Pick up a roadmap, you’re going to need it…

Mom got the insurance check on the car yesterday and went car shopping with my dad last night. She thinks she found the car she wants at - gasp - the Honda place. (As of 48 hours ago, all four of us drove Toyota’s.)

A strategy has been put in place to get both Mom and Dad the vehicles they need- and once again Dad’s selflessness amazes me. Dad is going to take the insurance check and get a used car or truck. He says he doesn’t care what he drives and that he wants Mom to have a new car.

He has always taken the used vehicle, or the less nice vehicle for his own. Every one else in the family has had the nicer cars. When Mom’s old cars finally bit the dust - she got new ones. When I needed a car for student teaching - I get a VERY nice used car with less than 12,000 miles on it. When my brother needed a car to get back and forth from college - he got an amazing used car (older model but in factory condition.) While Mom has gone through 3 cars (one finally died of old age and the last two were totaled in wrecks that were other people’s faults), and both my brother and I have gotten cars that my parents have paid at least partly for, my dad has driven the same 1994 Toyota extended cab truck. He has put in a new clutch, put on new bumpers, stitched and sewed seats together - all in an effort to make the truck last.

Now that I think about it. That is the way Daddy has always been. He has always taken the lesser quality of everything so his family can have the things we want and need. When we had to get uniforms for high school - he made his clothes stretch just a little longer so we could also have some new casual clothes. When I needed a graphing calculator in college and my brother needed one in high school - he dipped into his savings. When I needed new tires on my car in very short notice last year - he took money from his motorcycle fund to get them for me.  When I left for Fire in the Night - he put cash in my car so I could have some spending money and I know that came from his savings.

This is just another example of how Dad sacrifices for his family. Mom is so upset about this wreck. She was planning on getting him a new shiny truck - something big he can take hunting and carry around wood and tools for the things he likes to build. She wanted to get him something super nice as a reward for all the times he has sacrificed for us, but now he is sacrificing for his wife again.

Mom said that when she was standing there looking at the wreck the other night and crying Dad was so sweet. She just stood there apologizing for the totaled car and that she couldn’t get him that truck and he just gently let her cry and told her not to worry because it wasn’t her fault.  He even tried to tell her that he didn’t think it was totaled - but the air bags went off and the front was crunched so that wasn’t the truth. He also kept telling her that they will make it work somehow.

And they will make it work. This family has gotten through worse things that a car wreck before this. We’ve made it through greater financial burdens. If we got through things in the past then I know we can get through things again.

My mom was in a wreck last night coming home from Mimi and Aunt Judy’s house. She’s ok, but the car is a total loss. Her 2001 silver Solara has bit the dust. This is hard for my family as Dad is in dire need of a new truck. The reason we were all so happy that my car is in my name was so Dad could get something to replace the almost 14 year old truck he is driving. It looks like we are going to have to stretch finances a little bit the next few months. Hopefully the insurance will cover the bulk of a new car for Mom so that this is not too much of a financial burden.

 A moment of silence please for the car in which I got my driver’s license.

…

The Toyota place sure is going to love our family this year.

What was I created to be? 

I guess I’ve been asking myself this for quite a while. I know I’ve been actively wrestling with what I am called to do for the last year. Maybe it has been longer than that, but I know the true season of tears and frustration over this issue has been occurring in the last 11 months (13 if you count when I was doing Fire in the Night.)

I know first and foremost I was created for worship. I was created for communion with the Most High. I am created to give all the I do as a sacrifice of praise.

In the words of a Jason Upton song, :”This is no sacrifice, its my life.”

I want to be part of the prayer movement - night and day prayer until the returning of the Lord. For awhile I was totally thinking that I wanted to be a part of the prayer movement in the context of being an intercessory missionary. I am beginning to realize that as I live my life here - away from any prayer room - that I am being part of that prayer movement. As I lift my heart to the Lord while at work, church, or home; as I read and study my Bible; as I try to live my life as a beacon of light in a darkened world - those times are just as important to the prayer movement as sitting in chairs in a prayer room and praying night and day. It is not what I do in where everyone can see it that is most important. It is how I posture my heart in the times of being alone with the Lord that define my spiritual walk.

I value time in the prayer room like no other time. I love being around people who also are passionately pursuing the Lord. I love being able to cry, dance, sing, sing in sign, etc. with other people who don’t look at me weird for doing so. I love the friendships that I have cultivated in the context of the prayer room. The time I get in the prayer room - or even listening to it on the web-cast - is precious to me as a treasure of silver or gold or even fine jewels.

But this past year I have realized that I miss being in the classroom. Truly my time I spend teaching is a time of worship for me. I feel in my element. It is a hard thing to do, but it is the most fulfilling thing in my life. It is also a weighty responsibility. It drives me to prayer and worship. It drives me to the realization that I am entirely dependant on the Lord to continue doing it. Teaching beats me down to the bare bones - in a good way. It reveals my depravity and my need for a savior. It reveals my hidden anger and my insecurities. It teaches to me to stand up for myself and to rejoice in others’ successes.

Teaching is a refiner’s fire to me. It slowly purifies me. Oh, it hurts in the process, but I am better for it.

It is time for me to get into the classroom. I was created to teach. It is the desire of my heart.

It is time… yes, it is time.

And I’m willing to follow where ever the Lord will have me to go.

Yes, this does mean that I will be back in Kansas City soon for interviews. This time it feels right. It is a hard decision to possibly uproot my life and move 620 miles from home. But I feel this is the Lord’s leading. Much more prayer will be put into this decision, but it feels like a solid and right choice on my part. I can teach anywhere, but my heart is leading me to be in a place that I can be a teacher and can have access to the prayer room.

It is late and I should be sleeping. I have much to do tomorrow during the daylight hours and my body is most definitely back on nights. The evening has worn me out though. A couple hours of soccer with friends will do that too you. I was laughing earlier, but at this time tears are fighting their way valiantly down my cheeks.

This is one of those nights that I need to be brutally honest - read it if you want, or don’t read it; respond if you wish, or just leave me to my musings. It doesn’t matter to me what you do, please just understand that I need to get all these things out. I apologize in advance for what I am sure will be a long and rambling post.

The last few days have been full of reminiscences. I had a ten hour drive and no one to share it with both Monday and Thursday. That sure does leave a mind with lots of time to think. This last week has been one of thinking about my priorities in life - my dreams and wishes, and if my heart is really open to following the Lord’s leading. I feel I am in tandem. I want to move forward with my life, but I feel I must deal with some things from my past to do so.

Today while we were playing soccer I sat out the last match because it was getting too dark for me to see well enough to be comfortable. Holly walked up behind me and sat down on the blanket next to mine. For a moment - just one tiny moment - my heart leaped into my chest and all I thought was “Tiffany! I’ve missed you.” Then after that half second of joy, there was the deep gut wrenching pain of realization. Tiffany is gone. She has been for now 6 years. Her son is a beautiful little one with her blue eyes and a reddish tint to his hair.  I don’t know if it was the color of Holly’s hair, or just her posture sitting in the last dieing rays of sunlight, but something made me think she was Tiff for just a moment. I miss my cousin, after all these years I still miss her. I still wish I could make myself go out to her grave, but I can’t. Not yet at least.

Grief is hitting me at last for my dear cousin. I think I’ve been fighting it since I was 18. Maybe not fighting it, maybe I was covering it up under layers and layers of pain and heartache that I wouldn’t admit were there.

And it’s not just grief for her. It is grief for the loss of friends and friendships. It is grief for a loss of innocence. It is a grief that wells up from deep inside and fights its way out of me through tears and poetry and art. It is a grief that grips my heart in the middle of my happiest moments and shatters all pretenses of my having everything all together.

So tonight I am thankful for the evening of laughter that I shared with my friends but I also am embracing my tears. Tonight I let myself cry. In crying I find myself feeling secure in the arms of my God. He knows my pain and He will ease it. Tonight I call on the name of Jesus. I know no other name that can wipe away the pain. I know no other man that has conquered death. I don’t understand this grief. I don’t understand how it can stay so unnoticeable for so long just to rear its head at me again now, but for now I will embrace it. In these dark hours of the morning I will just let my heart be as it wishes to be.

And both are from Wendall.

1. “Your eyes are green - you rotted” (actually they are hazel, but mostly green so I’ll let the slight mistake slide past this time)

2. “When you’re born you’re pink. When you’re sick you’re green. When you die you’re purple. And they say I’m colored.”

After almost 10 hours in the car I am home safe and sound. It was a long road trip to say the least. The “weekend” was long too - meetings with representatives for the KCMSD took up one whole day. In all I was gone 4 days - 2 of those were on the road, 1 was a day of meetings, and 1 was a day that I attempted to relax. I saw good friends, got wise advice, spent a few hours (7 or 8 total) in the prayer room, went out to eat twice (Cheesecake Factory with Jenni B. and some yummy Asian buffet with Victoria), attended The Great Exchange and listened to Stuart teach, learned to play a song on the guitar, meet a couple of the people that I keep up with their wordcasts face to face, etc. This was way too short of a trip - not nearly enough hours were to be found in a day to do everything I wanted to do. I went with a lot of questions - most of those got answered and I came home with a whole new batch of questions. I’m spending some serious time this next week praying about what decision I should make about the round of interviews that are coming up in a few weeks.

I went to summer camp when I was 17 and 18 at Camp Hardtner. Senior High camp was amazing - 8 days of fun outdoor activities, morning prayers, having Communion in the pool, cookies and milk, cabin devotionals before bed, secret buddies, illegal Jolt Cola and practical jokes.

We had this strange tradition of random sung/chanted blessings before meals that ranged from the Doxology to the Mortal Combat prayer to the Kickin’ Chicken to the one that went “God is good, God is great, Let us thank Him for the chicken fried steak.” After afternoon activities and all camp swim we all crowded into the cafeteria absolutely excited that it was going to be chicken friend steak day. By far chicken fried steak and mashed potatoes was just about everyone’s favorite meal. 

At the call to prayer all caps went off and we started the traditional chicken fried steak prayer. It was an echo prayer that ended up sounding something like this:

God is good,
God is good,
God is great,
God is great,
Susan’s bed,
Susan’s bed,
Is in the lake.
Is in the lake.

Susan was just saying the prayer along with everyone as Brandon called it. At the words “Susan’s bed” she turned pale, pale white. Turning around at the words “is in the lake” she was plastered against the plate glass windows that made up the back wall of the cafeteria.

Sure enough, Susan’s bed was in the lake.

Three of the guys on staff had gone into her cabin during afternoon activities and picked up her bed up off the bed frame. They then carried it about 20 yards to the “Poo Lake” and balanced it on two canoes. They shoved those canoes into the lake and let them float.

By the time the Head Counselor and Father Mike made the guilty parties go out into the lake and bring her bed in - her bed coverings and even pillows were drenched. That night she had to sleep in the Vatican.

The next day Susan was not very happy.

I heard she got the guys back on intercession mid summer. I don’t think I want to know what she did to them.

I’m late getting on the road. See you IHOPers soon. I’ll be out of here by 9am and there by 4pm. See you when you wake up.

 Edit: I left Bossier at about 930 and didn’t get there till 730 - I blame it on my inability to do math when I first wake up and the fact that US Highway 71 randomly ends about 100 miles outside of KC and I got so lost.

… Kansas City here I come. In about 36 hours I will see you all!

Thanks to talking to someone I respect  - and a little too much thinking when I should be sleeping - I am beginning to think that need is going to win out over want. I need to be at the Montessori informational meetings - I want a nice leisurely vacation in Kansas City. I know rushing through a couple days in KCMO working with the dept of education won’t be my favorite use of time, but I need to get my foot in the door and find a job.

Job search here is showing nothing up. I’ve never seen so few jobs in my life. Oh what a head ache. I could always go apply for Amy’s job at ECA, but I REALLY don’t want to teach first grade.