciate both the ups and downs and how it got me to that very moment just looking at the Christmas tree.



When I woke up the next morning I felt joy, real joy. Christmas just couldn’t get any better, and it wasn’t even Christmas yet.

Bright and early at 7 am my grandparents showed up to Kelly’s in great spirits. I always loved seeing my grandparents on Christmas morning because my grandpa would usually dance and my grandma always brought the really good rolls from the Dutch bakery and said, “Merry Christmas!” over and over again.

We got the Christmas tunes going, helped get the egg nog, orange juice, muffins, rolls and coffee out and patiently waited by the fire for the rest of the family to show up. When they did, we got our breakfast and headed downstairs to the gifts. I spilled my orange juice on the tile, which is another tradition because I usually spill something on Christmas.

We opened gift by gift, all sharing laughter and excitement. I definitely started to think that something was up when, after getting money from my grandparents, the rest of the gifts were things like coffee, honey, and chocolate. It was so unlike my family to buy us food for Christmas. All of us began to secretly look at each other like, “Hmmm…we must have cut back this Christmas.”



After the last gift was opened, Kelly smiled and said, “Okay, now it’s time for the kids to go in this room while we do something.” We all knew then. The five cousins went in the bedroom and sat for what seemed like hours to Jacob. We wondered what was going on, but decided it would be better use of our time to vote who should be kicked off the island, that is, if we were all stranded on an island. While debating who wouldn’t be much help to us on our island, we were called back in.



We walked up to the tree and in 5 neat piles lay 3 presents. We were told to open them all together beginning with the bigger one first. Almost in sync we did as we were told and discovered that we all just opened up a brand new iPad. It was too good to be true. As if my Christmas miracle wasn’t enough, now I had a beautiful new iPad with all of the necessary accessories. My cousins, Jessie and myself were ecstatic. Amy shouted out, “This is the best Christmas ever!” I couldn’t agree more. And it wasn’t because of the expensive gifts even, but just the fact that I knew that God has been looking after me so carefully and my family is the best family in the world.



We spent the next couple of hours playing with our iPads and loading movies before the fun continued and my mom, dad, Jessie and I left for Indiana for the Abel Christmas.

I have always loved the trip down to my grandparents. We always stopped for food and listened to Christmas music anticipating my grandma’s famous scrabble mix. This time was no different. We pulled into her driveway and spent the night catching up, and of course, eating some scrabble.

Sunday morning, we went to church where I got to see the rest of my family and watch my two little cousins in their Christmas pageant. I have great memories at this little country church, and on this Sunday I heard another funny (they are always funny) stories about what happened to my uncle earlier that morning. A bird flew into their house and was all over the place. It wouldn’t be that funny except he is deathly afraid of birds and they were getting their house all ready for the Christmas party that night. My aunt laughed and told us that it was funny and ironic that the bird decided to take a rest and landed on a picture of my grandpa, who hated birds even more than my uncle. She said, “Ralph would be so mad if he knew that stupid bird landed on his picture out of all of the pictures sitting there!” And we all stood there and remembered and missed my grandpa.

That afternoon, we went to watch my cousin in her choir concert and it was the most beautiful choir event I have ever been to. It was even better to see my dad in his old high school and see all of these old ladies come up to him asking if they remembered their sons.

We then went to my uncle and aunt’s for the Christmas party. She had pastas and shrimp and sweet ice tea (like she always brings!). All of us sat and laughed and laughed and watched the little kids run around crazy like all of us cousins used to. We ate homemade peppermint cheesecake and opened up gifts and laughed as my aunt snapped photo after photo of us. In the craziness of the night, I felt so blessed to be able to be with people as funny as my family.

The whole weekend was a weekend I will never forget and a Christmas I will forever hold dear. It was in these moments of love and laughter where I felt the true spirit of Christmas and was reminded of the birth of my Savior. The Savior who against all odds provided me with another job and gave me the best people anyone could ever ask for.

As a child, my dad would always read us The Polar Express on Christmas Eve. I always have loved the opening lines which go, “On Christmas Eve many years ago I laid quietly in my bed. I did not rustle the sheets, I breathed slowly and silently. I was listening for a sound I was afraid I'd never hear: the sound of Santa's sleigh bells.”

It is all about believing in the hope that Christmas brings. The hope that things can and will get better. The hope that there is something more out there, that there is a Christ who was born to save people who don’t deserve all He has done. The belief that people are truly good at heart, and that there is good will out there. If we just believe.

O, Christmas Tree

When I was younger, my dad and I would play this game in the family room where one of our Christmas trees were. It was basically like I Spy, but so much more intriguing because it was Christmas time. One of us would find an ornament on the tree and the other person would ask questions to try and guess which ornament the other person was spying on.

I love(d) this game.

I think I love it because I love our upstairs Christmas tree. It’s a beautiful tree without explanation, but it is definitely one of those ‘homemade’ trees that professional decorators want to rearrange when they see. But every year on the day after Thanksgiving when we put the tree up, it is like unwrapping memory after memory. Sometimes I take for granted all of the ornaments and memories and I just hang them up so I can get on with eating a cookie or going shopping or something. I guess that is okay because som

etime during the Christmas season there would always be those still, quiet moments when my dad and I wouldplay the ornament game and Christmas would seem so…magical.

More than 80% of the ornaments were made by my great grandma. I know around Christmastime you miss the ones that aren’t here even more, and I think that’s why each year we put up the decorations my mom gets a little teary eyed. She talks about her grandparents, who I only knew for about ten years. Despite this, whenever I look at the Christmas tree I am reminded of my great grandparents and my grandparents and Christmas seems very real.

When I see the ornaments like this ice skate that my great grandma made, I remember the times when we were little and went to visit her in her old house.

She was probably one of the most joyful people I ever met with a real fiery personality. You could tell she was scrappy. Even though she was in her 80s, she was always so fun to be around. Every time we went over there, especially around Christmas, she would be sitting in her chair making ornaments. She would let us pick some and then she would tell us stories. I am not sure if they were 100% accurate, but they were good stories that got us interested. Some of them were about when she was younger and all these crazy adventures from living in an old farmhouse during the bitter winter months in Michigan. You could tell her other stories were a bit exaggerated (c’mon on though, good story tellers have to know how to sell their stuff!) but she had a way of telling them that made us all listen and ask more questions. I would like to think that I got some good story telling genes from her.

During our visits she always had an M&M jar and Jessie and I would take some and she would repeatedly ask how old Jessie was every six minutes. She started suffering from dementia, but she never lost that sassy personality. When I look at her old handmade ornaments, I miss her. I think I also miss a time that I didn’t even ever really know;a time of simplicity and slowness without the iphones, ipods, texting, and big screen tvs that nowadays seem to stress everyone (including myself) out and we don’t really understand the joy of not having a lot.

She also painted this ornament. It reminds me of my grandma and the cottage and how much she loves Lake Michigan.

Then, the ornaments like the one above. I especially like this ornament this year because I miss Huntington. But it is special because of how much my family cares about the university, and how much the university cares about my family.

And every year Jessie and I hang ornaments like these up we laugh. I think I made this in second grade. My mom loves these ones with our picture on them, but they just make me notice how I am wearing some sort of miniature shoulder pad thing and how 1995 must have been a great year to be in second grade.

I am pretty sure about 8% of our decorations on this tree are ones given to my parents from students. This one has been in our house since I can remember, and I fully appreciate it this year because I know how challenging/rewarding it is to strive to be the best teacher you can be. My mom definitely is one of those.

With all of these decorations, I find that special beauty of Christmas. Memories and reminders of love and peace and joy.

[Also, did you know that the history of the Christmas tree really did spring up from Christians trying to explain the trinity? It began in Germany. Then, hundreds of years later, thanks to these decorated evergreens George Washington was able to win the Battle of Trenton on Christmas Eve night: the German Hessian soldiers took a ‘break’ and went in to light an evergreen tree to be reminded of home. During this time, Washington and his men carried out their sneak attack. Cool, huh?]

My World is Changing, I'm Rearranging

Last week (AKA, the first week I was officially all moved in home), the first snow occurred in Huntington. I know this because not only did several of my friends inform me, but I saw a picture. The picture was just how I remembered it from last year and the last year, and the two years before that; the lights on campus illuminating the white snow and students in sweatpants playing in it smiling. It made me smile just looking at the picture because that is how it is during the first snow on campus. Everyone gets so happy and drops what they are doing and runs outside (regardless of what they are wearing; one of my good friends actually wore a silky bathrobe out one year, but that’s a whole different story) and just plays and the campus looks so alive, even at midnight. While I was looking at the picture, however, I felt sad. This was the first year in four that I wasn’t there for that special night.

Now I know there are different kinds of sadness out there, and this is one form of sadness that is all its own. It’s kind of weird and kind of lonely and the kind that you feel ashamed of feeling since you know there are such worst things out there to actually be sad about. But to me that night last week, I felt it big time. I know from talking to other friends and hearing stories from people and seeing other much wiser people go through it that transitioning is difficult and moving on is hard, so I’m not too worried about it. You know from my other posts that I was feeling down about leaving Huntington and unsure of what my next move should be. Being home now it’s really sinking in that this is permanent and that part is over.

Looking at the snowy picture of HU and realizing that I was no longer sitting in an apartment with my friends complaining about tests and I was no longer sitting at the house on Warren Street laughing so hard and talking about ‘real life’ like I had been these last 4 months. It’s a lonely feeling when you look at something that used to be yours and know that you have to start over now. That night, I would have given anything to transport myself to Huntington. I longed to be sitting with Liz, Megan and Susanne with the dogs grading papers and planning for the next weekend. And my heart hurt knowing that I am in Michigan now.

It’s been difficult transitioning back here. I feel as if I don’t know this area anymore and I for sure don’t know anyone. And sometimes it’s hard for me to even try when I feel like my heart is somewhere else. And let me tell you, the next phase of my life have big shoes to fill. Regardless of that, I feel as if this is where I am supposed to be for some reason. I have no idea why yet and I have been trying so hard to stay positive. Saying goodbye to friends, relationships, a job, and an area that in the strangest way has been my home for so long now is hard, and sometimes I am sad. I know many understand my feelings, that’s why I am not afraid to admit that for the first time I am feeling very unsure.

That night, last week when I felt very alone, I opened up this book my mom had on one of the coffee tables. I happened to flip to this story below, which made me feel a whole lot better about my doubt and fear:

It happened a few months before the first Christmas. A significant message was delivered to Mary, the other of Jesus - a message she needed to hear, a message you need to hear - on Christmas day and every day that follows.

Though the message was spoken by her cousin Elizabeth, it had been given to Elizabeth by the Holy Spirit. In other words, the message wasn’t from Elizabeth - it was from God. And it was meant to be remembered - not just by Mary, but also by you and me, and not just for the first Christmas, but for this one too. The message was only one sentence long, but it served as a bold exclamation point in a beautiful and tender exchange between these two treasured women of faith and courage.

On the lips of Elizabeth, God sent this reassurance, "Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished."

Because of the confusing circumstances Mary found herself in, she must have been struggling with fear and doubt, but God stepped forward and offered warm words of comfort and assurance. He extended His hand to calm the cold clash of faith and doubt, trust and fear, confidence and uncertainty.

He will do the same for you.

If you need HIs powerful voice to calm your timid heart, He will not hesitate to use it. If you need a show of His strength to defeat the forces of fear, God will act. He feels the pain of his children's doubt. He knows the limits of our strength. He wants you to know his comfort and assurance even in the most disturbing times.

This holiday season and beyond, when the world challenges your faith or pain pulls your confidence, remember the resounding reassurances of God given to a tender young woman in frightening circumstances, "Blessed are you who have believed that what the Lord has said to you will be accomplished."

John William Smith

I am trying so hard to have faith in the midst of my uncertainty while trying to start all over in a new place. I do believe that good things are going to happen, and I do believe that God will provide for me a new beautiful snowy picture at some point. I know that it won’t be in Huntington any longer, for those days are over (at least for now), and I need to open my heart for the new thing that will be done. And while I wait, I know that God does feel my pain and will continue to comfort while I try to rearrange again.

“It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running but life is on a stroll. This is how God does things.”

And of course, this verse calms me because through life’s constant changes I (we) need something that never changes no matter what. You job changes, your relationships change, you leave some friends and meet some new ones, heck, your personality even changes over time. Through all of this I need to know that there will be a constant no matter where I may be and God says, “I am the Lord, I do not change.” –Malachi 3:6 Thank goodness for that.

Thankfulness

As I was pondering what to write about for Thanksgiving, a couple things came to my mind. I could write about how every Thanksgiving it takes twenty minutes to explain a simple game like Apples to Apples to my family, or how my grandpa always says in one breath right after prayer, “Please pass the turkey, the gravy, mash potatoes, green beans, sweet potatoes, and salt and pepper,” or how every year my dad tells the dumbest jokes that no one laughs at. Or, I could write a list of all of the things I am thankful for. The list seemed trite, and being in the strange emotional state I am in currently I wasn’t feeling writing about my Thanksgiving traditions. I was going to ‘skip’ this holiday, but all this week during my time of transition and change, there has been a simple thought that has kept me going when I have felt like giving up. And that is what I want to share with you. This story is Thanksgiving in its most simple and pure form. There is no glamor or glitz or turkey or any such thing that you may associate with the holiday, and probably to those high up directors and presidents of the Macy Thanksgiving Day Parade it is silly. But to me, it will always be a special memory and one that will always remind me of the true meaning of being thankful.

Here is how the story began.

Last week was my last week teaching at Roanoke. During big transitions and emotional times of change, there comes a point when you just want it all to be over. It is during these days where the stress is so great and you can’t rely on your feelings because they are so twisted with emotion. My stress level last week was crazy; between packing up my apartment, saying goodbye, planning stuff for my students, packing up the classroom, and so on I was ready to just quit.

I was sad to say goodbye to my students who became such a part of my life. I wanted to give them something special before I left. It wasn’t that I wanted them to always remember me, but I wanted them to know how special and important they are in this crazy world, and to know that even when they don’t feel it, people love them. This group of kids really needed to hear that, especially in today’s world of never feeling good enough. I remembered when I was in fifth grade and my mom, who also was my teacher, made each of the students a frame with a nice note, our picture, and a list of things our fellow students said about us. I still have the frame today. I remember when I got it I did feel special and I still look at it and smile at what my fifth grade classmates thought of me. I decided this was the perfect gift for these students.

Weeks before, I had every kid write something nice about all of their classmates. As I read through their comments I noticed how one little girl who in society’s eyes may not have it all together, the child that gets picked on at school and doesn’t get a lot of support at home, the kind of student you wouldn’t blame for saying nothing but mean things about her classmates because no one is that nice to her anyway. I saw that she wrote the most genuine and sweet things about her classmates, and her very paper was the paper that forced me to finish this project on the nights when I was tired or thought I had better things to do (because, I would tell myself, what 11 year old today wants a frame with compliments on them when I could just give them candy or a McDonalds gift card?).

I did finish the frames, and on my second to last day of teaching I brought them in to hand out to the kids. I was thinking a super lot about them because I was exhausted and had convinced myself that these students would take the frame and vocalize how they would have liked something better from me. Nonetheless, I wanted them to feel special about themselves, even if they acted like they didn’t want them.

I pulled them into our meeting area and had them sit in an oval and I begin my quick 30 second speech about how much I have enjoyed them and how wonderful I think each of them are. I explained how we each have different talents but each of our talents are unique to us. I then went on to say how I could have gotten them candy, but candy doesn’t last and this always will. I ended with the cheesy, but true, statement that if they ever feel like they aren’t good enough or that no one likes them they can look at these. Honestly, I was expecting to see some of them start rolling their eyes or asking if we were done yet, but I got neither responses. They looked at me wide eyed and nodded in agreement, eager to see what I was going to pass out. I pulled out one of the frames and they all gasped as if I was holding up a million dollar check for them to all split. They all began saying, “You did not have to do this for us!” and “We don’t deserve this!” and “We should be buying you gifts!” and “Those look amazing!” I started to smile because their responses caught me off guard.

I began passing out the frames. With each frame being passed, the room grew a little louder with students smiling and laughing and sharing with others what their classmates wrote about them. They were so excited. I think I will always remember that moment when these kids who were proud of themselves and who did feel special. I hope everyone gets to be in a room full of eleven year olds (or at least just a group of people) when you can just feel the joy in the air, and not the joy that they got something materialistic because I feel the joy would not have been there like it was. This joy was of the sort of belonging and love.

But this part of the story is not even what I am focusing on.

After I passed out the frames to every student, someone asked me why there was another frame in my bag. I explained that I had an extra one in case any of their frames broke during the day. And after that, the day went on. I did notice that during Reader’s Workshop some of my students who are always on task were up more than usual, but other than that, the day was like any other. After lunch and recess I taught a short writing lesson and gave them time to write during which I was checking the last of my emails and grading the last of the papers. I turned around and there stood five of my students holding something behind their back. They were all smiling, and I grew suspicious.

Without introduction, they presented me with a frame; the very extra frame I had in my bag. Inside the frame was a very personalized and precious list of why I am special to them. I couldn’t believe it. My students snuck the frame from my bag, collected beautiful thoughts from one another and put it together at recess for me. I couldn’t have been more proud and humbled by their gesture. I felt so undeserving of their sweet words, and it will be something I will always hold dear.

On the top of the frame they wrote, “From your first class.” It filled my heart.

Thanksgiving is such a beautiful time to remember all that we have, and this story will always make me feel thankful for something so much more precious than material goods; the heart of a child and the gift of uplifting words of people who care about you and remind you that you are making a difference even when you think the world is no different because of you. That, to me, is what Thanksgiving is all about.

The Love of the Lord Endures

In all that I have found

Your evidence abounds

I've always sensed your fingerprints

If I just look around

And yet this grand display

Will all soon pass away

So I hold on to mighty truth

That your love is here to stay.

The love of the Lord endures.

The love of the Lord endures.

If there's one thing I can be sure

It's that the love of the Lord endures.

Life has let me down

In wealth joy can't be found

I've looked for peace in all of these

But I have always found

That the love of the Lord endures.

The love of the Lord endures.

If there's one thing I can be sure

It's that the love of the Lord endures.

When I stumble, when I fall

When I'm walking ten feet tall

Your love is there day after day

Even at the worst extreme

Or after I have been redeemed

Your love is there

And it won't let me go

The love of the Lord endures.

The love of the Lord endures.

If there's one thing I can be sure

It's that the love of the Lord endures.

-Joy Williams

I think I listened to that song about 15 times this morning driving to school. This is a big week of saying goodbye and transitioning, and holy cow I didn't think it would be this hard. It's even harder when everyone else is sad. It would be easier if the kids didn't act sad or if the new friends I made weren't so great, or if I wasn't loving every second with my friends down here. For the past four and a half years this has been it, and now that I have to move on and leave my first job and this place that has been home I can't imagine it.

I wish there was an easier way or something to do to make it all better and to make the pain of leaving and the pain of starting totally over go away, but there is no cure. Last week a bunch of us watched a movie at night, and there in the darkness as we were talking the only thing I could think to say was that I was scared. And Megan simply replied, "I know. I am too." I shouldn't be scared, and I don't mean scared of what's going to happen next. I trust that what happens next will be great. I am scared to say goodbye and I am scared to realize that a part of my life is over; it is really the only way I know how to describe it. And maybe sad. And I know someday I will tell my kids about my first teaching job at a little country school built in 1910 when my students went to tractor pulls on the weekends and when my closest friends and I decorated for Christmas too early and drank too much coffee while trying to keep up with life after college and it will be a great distant memory. I am just not ready for it to be a memory yet.

I wish that I didn't have to let go. I wish with everything that I didn't have to say goodbye and it does hurt. That is why this week as I prepare myself for goodbyes to these students, the people I work with, and goodbye (for a time, at least) to Huntington, a place filled with some of my most prized memories and where my life seems to be now, I need to know that through it God's love does endure no matter what.

Today

This morning, Courtney (the wonderful woman I am subbing for and worked with for my student teaching) and her family dedicated their new baby girl at church. They invited their friends and family to join and celebrate after church. This morning was another time when I realize how blessed I am to be here and with these people.

Courtney adopted their newest addition and she is a beautiful little toddler. Seeing and being a part of Courtney’s adoption experience has opened my eyes more than I thought possible. I am so lucky to have seen this process that tests one’s patience and faith. When we were all having dinner after church at their home, Courtney gave us an Orphan Prayer. As I was reading it, I was shocked by the number of orphans there are in the world; children who will never have a family, children who will die of diseases that could be fought if they had attention.

This made me sad, especially when we know how much Jesus loves little children:

Psalm 139:13-16 For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.

Matthew 18:2-6 And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, “Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven. “Whoever receives one such child in my name receives me, but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea.

Matthew 18:10 See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven.

Seeing children as I do every day, and seeing the kids at church this morning and their simple faith and love, it is unbelievable just how many children don’t have homes in the world. And after seeing this adoption process come to what it is now for this family, I have become more and more intrigued with adoption and working with orphans either directly or indirectly.

On a slightly different note, in a few weeks my teaching assignment down here will be up, and Courtney’s time at home with her new baby will end, too. These transitions will be hard for both of us I know, so I guess I am glad I am not alone in it. But, as each day ends, as I make more wonderful memories with my incredible friends, as I develop strong relationships with the students, as I make new friends, as I go to the same church I have gone at through college for yet another time it gets harder and harder thinking about leaving.

I am nervous and sad about leaving. I am trying so hard to understand that the right doors will open; if I am supposed to go back home to GR in a few weeks for good or if I should stay down here for a bit yet then it will happen. But waiting and preparing to say goodbye is so incredibly difficult.

“We need to remember to rely on God in every situation, never trying to ‘make things’ happen in our own strength, but doing our part to persevere, while counting on God to bring the breakthrough we need.”

“Everything God ever asks you to do, even if its difficult, He asks because He has something great in mind for you.”

“God will open and close the doors. Don’t rush your decision. Let God confirm the direction He wants you to go. We need to learn the wisdom of waiting and discerning the will of God.”

“Every beginning is a consequence – every beginning ends something.”

“Moving on is a simple thing, what it leaves behind is hard.”