Uncomfortably Christian

Truth is, I'm not proud to be an American.

Don't burn me at the stake just yet-- hear me out.  I am so very grateful to live in a free country and to have access to so many beautiful places, so many opportunities.  I have spent a fair share of my lifetime chasing after the American Dream.  I have chased the dreams of having a family, owning a home, having a brand-new top-of-the-line (in my budget-- or even a bit beyond) car.  I have dreamed of having a beautiful house with a white picket fence and children running around.  And, for so long, I became comfortable.  Comfortable in my marriage, in my home, teaching at my alma mater, planning a future life with children, driving my dream car, financially "secure" with loads of debt.  I was living the "dream".  Yet I was empty, I was un-fulfilled.  I was longing for so much more.  According to the American Dream, I should have been content-- yet I was so empty.

American pride has become a huge topic of debate lately.  From Kaepernick's refusal to stand for the anthem  to Trump's call to "Make America great again," it's all about taking back America or re-instilling an America to take pride in.  Majority of Americans are not simply grateful to live in America but prideful to live in America.  This pride causes us to look down upon other countries, to see ourselves as better than the citizens of those countries simply because of where we were born.  What have you or I done to earn the right to be prideful as Americans?  Sometimes I think we take such pride in being Americans that we let patriotism overshadow our call to make the Gospel of Jesus Christ known among the nations.  We won't check our American privilege for the sake of the Gospel.  We sing our national anthem or God Bless America more boldly and passionately than we do songs of worship on Sundays.  We so quickly forget that Christ has not called us to be Americans that happen to be Christian.  On the contrary, He has called us to be Christians that happen to live in America.  We are not identified by our nationality.  We are identified in Christ alone.  He is our Savior.  One can "live" the American Dream, yet be stone-cold dead spiritually.  True living is found in Jesus Christ.  We don't need American pride.  We need Christian humility.

I, for one, am tired of living comfortably.  I'm tired of chasing after the American dream.  I'm tired of having pity party after pity party that life hasn't turned out the way I wanted it to.  As Christians in America, we have only seen a taste of true persecution for our faith.  We live in a country where we are free to worship where and when we want to.  We can boldly proclaim our faith to anyone and everyone that we meet.  We sit in our comfortable pews each Sunday (and/or Wednesday) week in and week out, but do we dare open up our mouths throughout the week and share the beautiful work that Christ has done and is doing in us.  Does our witness leave the church building?  Brothers and sisters around the world are being be-headed for their faith, yet we sit comfortably and can't even so much as strike up a conversation about faith at the lunch table?!

God has been shaking me to the core lately surrounding my comfort.  Truth is, lately, I've been uncomfortable.  God has been revealing things through His Word time and time again that do not line up with the American Dream that I've so often chased.  My flesh wants to be comfortable.  My flesh wants to chase after worldly things rather than to walk in obedience to the life God has for me.  The Spirit has reminded me time and time again that the sacrifices of carnal desires are infinitesimal compared to the eternal weight of glory He has in store (2 Cor. 4:17).  For the cause of Christ, I want to be uncomfortable.  I want to shake off the chains of patriotism and chasing after the American Dream for the sake of the Kingdom.  I want to live my life as a Kingdom Bringer for Christ, not a dream chaser.  May my own dreams and desires blow away life chaff in the wind as I take up my cross and follow Him.

Truth is... Christianity is uncomfortable.  When we walk in obedience, we will not look like the world-- and that's uncomfortable.  Standing up for what you believe in when you're sometimes standing alone is uncomfortable.  Taking up your cross is uncomfortable.  But it's worth it.

He has not called us to live comfortably, friends.  He has called us to follow Him, to make disciples, to make Him known.  Are we living comfortably, or are we taking up our cross and running hard after Him?

To quote one of the most poignant questions posed in the book turned movie Insanity of God:  Is Jesus worth it?

My Life-Changing Summer

As a teacher, I live my life summer to summer.  Instead of the usual January to December calendar that most follow, my brain works on an August to May calendar with two special months of rest included named June and July.  For the past two years, these summer months have brought drastic life changes.

Summer 2014:  tragedy, loss, heartache, pain, destruction, divorce

Summer 2015:  new beginnings, Oxford, fresh start, Pinelake

Summer 2016:  Panama City, Sports Camp, MathCamp, Matamoros, Passion Camp, Kids Camp

All three summers changed my life in their own way.  God has used all three summers to shape me and mold me little by little into who He created me to be.  Every year as we return to school, I get asked the same question... How was your summer?  For the past two summers, that was an easy question.

Summer 2014:  Terrible.

Summer 2015:  Chaotic.

However, this year's answer is so much more complex, yet so simple.

Summer 2016:  Life-Changing.

As I sit in my new house on this last day of July (my last day of summer), and I look back on this summer.  I'm truly speechless.  Through this summer, the Lord has broken me, He has healed me, He has spoken life and victory over me, He has allowed me to witness life transformation, and He has changed my life.  This summer could not have possibly been any more perfect.  The Lord is sovereign in all things, and I'm so thankful that He orchestrated the events this summer in a way that maximized His glory and changed me from the inside out.

Here's a glimpse into all that was summer 2016.

In Panama City, I was able to relax, un-wind, and re-charge with family.  Through this week, the Lord challenged me to put off the frustration, the doubt, the fear, and the stress from the 2015-16 school year and to begin to truly trust and believe that He works all things together for His glory and our good. 

At Sports Camp, I spent three days worshipping, playing, and digging in the Word with this sweet sweet group of Kindergarteners.  We had an amazing time singing and dancing in worship, playing soccer, and just talking about life.  The Lord used this time to show me that the Gospel is simple enough to be understood by Kindergarteners, yet complex and deep enough to bring dead hearts to life, to atone for our sins, to pay our debt, and to bring us into fellowship with God.

At MathCamp, I was given the opportunity to work with 4th and 5th grade math learners to revive their sense of excitement and passion for learning in mathematics.  Through this week, I saw many light bulbs, heard many giggles, saw tons of smiles, and had tons of fun.  Through MathCamp, the Lord renewed the sense of passion for teaching (specifically teaching math) that He instilled in me when I first began teaching in 2012.  He opened my eyes to the fact that each student in that classroom is not just a warm body taking a seat, but a life-- a life that is precious in His eyes and should be nurtured, cared for, believed in, and loved.

Matamoros... Oh, sweet Matamoros... Well, it already has it's own blog, so I'll keep it short and sweet.  In Matamoros, I worked with a God-sent team of people to serve, play with, and care for precious kids at the children's home.  What I thought was a chance for the Lord to use me to change lives, turned out the be the pivotal turning point for the Lord to change mine.  During my week, in Matamoros, the Lord spoke healing and life back into a worn and weary soul.  He took my broken heart filled with guilt, shame, un-worthiness, and defeat, and He spoke the truth of His forgiveness, love, and restoration over me.

In itself, Matamoros was life-changing; however, I truly wasn't prepared for what came next.  When I pictured myself at Passion Camp, I saw myself as a chaperone/small group leader there to serve my precious high school girls and to pour into them.  That happened.  But that's far from all that Passion Camp 2016 was.  In Daytona, the Lord took what happened in Matamoros, the beginning of the healing journey, and He spoke over it, IT IS FINISHED.  It was nailed to the cross.  There is no more shame.  There is no more guilt.  I am not longer a victim of my circumstances or the "hand I've been dealt" but I am a VICTOR in Christ.  I'm not dead.  In Christ, I am ALIVE.  I am not perfect.  But in Christ, I am HOLY.  I am not worthless.  In Christ, I am CHOSEN.  As the Lord, poured my identity in Christ over me, I felt the shackles, the shame, the guilt, the defeat, the expectations, the heartache, flow away.  The Lord replaced these things with an identity rooted in Christ and His character and all that He is.  The girl who felt unworthy to serve the Lord, now was able to stand and walk in victory and proclaim the Gospel boldly for Christ.  As if this newfound freedom and identity were not more than life-changing already, in Daytona, I was also blessed to be given the opportunity to see life change, to see salvation, to see the Lord move and work and to see His name glorified above all else in the lives of 4,000 teenagers and adults.  It couldn't get much better.. could it?? Just wait.

Kids Camp... If I'm honest, going into this week, I was excited, yet apprehensive.  Coming off of two phenomenal, yet tiring trips, moving my apartment into storage, and just life in general had physically and spiritually exhausted me.  I was running on fumes at this point, but, because I made a commitment, I stuck with it.   If Hannah (children's minister) had called and said, "Hey! I need you to stay home", I wouldn't have argued one bit.  However, I prayed for strength, supernatural energy, endurance, and to see the Lord work in incredible ways in and through this camp.  As I prayed, I felt the Lord re-assure me that He had wonderful things in store.  I pushed through the exhaustion and showed up Wednesday to board the bus.  I am so thankful that I did.  This week at kids camp was, again, life changing.  I had an amazing time getting to know a precious group of girls with an extraordinary heart for Jesus.  These little world-changers had an awesome time, worshipped their little hearts out, dug into the Word, and learned so much about the character of Christ and who He is.  This week at camp, we learned that Jesus is... the promise fulfilled, the Lord of Everything, the rescuer, and with us.  Through this week, the Lord taught me that I don't have to have control because He is sovereign and He is in control.  He has rescued me, and He is with me.  These kid-friendly lessons spoke life into me as an adult too.

All in all, this summer has been phenomenal, extraordinary, and life-changing.  I will forever remember summer 2016, and I look forward to all that the Lord has in store for this school year and beyond.

For His glory,

Kayla

Scars

Scars.  We all have them.  Some are publicly seen, and some are hidden deep within.  Whether public or private, each scar has a story to tell.  Behind each scar lies a wound, a deep wound, that likely encompassed lots of pain, lots of tears, and maybe even heartache.

     I have many scars; however, I have one particular scar that seems to be more publicly seen and seems to still radiate pain from time to time.  This scar has a name.  A name that causes unease.  A name that in itself causes pain.  It's name is divorce.  Divorce...  Secularly, this word has almost lost its sting.  It's seen as the always available plan B.  Don't like the person that you married?  "Fall out of love"?  There's always a plan B.  And it's name is divorce.  I'm not here to rant over the secular dilution of the sanctity of marriage and approval of divorce, and, as one who put pen to paper on the pile of legal jargon denoting a "dissolution of marriage," it would seem super-hypocritical at this point.  So, that is not my end.  While, secularly, the word divorce has lost its sting, ironically, in the church, the "D word" is never-spoken.  Time and time again, the church silences those whose stories involve divorce because its uncomfortable.  When the word divorce even comes up in conversation, so many church people get quiet, awkward, and uncomfortable.  If we took the time to listen to the story behind the scar, maybe, just maybe, we would see that so much more lies behind that scar.  When the "D word" comes up, maybe the church shouldn't cower, chastise, and emotionally stone those involved, but maybe we should step-in and fight for the sanctity of marriage alongside the hurting.  Instead of running away from discussions revolving around tough issues like divorce, we should face them head on with the Word of God, pray alongside those whose lives have been wrecked by the devastation of divorce, and seek to love and walk alongside the broken-hearts left behind to heal.  What kind of doctor would leave someone with a gaping wound alone on the operating table to heal on his own just because the doctor did not agree with the act that caused the wound in the first place.  While this has become something that I am deeply passionate about, this is also not my end in writing this blog.

     My end is, however, to address the scar.  The deep-rooted, life-changing scar left behind by the gaping wound of divorce.  One of the hardest parts about facing this wound is that you often feel alone.  You often feel as if you have a massive scar on your arm just underneath your clothes.  While this scar may not be apparent to everyone that you come into contact with, with just a bit of conversation, the heat seems to be turned up, and you pull up your sleeves only to, sometimes accidentally, sometimes intentionally, expose the dreaded scar.  When the scar is exposed, one of two things will happen, those around you will either cower in fear and begin to tip-toe around the scar due to fear of re-opening the wound, or they will immediately begin to try to doctor on and treat the scar and to try to "fix" it to where it cannot be seen so readily.

     Until my recent trip to Mexico, I was attempting to "fix" my scar.  I saw it as a scarlet reminder of past mistakes, past sins, and the dreaded dark days of depression and vast emptiness that came before my life in Christ.  I would wear my long-sleeve shirts to cover the scar, and, as often as possible, I would keep it covered.  However, from time to time, I'd, sometimes willingly, sometimes unintentionally, roll up my sleeves and the awkwardness would set in-- especially in church circles.  In a conversation with some friends just a few weeks ago, the topic of my divorce randomly creeped up and what was a great conversation immediately became placid, dull, and especially awkward.  It shouldn't be this way.  I don't want it to be this way... anyway, my prayer leading into this trip was for God to open my eyes to all that I should see and learn from on this journey.  When I prayed this prayer, I pictured precious little Hispanic children running and playing, and I saw myself working alongside those in need.  I expected to learn about my privilege as an American and how blessed I am to live in such a beautiful well-endowed country.  I expected to be humbled by those that were so content with so much less that what I think I "need" on a day-to-day basis.  And all of these things happened.  Yes, I learned so much from this precious group of people.  But what I didn't expect.. what I never saw coming, was one of the most life-transforming truths I've ever encountered.  God shook me to my very core.  He took all that I thought I had learned over the past few years, turned it upside-down, and exposed me to His truths.

     On our first full day in beautiful Matamoros, Sunday, we sat down before church to have a Bible study with our leader, Blake.  Blake explained that the message that God laid on his heart for this trip was related to abiding in Christ.  We began to walk through John 15.  We discussed what it truly means to abide in Christ, to be connected to Him as our vine, and to be pruned by Him.  As many times as I have heard these verses, and as many sermons as I have heard expositing these verses, I'm not sure that the word prunes has ever stood out to me the way that it did in that moment.

Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. - John 15:2 ESV (emphasis mine)

     When we read and discussed these verses and really dove into the word prunes, we talked about how when a branch is pruned, it is often a painful process, and it will leave a scar.  This painful pruning process is not about punishment, but about refining us to bear more fruit and become more like Christ.  It is for His glory and for our good.  As we discussed pruning, we began sharing stories of how we had seen Christ prune us so that we might bear more fruit.  As I listened to story after story, one word stuck with me... scar.  This one word struck me... and in relation to pruning.  I felt compelled to share my story, and the redemption that occurred following the wound.  And this is where the battle began to rage inside of me.

Share your story.
But, Lord, I don't know these people.  What will they think?  It's a huge mistake.
It's covered in my blood.  My grace is sufficient.
But, Lord, it will get awkward and weird, just like every time before.
Share your story.
But, it will open the scar.  It will show the wound.
Scars should not serve as reminders of past mistakes.  They serve to show wounds that have been healed through Christ alone.  Use your story to show my power and my glory through your healing.

And I did.  I shared-- my story-- and what He was teaching me in that moment.  And I found love. I found comfort.  I found healing.

This was only the beginning of the healing that He had in store for me over the course of this trip.

     Monday night, the Fourth of July, I sat outside feeling the Mexican breeze, listening to the kids' excitement over our fiesta and DOS pinatas!, and talking to the group of people that I was blessed to spend the time serving alongside.  As we sat in the breeze, talking about life... God spoke over me.  Last year, on the Fourth of July, God led me to Oxford in a life-transforming move.  Over this year, He has brought me a solid group of friends, a beautiful church family, a precious mentor, and so many other blessings along the way.  And, as I sat, a solid year later, in an entirely different country, surrounded by new friends, discussing God's providence and redemption... I was floored and overcome with gratitude and praise.  I left the table to watch the children knock out some pinatas.   When I returned to the table, I caught the end of one of my new friend's life story.  He was going along in his story, when I heard that word-- divorce.  I was shocked.  He has a beautiful wife, three beautiful children, and one on the way.  There was no way that this man had ever gone through anything as ugly as divorce, and if he had, how in the world could his life be as beautiful as it was now?!  Then, I caught myself... I was stereotyping.  I was getting awkward.  I was doing the very thing that I was so upset about others doing to me.  Father, forgive me.  So, I kindly asked him to back up and share his story if he didn't mind.  He shared his story from the beginning, and it shook me.  Then, another person in our group shared his story that also included divorce.  He is now happily married with a child on the way as well!  Wow... what are the odds?  God put this team together.  As I listened to their stories, what struck me the most was not so much that others had experienced the same thing as I had as much as it was that God had healed their hearts.  He had taken broken hearts, and mended them.  He had redeemed.  In that moment, God saturated my heart.  That was it.  That was what He was teaching me about my scars.  When I share my scars, when I am open and honest about my wounds and the ways that Christ worked and is working in me and through me to heal those wounds, that is when the healing process truly begins.  While the surface healing has taken place, and it is far from a gaping wound, the scar has formed, and God is working in me to be comfortable is bearing that scar for His glory alone.

   
So, brothers and sisters, bear your scars, roll up your sleeves, share your wounds, tell your story, but most of all, tell of God's redemption and be living proof that all things work together for His glory.  I believe that Louie Giglio said it best when he said, "Why didn't God take away the scars?  Because it was the most powerful story.  Jesus didn't even cover up His scars.  They were healed wounds.  Our scars are a witness to the world.  They are a part of our story.  Healed wounds that are symbols that God has restored us."  This is why we bear our scars-- to share His story of redemption and restoration in our lives!

   



Thank you all for your prayers on my Mexican adventure, they were felt, and they were answered.  May God continue to move in a mighty way on U.S. soil in the same ways that I felt him move in Mexico.

For His Glory Alone,

Kayla

I'm Leaving the Country.

     Next Friday, I am leaving sweet little Oxford.  I'm leaving Grenada.  I'm leaving Mississippi.  I'm leaving all of the comforts, safety, and security of home, and I'm going to Matamoros, Mexico.

     Early last year, after Christ radically transformed my life, I began saying that I felt a strong calling to "go on a mission trip."  I wasn't sure exactly what that would look like, and, aside from a few summer camps, I'd never really gone on a mission trip, much less out of the country.  I began praying about it, and really seeking out what the Lord had for me or what I was being called to, and, in the fall of last year, my eyes were opened wide.  You see, what I took to be a calling to "go on a mission trip" was so much more than that.  God revealed to me through His Word that this was not simply a calling for a trip or a week-long adventure in some foreign country; rather, as my life was transformed last year, He placed a burning desire and passion within me to share the Gospel to share these life-transforming truths to any and everyone that I possibly could.  If Jesus could take a dirty, roughed-up, beaten-down, depressed sinner like me and bring me to life as a new creation in His image, oh, I can't even imagine how He could transform entire groups, cities, states, and nations for His glory!

     Long-story-short, this deep-rooted passion led me to attend a follow-up meeting after Orphan Care Sunday at Pinelake.  At this meeting, we were given information about the various ways to serve and GO to help spread the Gospel of Christ among the nations.  When I picked up the sheet, one trip in particular stood out to me.. Matamoros-- July 1 - 6.  I can't explain why this trip stuck out or anything like that aside to say that I believe God has big things in store.  We will be spending the week serving and working in the Matamoros Children's Home.

     So, that is one-week from today.  One-week from today, I will be getting on a bus for a 12-hour ride to Matamoros, and I could not be more excited.  Well, that was the case until this morning...  This morning, as soon as I woke up, I was flooded with attacks from the Enemy.  "You have one-week to get ready."  "You don't know these people."  "What if they don't like you?"  "What if you lose your passport?"  "What if you get sick?"  "You know what you did yesterday, how you messed up-- how can you share the Gospel when you're a dirty sinner yourself?"  "God can't use you." 

     I was flooded with lie after lie, and, for a moment, I let them sink in.. much deeper than I should have.  When I caught that they were lies from the Enemy, I decided to combat these lies and to seek out the truths from my God in His Word.  As I dug into the Word, the Holy Spirit nudged me... Why are you going on this mission trip?  I gave all of the "reasons" that I had in my heart for going... to love on kids, to share the Gospel, to serve others... But I still felt the nudge... Why?  The Great Commission came to mind.  So, I opened my Bible to Matthew 28:18-20, and this is what I read:

"And Jesus came and said to them, 'All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.  Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.  And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.'"

Boom.  There it was.  Why am I going?  Because I am a transformed child of God, and Jesus has called us to rise up and Go!, to rise up and make disciples of all nations, to teach them to observe Christ's commands.  That's why.  I'm following my Savior.  I'd read these verses so many times.  They are repeated over and over when churches are preparing for mission work.  They were quoted over and over in every David Platt book I've read, but, until this morning, these words had not come alive to me.  They were a command yes, but they were a command for the few that Jesus called into full-time missions-- not for little old me that was going on a mission trip for a week.  

Then, it hit me.  Again.  These commands are for me, and, child of God, they are for you too!  It's not over.  Our job is not finished.  Christ has called us ALL to reach the nations for His glory.  He has not just called the select few.  We are all in this.  So, then, this enormous, daunting command, became real, and apparent to me, and, being honest, this began to scare me to death.  It wasn't until I watched the John Piper video (linked below) that I understood that this command was not isolated.  It is surrounded by promises!  Did you get that?!  I may not have it all together but Jesus has all authority in heaven and on earth, and HE is with us ALWAYS.  Peace.  Instant peace.  No more worrying.  No more stressing.  Jesus, the creator, the Savior, the One who defeated death, He is with us.  He is with me.  That's it.  I'm ready.  No matter what may come, He has won.  He is a shield about me.  He is my protection.  So, I can honestly say, as Paul did from his prison cell in Philippians 4, that I can be content in all circumstances, and I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.

If you have a chance, I encourage you to watch this video as John Piper exposits Matthew 28:18-20-- good stuff.

So, with all of this being said, please keep our team in your prayers as we go.  Please pray for the children and adults that we interact with.  Please pray for lives to be transformed.  Please pray for servants hearts and for direction and discernment.  Please pray for Christ's glory and the Gospel to be proclaimed through our words and our actions.

For His glory alone,

-Kayla

What I've Learned-- Year Four

     

As the final bell rang yesterday, all the feels hit me.  Yet another year has come to a close all too quickly.  Don't get me wrong, I am as ready, if not more ready, for summer, for relaxation, for vacation, for less stress, as anyone else.  I'm ready to have a life outside of being Ms. Golden the math teacher; however, as I heard the students rush down the hall after that final bell, I began to reflect on this school year and all that it has entailed.  To say the least, this school year has been a challenge.  Year four has been the biggest challenge that I've ever had in my four years in the classroom.  From some of the most challenging (but most in need of love) students, to the pressures of full-time grad school and full-time teaching, to the responsibilities of serving with my church, to just trying to balance having a life in general, there were several instances where I felt like this year was going to be the death of me or at least the end of my teaching career.  However, by the grace of God and through His guidance, I have survived, and now I'm standing on the other side of year four looking forward to year five.  As I am reflecting upon this year, I wanted to take note of the many many things that this challenging, but amazing year has taught me.

So, here it goes.. What I've learned-- Year Four:

1)  Mistakes are necessary for progress.

"Failure is success in progress." 

Albert Einstein

     This could quite possibly be the biggest, yet the most ironic lesson that I've learned this year.  You see, all school year, I have "preached" to my students about the power of having a growth mindset and believing that you can improve and grow your brain, especially through making mistakes.  This has become my soapbox throughout the school year.  However, time and time again, as I was teaching a class and things did not go as I had planned or as my students' disruptive behavior became an issue, or I compared my scores/data to other teachers' scores/data, I bought into the lie that maybe I wasn't cut out for teaching after all.  Maybe I was okay when I had the comfortable situation in Grenada, but I could never make it in a real classroom.  Yet, I was still encouraging my students day in and day out to focus on the process and focus on improvement over time and not just a single moment of success or failure-- all while I was focusing on my own failures and short-comings.  It wasn't until very recently when a precious student reminded me that failure is necessary for progress that it hit me square between the eyes-- this year was progress.  While it may have been a year filled with mistakes and times that I have longed for a do-over or two, I have learned more in year four than I have in my previous three years combined, and, the most ironic part is that I've learned these valuable lessons-- not because I succeeded in my every endeavor or because I was hailed as this amazing, all-star teacher, but because I messed up, I got knocked down, I struggled, but I learned.  And, as I've told my students so many times this school year, "Learning isn't easy.. embrace struggle and grow!"

2)  Every day is a new day and the perfect time for a fresh start.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:  The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning great is your faithfulness.  "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him." 

Lamentations 3:21-24

     His mercies are new every morning.  My, oh my, how I have needed this reminder throughout this entire school year.  In a year filled with, as I stated before, the need for more do-overs and apologies than ever before, I am so thankful that the Lord's mercies are new every morning.  I have also learned the power of apologizing (even especially to 12 and 13 year olds) and asking for forgiveness and a fresh start.  I have seen the power of approaching a new day with a positive attitude and a patient spirit.  I have seen radical change in my classroom this year simply through forgiveness and fresh start after fresh start.  I've seen previously labeled "problem students" change for the better simply by being given a second or third or 20th chance.  It's all about patience, respect, and believing in the power of a fresh start.

3)  No man is an island.

"The most valuable resource that all teachers have is each other.  Without collaboration, our growth is limited to our own perspectives."  

Robert John Meehan

    When I left Grenada, I left one of the most supportive, tight-knit, collaborative team that exists.  We worked as a unit-- on everything.  We had truly mastered the art of collaboration and getting the work done and doing what was best for our students.  We worked hard day in and day out for the good of our students, and we managed to take three different teaching styles and create lessons that allowed all students to learn in our individual classrooms.  Then.... someone had to go and mess it all up by moving to Oxford (No idea who that might be. Haha).  So, when I moved, there was an immediate feeling of being on an island all alone-- new town, new grade, new colleagues.  However, I quickly learned that I was not alone by any means.  OMS has a PLC period built into the teachers' schedules where we have a department meeting every day.  Meeting with the entire math department every day for an entire school year has built a sense of community and collaboration within our grade-level team and within the math department as a whole that I am so glad to be a part of.  We discuss plans, we vent frustrations, we share happy moments, we scour the data, we problem solve, but most of all, we support each other.  I have no doubt that these five people have my back, if when something happens in my classroom, or when I get that parent e-mail, or when my plans just don't turn out like I think they should, I know that my math department is there to back me up and to help me figure out the best solution to the problem.  I may be partial, but the math department is totally the best.  Although I have a lifelong friendship with my Grenada peeps (and always will), I am so thankful for my grade-level team and the math department for the awesome sense of community and collaboration that has been built this school year, and I'm looking forward to working with this awesome crew again next year.  We are the definition of #bettertogether !

4)  Sometimes the students that are the hardest to love, need my love the most.

"If kids come to use from strong, healthy functioning families, it makes our job easier.  If they do not come to us from strong, healthy, functioning families, it makes our job more important." 

Barbara Colorose

     Until this school year, I would have told you that I understood the importance of the above statement, yet, in reality, I had no idea.  While I've taught students that have come from some challenging home situations before this school year, I have not had the influx and large majority of "hard to love" students that are not necessarily from the ideal family situation.  This year, I learned the importance of looking past others' perceptions of a student, putting all other opinions and previous experiences to the side, and simply focusing on the needs of the student and how those needs could be met in order to learn most effectively.  If those needs include having a snack, I learned the value of having snacks on hand.  If the needs include an emotional breather in the hallway, I've learned to allow the student to step out and take a breath.  Y'all, seventh grade is tough.  Life as a seventh grader is crazy, out-of-control, confusing, yet we expect them to put all of this craziness to the side and focus on math, English, social studies, science, ICT, and everything else for 8 hours everyday and to do it all quietly?! Oh man, that's asking a lot of such a little, confused person whose wants and desires on anything but academics.  So, moral of the story?  They have need to learn, so how do we combat the seventh grade crazies?  We meet them where they are.  We venture into the craziness, we address it, and we create a learning environment that best meets the needs of the students and allows them to flourish and to learn!  While it has truly taken me all 180 days of the school year to learn this lesson, I now know that with a little patience and whole lot of love, any student can be successful.

     In closing, year four, it's been real.  It's been fun.  And I guess you could even say that it's been real fun.  Here's to 2 more work days, then a relaxing summer vacation filled with reading good books, travel, sleeping late, and all of the Netflix binges that I can possibly take!  Year five, I see you, and I'm ready... well, not yet... but gimme two months, then I got you!

   

Praise God for Dirty Dishes

Some days it's easy to praise Jesus.  When things are going well, when I feel content, when I am happy, when I'm at church and I can block everything else out... praising Jesus comes as easily as breathing.

Truth?  Lately, praising Jesus has been hard.  Life has been stressful to the max.  I feel like I've been running ninety to nothing every day since January 1st, and it has been getting the best of me.

Yesterday, I woke up having a pity party.  As I scrolled through my Facebook newsfeed, I saw tons of people on vacation, tons of wedding pictures, engagement pictures, and just all around happiness.  Happiness that I long for.  Happiness that I desire  covet. (Father, forgive me.)  This was not the Spring Break that I had planned.  I was supposed to be in Matamoros on a mission trip this week.  Due to different circumstances and the sovereignty of God's plan, I am now going this summer instead.  (Thanks to all who have prayed and donated, please continue to pray for the trip in July!)  So, I took a deep breath, rolled out of bed, and continued my pity party as I began to clean my house (my least favorite thing in the entire world).  As I was washing dishes with my praise music blasting, I couldn't help but sing along.  Then, it hit me like a ton of bricks...

These are the moments when it is most important to praise God.  When life isn't perfect, when you're tired, beat down, ragged, and doing your least favorite thing, praise God.  When it seems like everyone else is traveling, getting married, getting engaged, having babies, and you're not, praise God.  When you're struggling in a graduate school class with a professor that seems to be completely unreasonable, praise God.  When you have 20 seventh graders bouncing off the walls and caring less about the math you're trying to teach them, praise God.  When you're 25 and life has not turned out at all like you thought it would, praise God.

So, I continued washing dishes, while praising my Jesus.  As I did, God revealed to me more and more of all of the things in life that I have to be grateful for.  Simple things, like every single dish and piece of silverware that I washed... each item represented a meal that I'd eaten in the comfort of my home-- on dishes, with air conditioner, with electricity, with a roof over my head-- all paid for by the income from the job that I am blessed to have.  Yet, for some reason, I felt the need to have a pity party this morning because I have not been spending the week in some exotic location?  Father, forgive me.  I am blessed beyond measure, and I'm ashamed to admit that it has taken me so long to get that through my stubborn head.

As I sit here today, I'm realizing, however, that it is about so much more than what I'm blessed to have as far as material things go, above all else, even if I had absolutely nothing else in this life, I'd still have more than what I need in Christ.  It's so easy to stand and sing "In Christ Alone" on Sunday, but by Wednesday to live like it's not true...  Oh, Father, forgive me.  May I find my hope, my contentment, my peace, in Christ alone because He is enough.

I pray that I would hang on to that.  One year ago, February 28th, I fully understood that for the very first time.  I finally got that Christ was enough.  He took my punishment.  He paid my ransom.  He set me free.  He restored my relationship to the Father.  Oh, praise God!  And, this year, on February 28th, I sat in my church praising Jesus for the mighty work He's done in me over the past year, and I meant it with all of my heart.  Yet, as I was driving home from church, at a red light (of course!), I checked my email, and I saw 5 parent emails, 3 student emails, and 2 emails from professors.  Bam.  Reality.  And I let it take over.  I let it steal my joy.  Father, forgive me.

Contentment.  It's a funny word.  It's a funny idea, not in the haha type of way, but in the irony that we are all searching for it, but it's only found in one place that we glance at and walk away.  You see, I'm learning more and more that contentment is, always has been, and will always be found in Christ alone.  He is our strength.  He is our hope.  Any other source of contentment will run dry.

"Water from a broken well will make you thirst again." - Jimmy Needham, Dearly Loved (If you haven't heard it, listen now!  It's beautiful!)



HE is the living water-- the well that will not run dry.  Run to Him and you'll never thirst again.  He meets our every need.  HE is enough.  Rest in that.  He loves you dearly, just call on Him.

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." - 2 Corinthians 12:9

- Kayla

2015.

Grace.

If I had to sum up 2015 in just one word, it would be.... grace.

This morning, as I sang the lyrics to one of my favorite worship songs surrounded by a church congregation that I've come to love dearly... "Doesn't matter what I feel...doesn't matter what I see... my hope will always be in your promises to me,"... God spoke through the lyrics of the song and I was wrecked by His unwavering faithfulness and grace.

As the year comes to a close, like so many have before, I have been taking the time to reflect on the year from beginning to end and all that it has entailed.  If I had to pick just one year of my life to tell someone about, it would without question be 2015.  I would not want to tell this story for self-pity, or self-righteousness (there's no such thing - Romans 3:10), or out of pride.  I want to tell this story to show what my God has done for His glory and His alone...

You see, a very little known fact is that on January 1, 2015, I was in the deepest, darkest depression that I've ever been in... I was totally and completely alone.  I had no one that I felt like I could call.  No one that I felt truly cared or loved me unconditionally.  (I now know that that's not true, but at the time, even if you'd told me you cared it wouldn't have gotten into my heart or even my head.  I wouldn't have listened.  I might have smiled.  I might have even responded with an "I know" or a warm hug.  But the darkness, the loneliness, the emptiness was there.  Constantly.)  Oh, but that's far from the point of this story, that's only the beginning.

This year, God has taught me so many valuable life-changing truths that I want to share:

1)  His grace is sufficient. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

When I was at my wits end, when I finally came to the realization that I couldn't do this thing called life on my own was when I saw that Christ had been pursuing me all along.  His grace was sufficient. His power was made perfect in my weakness.  I didn't pray a magic prayer.  I honestly didn't even walk an aisle, but at my seat, where I was, which just happened to be in a sanctuary, I accepted Christ's invitation to die to myself and surrender complete control of my life over to Him, and I've never been the same since.  And the best part is that absolutely nothing that I did or have done would have ever been enough.  It's only by His blood, by His sacrifice, by His ransom, that I have been set free.

2)  Christ is enough. (Philippians 3:7-10)

Oh how I love my worldly treasures.  Oh how I love my worldly people.  Oh how I love, I love, I love, all of these things... but compared to Christ these things are counted as loss, even the most important people in my life.  If tomorrow, everything was stripped away, Christ is and would be enough, and, oh how I pray that that truth is so deeply-rooted in my heart that if/when that happens, I am confident and secure in Christ alone.

3)  Romans 8:28.

ALL things work together.  On January 1st, if you'd ask me what I foresaw happening in 2015, very little of what I would have described could have been characterized as "good."  Honestly, I probably just would've started crying on you and run away screaming (Okay, maybe not screaming, but sobbing for sure).  I didn't understand how anything so devastating, so deteriorating, so ugly, could be turned for good.  I had no idea.  In January, the god (lower-case-g god) that I "knew" (or had created) didn't have a plan.  he (lower-case intentional) couldn't possibly work anything for good; he wasn't even near enough to see me or hear me crying out in the pit.  It wasn't until February when I began to listen that I came face-to-face with the God (big G) of the universe, my creator, that I realized that He had the power to work all things for good if I just trusted Him.  It was at that point that He spoke over me that I didn't have to see the good.  I didn't have to know what was coming.  I just had to trust that His plans are greater, His thoughts are higher, and His ways are perfect (Proverbs 16:9, Jeremiah 29:11, Isaiah 55:8-9, Psalm 18:30).  I let go.  And, let me tell you what I found... grace, grace, God's grace.

This year has been far from perfect.  There have been bumps.  There have been bruises.  There have been points that were truly my breaking point, but the most beautiful part of all of it is that when I reached my breaking point was exactly when it became the most apparent to me that I couldn't do this life thing on my own.  I was never created to do life alone.  I was created for an intimate relationship with my Creator, and it is only by Him and through Him that I live.  

So 2015, you've brought change... huge, drastic, change...

- spiritual change (Jesus rescued me.  Freedom.)

- physical change (God led me away from the town I was born/raised/spent 25 years of my life in to my new home, new friends, a new job, and a beautiful new church family.  Freedom.)

- personal change (Due to primarily the spiritual change, but also in part to the physical change, I found me.  I found who I am in Christ, a formerly hopeless sinner loved and redeemed by an unrelenting, good, good Father.  And when you live life from that perspective, your life can't help but be radically changed and transformed.  You no longer worry about the mundane day-to-day troubles of this world.  You see the world through a completely different lens.  Self is no longer the focus, but rather the focus is to glorify Christ in everything that you do.  Freedom.)

As I compare January 1, 2015, to December 27, 2015, (Almost January 1, 2016) I am brought to my knees and overwhelmed by His goodness, His mercy, and His faithfulness.

And 2016... Here's to the best one yet!

For His glory alone,

KG