Seasons...

Life has been very busy lately, filled with exciting activities, constant action. School takes up most of my time, music fills in the cracks, and the leftovers are spent in a variety of ways.

I have began teaching Science and Math to Secondary 3, and I love it. Of course, my Secondary 4 class are still MY students, near and dear to me from all the time I have spent with them over the first few weeks of school covering various subjects.

Soon I am going to take on Secondary 1 and 2 oral Math and Science classes and I really look forward to it, although I will no longer be in the Secondary 4 classroom even half as much as I used to be, what I have become so accustomed to. I have nothing to complain about, really, because the younger classes are certainly easy for me, and although I have loved ERC it definitely makes my job simpler to just teach two subjects to several classes all day.

Last night I found my old Algebra book...actually, it is my sister's old book, mine was in bad condition, so my parents got her a new one. I fingered it lovingly and opened it. Inside I found a paper with notes in my dad's handwriting. I gulped. Brushing aside any further thoughts that were outside the realm of mathematics, I eagerly paged through the first few pages to see what I needed to be covering with my Secondary 3 class. Recalling suddenly that I needed to more importantly be brushing up on what Sec 4 and 5 is doing, my fingers flipped ahead. It all seemed so familiar, but like an echo from the past, too distant to recall the exact procedures and details. Then it came over me, a flood of emotions, like an incoming tide breaks on the shore, dropping the seashells on the sand as it leaves just as soon as it came...the algebra was too complex and overwhelming and I needed my dad. I knew I knew it already, but I just needed him to refresh my knowledge, to hold my hand, to tell me he was so happy I was teaching his favorite subjects and to assure me I would excel at it.

As I write the gray clouds cover the window's view of any blue sky or sunshine. The rain they hold back seems to spill over in my eyes. Blinking fast I glance up...Secondary 4 is away at French, Secondary 5 is working in a group at English and with a sigh of relief I observe no one sees me holding back the emotions choking me inside.

Last year was so depressing at times. Ever since June 24th I have felt so bubbly and free inside. Grief behind, my world bright and cheery ahead of me, the sun shining warmly upon me. Every time I have been tempted to feel discouraged I have dug deep inside and found a bubbly brook of joy running through for me to tap happiness and smiles from. Even now I am tapping into it, but in the moment of overwhelming sadness and the emotion from the reality of a missing father, it seems out of question and beyond reason to think of tapping into that spring of joy.

But deep inside that spring still bubbles. It refreshes. The source is not earthly in any way. It is eternal and can only be the Savior. As I type I am listening to a beautiful song I love enjoying as I fall asleep at night, or whenever I need a stilling of my soul... Here are the lyrics:

What can take a dying man and
Raise him up to life again?
What can heal a wounded soul?
What can make us white as snow?
What can fill the emptiness?
What can mend our brokenness?
Brokenness

Mighty, awesome, wonderful
Is the holy cross
Where the Lamb laid down His life
To lift us from the fall
Mighty is the power of the cross


What restores our faith in God?
What reveals the Father's love?
What can lead the wayward home?
What can melt a heart of stone?
What can free the guilty ones?
What can save and overcome?
Overcome

It's a miracle to me
It's still a mystery
It's a miracle to me
The power of God
For those who believe

-Chris Tomlin

Arriving,Mighty Is The Power of The Cross

Be encouraged! We serve a mighty God who loves and cares for us in every way :)

(First click on the pause button on the music player on the side streaming 30 second previews of my favorite Jars of Clay songs, before you play the movie before...or it will be confusing noise to say the least!)

"Do not withhold your mercy from me, O LORD;

may your love and your truth always protect me."

-Psalm 40:11

Writing...

My cousin Jordan e-mailed me this morning while my students were busy doing math. "Mayday!!!" was part of the subject line and I smirked. I just spoke with my aunt Sunday night, and she told me that her son needed help in English and he might call me for advice. This must be it, I thought to myself.

He needed help understanding what Robert Frost meant in one of his extraordinary works of poetry. The line was certainly intriguing and I helped my cousin as best as I felt I could. He was very grateful and we proceeded to discuss writing, my class, and other things school related.

Jordan then shared the following writing with me. I was so impressed by his masterpiece I asked his permission to share it here with my readers, specifically my students. Jordan will be 16 years old this November and has done an amazing job at creating the feeling I would love my students to channel through their writings.

The Mercedes accelerated up the hill with exploding speed. It had just been washed and waxed and was gleaming with its illustrious scarlet red finish. However, it was no time to be looking at the exterior of this magnificent machine, it was what lied under the hood that was more worthy of notice. Its V8 engine was pumping a mixture of nitrogen and gasoline into its firing pistons. As the spark plugs ignited this dangerous mixture, the Mercedes raced through the test track at over 100 miles per hour. The fusion of gases was the first of its type. This super fuel made the vehicle go 0-60 miles per hour faster than it had ever done, while achieving excellent fuel efficiency. If you are wondering what car this is, it is a Mercedes CLR racecar.

This was a trial to determine if racecars could use this highly volatile blend of explosive gases. Until this time all the cars they had experimented on had either exploded or simply not turned on. Instead with this efficient machine everything was running smoothly.

Okay, so there are a few mistakes there, but this is better than what I have seen from some of my students who I think are just not trying hard enough. I think I am going to give this to my students to edit, just so they can learn how to edit and what to look for in writing. I just wish journals class was more often than it is!


Do not forsake wisdom, and she will protect you; love her, and she will watch over you
-Proverbs 4:6

Picture Writing Assignment

I love Cedar, I love my class here, and I love teaching Journals the best :)

Each student has created their own blog, each wrote their first post.

Today for Jounals class I gave them a picture writing assignment. I loved it when my mom gave us that during our writing class: to just let my imagination run wild based on a picture and express my thoughts as best as my pen could tell...bliss beyond explanation!

Above is the painting by Robert Duncan that we used. Growing up we had his calendars and we often used the paintings on each page as our subject for our assignment. We never used this one, though.

I discovered amazing creativity in my students by reading their compositions today! I am so happy for each one of them and I am sure they will continue to improve.

Yesterday I had the joy of commenting on each of my students' blogs, and for my students reading this, there is a reason behind me signing my name preceded by "Love and Prayers"....I love you all and pray for each of you every day. Don't ever forget that!!! :)

See, I have taught you decrees and laws as the LORD my God commanded me, so that you may follow them in the land you are entering to take possession of it. Observe them carefully, for this will show your wisdom and understanding to the nations, who will hear about all these decrees and say, "Surely this great nation is a wise and understanding people." What other nation is so great as to have their gods near them the way the LORD our God is near us whenever we pray to him?

-Deuteronomy 4:5-7

Milestones

First steps, first words, first day of school: all these are premiere events, milestones, in a child's life.

I remember after my father passed away, worrying about how I would get through the first year as I faced the "firsts"... First Thanksgiving without him; my First Birthday without him; even the small things like when I had the priviledge of leading my first youth worship team. I remember looking up and expecting him to walk in at any point, even though it was 11 months since the day he had passed away and I had grown accustomed to him not being around.

Two months after my father went to be with the Lord, my family began attending a church. On August 31, 2008, we walked into Madison Baptist Church. I was scared, nervous, insecure. I carried guilt from mistakes I had made that I wouldn't relinquish to the Father's forgiveness. I was withdrawn and shy.

I was met with open arms of love like I have never seen in my life. My family was taken in and treated like we were family there. We found joy in serving and using our talents, whatever they may be, for our church. My brother Benjamin mans the mixer every Sunday and does an amazing job: it's just so encouraging to see him back there in the sound room doing what he loves to do. I love my church family so much: they are such an encouragement and blessing to me.

Now, a year later, I am beginning my first job outside the home as a teacher. As I type, my secondary 4 students are busy writing at their desks, their heads bowed over their papers, hardly a noise to be heard above that of my fingers on the keys of my new netbook. The bright room is filled with the sunshine streaming in the window and the tension from my first moment as a teacher seems to have melted away as I look over my class of nine amazing students I look forward to teaching.

A new life has begun...a new milestone every time....

With every curve in the road, every new view, one things remains constant: God's faithfulness. We serve a God who never changes.

And I said, My strength and my hope is perished from the LORD: Remembering mine affliction and my misery, the wormwood and the gall. My soul hath them still in remembrance, and is humbled in me. This I recall to my mind, therefore have I hope. It is of the LORD's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. The LORD is my portion, saith my soul; therefore will I hope in him. The LORD is good unto them that wait for him, to the soul that seeketh him. It is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the LORD. It is good for a man that he bear the yoke in his youth.

-Lamentations 3:18-27