"How long will you continue to do that?" a relative asked me over winter break. She was referring to my volunteer teaching of reading to a teenage boy, Azarious. He had started school for the very first time in his life this October.
"As long as I can afford it."
That's what I told her, but to be honest, I don't really know what that means. What number do I let my bank account drop to until "I can't afford it"? Does that mean I will teach Azarious for free as long as I have a roof over my head, food to eat, and enough gas money to get to him everyday? Does it mean I work some afternoon/evening job for as many hours as physically possible so that I have enough money to pay for my electric bill and internet connection?
Because let's be honest, I could probably always "afford" to teach Azarious for free. It just depends on what I'm willing to give in order to make it happen. Most likely, it will not be finances that prevent me from driving to him everyday to teach him reading, it will be my own selfish behavior.
It will be me deciding that I want to be able to eat out at restaurants, or that I want a new phone or nicer car. It will be me thinking that I need to make more money. Or it will be me tired of driving an hour a day to do a job for free. Or it will be me deciding that "I can't emotionally handle the burden of being the only person trying to help this kid."
And what about Bible Club? I teach it four days a week for free at a public elementary school. How long will I be able "to afford" that? If need be, I can move in with my sister, parents, or grandma. I can get on food stamps. Money is not the issue. What will stop me from teaching Bible Club will be my desire to sleep in past 6:30. Or it will be my desire to have a full time job that starts sooner than 9:30am. It will be my pride and I'll decide that not making very much money means that I am a loser.
All of this thinking started last Wednesday when I realized how completely selfish I am. As I was driving home from the high school, I thought about calculating how much all of this volunteer work is costing me:
gas to get to Bible Club
time spent at Bible Club instead of at a job
money spent on Bible Club materials and building rental fees
gas to get to the high school for Azarious
time spent teaching Azarious instead of at a paid job
gas to get home
time spent planning/preparing to teach Bible club and Azarious instead of at a job
But before I was able to get my hands on a calculator and do some math, a different thought came into my head. "How much would it cost these kids if I didn't do this?"
The answer is too much. I can't calculate how much my Bible Club teaching is affecting those kids' lives. I can't measure how much teaching Azarious how to read is going to impact his future. I don't know, and the not knowing makes it unsafe to gamble their lives.
The question is not "how much is this going to cost me?" The question is "how much do I have to give?" The answer to the latter is "enough." If that's not the right answer, then the correct one is "more than enough."
I'm going to be fine. I should stop hoping that God sends me surprise fatty checks in the mail, because he has provided for me in advance. I have enough already, and I have enough to give.
I'm afraid that I will get more selfish and stop giving with a cheerful heart. I'm afraid that I will become bitter like before when I was an actual paid teacher. I don't want that. Having a resentful heart is like drinking a mug of poison every morning while you sit and read the newspaper.
I don't fear the possibility of eating Ramen noodles every night; I fear my own humanistic qualities and the truth that man is selfish. Fighting yourself is the hardest battle.
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Showing posts with label trust. Show all posts
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Monday, October 10, 2011
sometimes I write about you
You know how there are those movies like Never Been Kissed and How To Lose a Guy in 10 Days? And how the women are writers and start their adventure in order to have a good story to get published, but then they end up falling in love and the guys find out it was all for a story and can't forgive the woman for using him? I'm not like that.
I would not do anything for a blog story, because I'm not that desperate. Mostly if I don't have anything interesting to say, I lie and make something up. If you have a boring life then it is very important to have a good imagination. Not that I'm saying I have a boring life. I don't. Yesterday I was at Winco and saw two teenage boys get into a fistfight in the parking lot. I broke it up not because I have really big muscles, but because I realized one of them was a kid I taught to read, and I expected more from him.
I think it could be exciting if someone discovered this blog and then didn't trust me because they thought I was using them for material. Because you know what I would do? Write about how that person thinks I'm using them. And then they would probably read my blog every day to see how I trash talked them, and they would forward it to their friends, and wouldn't you know? I'd have forty more readers. Jajaja. Kidding. There are only four people who read my blog, and one of them is my mother. I don't mind. Because you know what I can do? Write things like "I really wish I could get a GPS for my birthday so I would stop getting lost." And then my mom might read it and think "I know exactly what to buy for Joelle next month." Then when I open my present I can act all surprised and say "How did you know?!" Likely she not reply "I read your blog," but rather "I was tired of you calling me every time you got lost in a one-way grid."
Blogs can be used for nefarious purposes, such as passive-aggressive messages and cryptic criticisms. For example, if I wrote "There is a certain person in a particular town who keeps twisting circumstances to fit his/her needs and it is really annoying. I wish they'd wake up from denial," you might think that I was targeting you. At which point I would suggest that you examine your life and figure out what twisted circumstances I am referring to.
And wouldn't you know? You've just e-mailed this to three people asking them if they think I really was referring to you. I will neither confirm nor deny anything. It is probably true that a gossip centered blog would get a lot of readers, but I do not like to say true or untrue things about anybody, unless it's about myself. For example, did you know that I am actually a really talented parkour athlete? Only I never tell anybody about it because parkour is so dumb and does nothing to help society? Yes, sometimes gossiping about yourself and revealing your own secrets to an audience is necessary when TMZ could care less if you suddenly gained ten pounds and are spotted at the pool wearing an ill-fitting swimsuit.
I think that when I tell people I like writing and I like spy type stuff and detective work, they get worried that I might start hiding in a bush in their backyard with binoculars, peering into their lives, ready to report. But that simply is not true. One time, in some year prior to 2011, I was actually accused of espionage. I am not even making that up in order to sound more interesting. It really did happen. It had terrible emotional repercussions, and is one of the stories I prefer to tell in person and not in writing. But now I think it's fun to casually mention I was once accused of being a spy, because doesn't a story like that peak your interest? You are probably wondering what I did to deserve such suspicion.
The fact is, I may very rarely refer cryptically to others in this blog. Chances are, if you think I am referencing you, I'm not. Instead, I've probably mentioned you many times when you had absolutely no idea that it was you. That's why Detective School is useful; it helps you decode these things.
But what detective school does not teach you is to not bother yourself with reading blogs looking for coded mention of your person. Because chances are, the content is not worth your trouble. Unless of course, the writer is trying to cryptically let you know that she loves you. In those instances, it is always best to assume she is referring to you.
I would not do anything for a blog story, because I'm not that desperate. Mostly if I don't have anything interesting to say, I lie and make something up. If you have a boring life then it is very important to have a good imagination. Not that I'm saying I have a boring life. I don't. Yesterday I was at Winco and saw two teenage boys get into a fistfight in the parking lot. I broke it up not because I have really big muscles, but because I realized one of them was a kid I taught to read, and I expected more from him.
I think it could be exciting if someone discovered this blog and then didn't trust me because they thought I was using them for material. Because you know what I would do? Write about how that person thinks I'm using them. And then they would probably read my blog every day to see how I trash talked them, and they would forward it to their friends, and wouldn't you know? I'd have forty more readers. Jajaja. Kidding. There are only four people who read my blog, and one of them is my mother. I don't mind. Because you know what I can do? Write things like "I really wish I could get a GPS for my birthday so I would stop getting lost." And then my mom might read it and think "I know exactly what to buy for Joelle next month." Then when I open my present I can act all surprised and say "How did you know?!" Likely she not reply "I read your blog," but rather "I was tired of you calling me every time you got lost in a one-way grid."
Blogs can be used for nefarious purposes, such as passive-aggressive messages and cryptic criticisms. For example, if I wrote "There is a certain person in a particular town who keeps twisting circumstances to fit his/her needs and it is really annoying. I wish they'd wake up from denial," you might think that I was targeting you. At which point I would suggest that you examine your life and figure out what twisted circumstances I am referring to.
And wouldn't you know? You've just e-mailed this to three people asking them if they think I really was referring to you. I will neither confirm nor deny anything. It is probably true that a gossip centered blog would get a lot of readers, but I do not like to say true or untrue things about anybody, unless it's about myself. For example, did you know that I am actually a really talented parkour athlete? Only I never tell anybody about it because parkour is so dumb and does nothing to help society? Yes, sometimes gossiping about yourself and revealing your own secrets to an audience is necessary when TMZ could care less if you suddenly gained ten pounds and are spotted at the pool wearing an ill-fitting swimsuit.
I think that when I tell people I like writing and I like spy type stuff and detective work, they get worried that I might start hiding in a bush in their backyard with binoculars, peering into their lives, ready to report. But that simply is not true. One time, in some year prior to 2011, I was actually accused of espionage. I am not even making that up in order to sound more interesting. It really did happen. It had terrible emotional repercussions, and is one of the stories I prefer to tell in person and not in writing. But now I think it's fun to casually mention I was once accused of being a spy, because doesn't a story like that peak your interest? You are probably wondering what I did to deserve such suspicion.
The fact is, I may very rarely refer cryptically to others in this blog. Chances are, if you think I am referencing you, I'm not. Instead, I've probably mentioned you many times when you had absolutely no idea that it was you. That's why Detective School is useful; it helps you decode these things.
But what detective school does not teach you is to not bother yourself with reading blogs looking for coded mention of your person. Because chances are, the content is not worth your trouble. Unless of course, the writer is trying to cryptically let you know that she loves you. In those instances, it is always best to assume she is referring to you.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
The biggest trust fall ever taken
It's been nearly four weeks since the school year ended, and I figured I might as well let everyone know what I've been privately telling friends and family members.
I've resigned from my teaching job and I have no definite plan. For me, this is the ultimate trust fall into God's hand. I've always had a plan. It was my plan, and I made it happen. I realize now how incredibly moronic that was. The only plan I can follow now is God's plan. Whatever it is, wherever it takes me, whatever I have to do.
Maybe you are snubbing your nose at me. You quit your job during this economic crisis? Why can't you be thankful for your job, even if it is hard work? I am thankful, readers. I am thankful indeed. I am thankful that I survived 256 days of the most trying and shadowed time of my life, only by the mercy of God. I wanted to quit on Day 20. On Day 48, I wanted a Mexican gang to kidnap me and hold me for ransom in Tijuana so that way I wouldn't have to go to work. On day 62 I contemplated faking a pregnancy so that I could go on faux maternity leave. I say these things and you laugh because it's funny now, but it was not funny then. I was serious. I was insanely and desperately seriously wanting to be either kidnapped or in the hospital. That is not okay. Your life is not okay when your job makes you feel like that. Your soul is not okay when you wish you could spend some time in a Mexican slammer.
So thank you Lord. Thank you, thank you, thank you for this very tough and trying experience. I realize I cannot make it on my own. I realize I cannot count on other people to make it better. You alone are enough. I thought I knew that before all this happened, but I only knew it conceptually. I didn't feel it in my heart.
Friends, this is not me quitting my job. I have finished. I have reached the finish line, even if I had to crawl on my hands and knees with mud in my eyes to get there. God only knows what sorts of trials are up next. Maybe they are worse. In that case, it's a good thing I've been so practiced and prepared.
You might think I'm being dramatic, over-reacting, weak, or being too emotional. What was it like, you ask? It's like this: I am a fine bone china teacup. I get filled with instant coffee and get zapped in the microwave. I am offended, hurt, a bit cracked on the inside. That is me in every day life. Here is me for the past year of my job: I am a fine bone china teacup. I've been taken out to the pavement and a sledge hammer has smashed me into very tiny pieces. I've been run through the grinder so many times that I have become sand.There is nothing left for the old purpose of holding tea. I am now a powdery white sand, and I am ready for God to breathe new purpose into me.
I would very much like a rest. I would like to find some comfort and peace, but I know I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Alone, I am sand, but with the Lord I am a warrior. So, to God I say "bring me comfort and peace," but to the world I say, "bring it." Because I know God's got me covered. Even when I am lacking in faith and think that he doesn't care about me.
Now I wake up early every day because I am so excited to get out of bed. I love life. This feeling of joy may be fleeting, and when September rolls around and I feel the hit of a missed paycheck, my feelings could very well change. But this is a trust fall. I'm falling, Lord, I'm falling. I know you'll catch me.
Readers, I am excited. I am thrilled to show you what my God can do. I have a feeling it will surprise the both of us.
I've resigned from my teaching job and I have no definite plan. For me, this is the ultimate trust fall into God's hand. I've always had a plan. It was my plan, and I made it happen. I realize now how incredibly moronic that was. The only plan I can follow now is God's plan. Whatever it is, wherever it takes me, whatever I have to do.
Maybe you are snubbing your nose at me. You quit your job during this economic crisis? Why can't you be thankful for your job, even if it is hard work? I am thankful, readers. I am thankful indeed. I am thankful that I survived 256 days of the most trying and shadowed time of my life, only by the mercy of God. I wanted to quit on Day 20. On Day 48, I wanted a Mexican gang to kidnap me and hold me for ransom in Tijuana so that way I wouldn't have to go to work. On day 62 I contemplated faking a pregnancy so that I could go on faux maternity leave. I say these things and you laugh because it's funny now, but it was not funny then. I was serious. I was insanely and desperately seriously wanting to be either kidnapped or in the hospital. That is not okay. Your life is not okay when your job makes you feel like that. Your soul is not okay when you wish you could spend some time in a Mexican slammer.
So thank you Lord. Thank you, thank you, thank you for this very tough and trying experience. I realize I cannot make it on my own. I realize I cannot count on other people to make it better. You alone are enough. I thought I knew that before all this happened, but I only knew it conceptually. I didn't feel it in my heart.
Friends, this is not me quitting my job. I have finished. I have reached the finish line, even if I had to crawl on my hands and knees with mud in my eyes to get there. God only knows what sorts of trials are up next. Maybe they are worse. In that case, it's a good thing I've been so practiced and prepared.
You might think I'm being dramatic, over-reacting, weak, or being too emotional. What was it like, you ask? It's like this: I am a fine bone china teacup. I get filled with instant coffee and get zapped in the microwave. I am offended, hurt, a bit cracked on the inside. That is me in every day life. Here is me for the past year of my job: I am a fine bone china teacup. I've been taken out to the pavement and a sledge hammer has smashed me into very tiny pieces. I've been run through the grinder so many times that I have become sand.There is nothing left for the old purpose of holding tea. I am now a powdery white sand, and I am ready for God to breathe new purpose into me.
I would very much like a rest. I would like to find some comfort and peace, but I know I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. Alone, I am sand, but with the Lord I am a warrior. So, to God I say "bring me comfort and peace," but to the world I say, "bring it." Because I know God's got me covered. Even when I am lacking in faith and think that he doesn't care about me.
Now I wake up early every day because I am so excited to get out of bed. I love life. This feeling of joy may be fleeting, and when September rolls around and I feel the hit of a missed paycheck, my feelings could very well change. But this is a trust fall. I'm falling, Lord, I'm falling. I know you'll catch me.
Readers, I am excited. I am thrilled to show you what my God can do. I have a feeling it will surprise the both of us.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
My own personal Philistine
Maybe you're familiar with the story of David and Goliath. Giant taunts the Israelites daily, morning and night, saying "Who will come out and fight?" Kid knocks the over-sized bearded bully out cold with the help of God.
I feel like I have my own personal Philistine. He's been following me around for years, mocking me. "Who will come out and fight?" I've pretended like I didn't hear him. I've been afraid. It took so much courage for me just to go to the stream and pick out the rocks. I am not David. My faith and trust in God is not as strong as his was. But I've got my rocks now. I'm putting them in my slingshot, because I'm ready to take this Philistine down. This is a battle, and it's one I must win. My Philistine is not called Goliath. No, he goes by another name. But his head is about to be cut off just the same.
1 Samuel 17:45-47
David said to the Philistine, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the LORD Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the LORD will deliver you into my hands, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. This very day I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds and the wild animals, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the LORD saves; for the battle is the LORD’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.”
I feel like I have my own personal Philistine. He's been following me around for years, mocking me. "Who will come out and fight?" I've pretended like I didn't hear him. I've been afraid. It took so much courage for me just to go to the stream and pick out the rocks. I am not David. My faith and trust in God is not as strong as his was. But I've got my rocks now. I'm putting them in my slingshot, because I'm ready to take this Philistine down. This is a battle, and it's one I must win. My Philistine is not called Goliath. No, he goes by another name. But his head is about to be cut off just the same.
1 Samuel 17:45-47
David said to the Philistine, “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the LORD Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the LORD will deliver you into my hands, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. This very day I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds and the wild animals, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the LORD saves; for the battle is the LORD’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.”
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