An Attitude of Gratitude

Being in a new school for what feels like the umpteenth time in my short teaching career is hard. Being in 3 new schools at once is even harder. Getting to know the staff in your building when you're only there for a partial day once or twice a week is a serious challenge. This is why I'm thankful that one of my buildings does a staff social event once a month. In September it was golfing, so I stepped away from that one. Much to my delight the October gathering was a palette painting event - count me in! About a week before we gathered together, we got to choose our palette stain color and the design that we wanted to paint onto the palette. I chose a gray stain and an inspiring saying about hopes and dreams for the future. I was pumped.

As the gathering got underway, I excitedly waited for my name to be called as the parent who was leading us handed out the palettes with their designs. As the gray-stained wood dwindled down to one, my anxiety kicked in because the letters on the wood were much bigger than the ones in the quote that I had chosen - and I'd quadruple checked the choices that I wrote down because anxiety brain. Well, with that last gray palette, my name was called, and my heart sunk a little. I took it and tried not to let my emotions show, ashamed of what I assumed was my own mistake. And I looked down at the design I'd wound up with:

"Gratitude is the Best Attitude"

Irony, right? I generally don't like to focus on gratitude. Too many times it's a concept that gets shoved in my face when my mental health is crumbling and someone says, "Well, you can at least be thankful that..." as they ask me to stuff my negative feelings somewhere deep inside where they won't have to deal with them. I see unhappy emotions as healthy and normal. To ignore them usually means that they explode later; to allow yourself experience them helps you to process and move on (and generally move on much more quickly than trying to convince yourself that they don't exist). So when someone tells me to have gratitude, I usually respond politely while internally wanting to scream at them to shove it.

So there I stood in a classroom staring at my "Gratitude is the Best Attitude" design. I'd been so looking forward to the socializing and the painting. I didn't want it to be ruined by getting a design that I wasn't particularly excited about. And then I thought "Maybe this is a God thing of something that I need to work on." So I enjoyed the social time, and I relaxed with the painting. Lots of people commented on how much they liked the design, and I smiled and nodded, half ignoring them in my head, focusing only on the fact that they loved my color choice (navy blue paint to go with the gray stain - inspired by Minnesota Lynx colors). On the bright side, it turned out that having mostly big letters made the process a lot easier than having lots of small ones like the design I'd originally chosen. All in all, it was an enjoyable evening, and I brought home a piece of wall art that's at least very pretty (though, since I live in a friend's townhouse, I literally have nowhere to hang it).

My final painted palette artwork

Just one day before the paint and palette event, I'd signed myself up to do a "Gratitude Challenge" through my district's wellness program. The goal was to write down three things we're grateful for each day for the month of November with no repeats for the entire month. I'm not always a fan of wellness challenges, but this one seemed easy enough to accomplish without having to rearrange my daily schedule. The timing of these two occurrences seemed appropriate.

So on November 1st I started. I initially struggled coming up with 3 things, but had more than that by the end of the day. As the month passed, I discovered it an asset that I'm such a detail-oriented person, which made the "no repeats" rule a fairly easy one to follow. I also latched onto a "30 Days of Gratitude" graphic posted by a distant cousin on Facebook as a tool for inspiration.

 
I didn't expect anything to change by the end. I figured it was an easy wellness challenge to participate in, but I didn't think it would change my daily train of thought or my outlook on life. We were asked to take a gratitude quiz at the beginning of the month and again at the end of the month then report how much our score changed. On Day 1, my score was 61/105. On Day 20, I took it again (because I like taking quizzes and seeing what they say about me), and I was shocked to see that my score had jumped to 70/105. By Day 30, it had risen to 75/105. By the end, I could believe the continued rise in score.

Because it wasn't just the scores and general life outlook that changed. I spent the final week of November dealing with a torn-apart house after the washer overflowed, flooding much of the upper floor and creating a waterfall into the kitchen below (or so my roommate tells me as I was at work when disaster struck). Through the whole ordeal, I found myself continually thinking about how grateful I was about all the ways it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

I have to admit, I'm a little annoyed that it was successful - mostly just because I don't like being wrong. But I've also decided to continue the endeavor now that the month of November is done. For now, I'll continue writing in the little journal I was given for use in the official Gratitude Challenge at work, but when that fills up, I've got a "Blessing Jar" that I made at my church's November Women's Ministry event that I'd like to fill with pieces of paper from each day. I've also decided to be less strict about the "You can only write it once" requirement - mostly because I'm thankful for my things like my friends, family, and Shutterfly much too often to restrict them to only being written down once.

So here, one month later, are the resulting lists from my gratitude journal (Note: Names have all been removed with the exception of Peter, Sakari, Nutmeg, and Triton who are dogs because, at least to my knowledge, they don't have the ability to read and probably wouldn't mind me talking about them anyway):


Wednesday, November 1, 2017

• Facebook "likes" and comments that remind me that my friends are watching out for me even when I don't get to see them as often as I'd like
• Parents who are willing to share their imperfections
• Seeing a student who's been trying but struggling to follow classroom expectations successfully self-monitoring himself today
• Grown-up friends who invite me to do things with them
• My rusty old van that still has a cassette player that lets me listen to old Donut Man tapes. 

Thursday, November 2, 2017

• Not having to work until 12:25pm, so I get to do my weekly PLC (professional learning community) Google Hangout meeting from my couch in comfy clothes with a snuggly puppy dog at my side
• Hitting a productive streak at work for the first time in over 2 weeks
• The scent of vanilla because it's relaxing and decreases my anxiety levels
• Getting to start my 2-months stretch of watching Christmas movies on Hallmark Channel
• Finding a Hershey's Cookies 'n' Mint candy bar for the first time since my early childhood
• Managing to get home by 6pm even after an extra long commute and a stop at Walmart

Friday, November 3, 2017

• Heidi-Peter snuggle time in the morning
• The color green because it's mood-brightening
• Big, white, fluffy, magical snow that brings the first exciting snow of the season because the whole world looks magical
• The new winter boots that I bought last year because they're super comfy and warm (and also pretty, but in a very simple way)
• Making it through the craziness of slippery roads and non-functional stoplights (at multiple intersections) without any mishaps.

Saturday, November 4, 2017

• Campbell's Chunky Spicy Chicken Quesadilla Soup with tortilla chips - best at-home version of chips and queso that I've ever found
• An evening with the house to myself so that I had time to sit down and play piano for the first time in months (also that I didn't seem to have lost a ton of skill given how long it's been since I've played)
• Discovering that a blog post I'm particularly proud of that didn't get a ton of views when I first posted it got 20+ views today

Sunday, November 5, 2017

• Finding a comfort level with my church small group for the first time
• Having a very enjoyable rehearsal and not feeling anxious like I was last time (when anxiety brain spent the whole time telling me I was awkward and unwanted)
• Being greeted with the words "I would come give you a hug, but I'm sick" the moment I walked in the door for rehearsal (both for the intended hug and the desire to keep me healthy)
• My voice holding out through rehearsal - including the song where I sang the Soprano 1 part
• Starting to feel confident enough to at least kind of sing out when I'm on a part by myself
• The sound of silence on my drive home after rehearsal (because introverted me needed it)
• Konop Meats (of Stangleville, WI) for making the most awesome flavored brats ever. (Seriously, the Honey BBQ Brats totally hit the spot tonight)

Monday, November 6, 2017

• My 4th Graders who are awesome and help me survive the day
• Being of an age where I grew up with quickly-changing technology so that I both was taught how to use it and learned how to figure out what I wasn't taught on the fly
• The opportunity to connect with an old friend
• Pretty-colored leaves that make fall the most beautiful season

Tuesday, November 7, 2017

• Chipotle queso because my Chipotle burritos are no longer too dry
• Sleeping in for the first time in weeks
• The memories of going to Disney World when I was 5 when everything there was magic (and the tracks under the ship in Peter Pan's Flight disappeared and we were FLYING)

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

• The Kingdom Keepers book series for bring me to Disney World when I can't afford a trip there
• Shutterfly - which may become my new hobby for the time being
• The crazy neighbor didn't ring the doorbell at all today
• That Peter likes his birthday present toy

Thursday, November 9, 2017

• Waking up on time despite the fact that my phone battery died leaving me without an alarm
• Relatively calm Kindergarten classes today
• Managing to get home from work before 5pm
• Disney World for being a magical, low-stress place to vacation
• The energy and motivation to write for the first time in a few days

Friday, November 10, 2017

• Didn't have to kick any Kindergartners out of music class today
• My behaviorally challenging 1st Grader who ROCKED his rhythm performance assessment
• The taste of chocolate - so needed it after what felt like a very long week

Saturday, November 11, 2017

• Veterans who sacrifice their time and livelihoods to help keep our country safe
• A roommate who was willing to deal with the crazy neighbor lady so that I didn't have to
• A sudden burst of energy to make a small dent in my 3 rooms worth of clutter
• The holiday of Easter because it literally changed the way the world operates
• That I've gotten good enough at the shape-by-shape puzzle game that I got through the whole design deck without needing a hint
• The random glitch in Candy Crush Soda Saga that gave me basically every power-up imaginable all at the same time allowing me to power through a bunch of levels

Sunday, November 12, 2017

• Having a dad willing to join me on errands I should technically run alone just so that I could have some company
• That Sakari has settled into a snuggly companion rather than the "Monster Dog" that she sometimes was in her younger years
• Having a mom who is willing to help trim dog toenails
• Having a friend whose support I greatly value tell me to text her anytime after I expressed my rough anxiety night via Facebook status
• The texture of dog fur. Especially Nutmeg fur - which, as it turns out, is the same texture as kangaroo fur

Monday, November 13, 2017

• The insane moment of courage it took to text a friend and ask for prayers as I attempted to not have a panic attack sitting in my van in the school parking lot
• Peace that surpasses all understanding because I felt calm even when it seemed that everything that could go wrong did go wrong today
• The ability to problem-solve when technology doesn't work as expected
• That when my school laptop crashed it finally decided to start connecting to the school district servers
• Hershey's Peppermint Bark Bells candy
• The many awesome varieties of tea that I bought at Disney World and finally get to enjoy now that it's cold out

Tuesday, November 14, 2017

• Being down to fighting just one cold instead of two
• Finding the strength (and inspiration) to start a blog post that I've been considering for a while but too afraid to write
• Getting my first couple of Shutterfly projects ordered using freebie offers
• The sight of old photos that bring back great memories

Wednesday, November 15, 2017

• Managing to get everything prepped in time after having to start from scratch when my school laptop crashed and all my files from this year disappeared
• The opportunity to make my school song index better when redoing it after losing the original file
• The joy of watching dance
• The season of fall because weather is perfect for time outdoors. Also, changing leaf colors are gorgeous.
• Actually catching a Timberwolves game from beginning to end (I keep forgetting when they play)

Thursday, November 16, 2017

• The smoothness of unexpectedly introducing rhythm sticks to a Kindergarten class when I couldn't get my school laptop to connect to the projector
• My Kindergarten jokers being focused for the first time this year
• A night of reflection and fellowship with Women's Ministry at church
• My body's ability to naturally clear out clogged airways so I can keep breathing even when I'm sick
• Getting literally mobbed by Kindergartners who want to hug me generally at least once each week

Friday, November 17, 2017

• All five of my classes being focused and eager to learn today (especially with tougher content)
• The cancelled lockdown drill at school
• Enjoyable Roomie Girls' Night
• My roommate locking the door (which I'd forgotten to do) within about 5 minutes of the crazy neighbor trying to open it when we didn't answer the door after the doorbell rang
• The knowledge that there are people in my life who have my back even when I feel ridiculous for feeling overwhelmed, depressed, and/or anxious
• Jet's Pizza for their Aloha BBQ Chicken Pizza and their cinnamon sticks dessert (extra buttery flavor = best cinnamon-based baked good ever)

Saturday, November 18, 2017

• Finding the two scarves I've been looking for (which still feels miraculous given that I've torn apart the pile they were in at least half a dozen times in the last week alone)
• Friendsgiving for reminding me that my choir friends are indeed family that love me, accept me, and want to have me around
• For finding a sense of comfort at Friendsgiving after spending most of the day with such bad anxiety about it that I was ready to jump out of my skin and/or burst into tears at any given moment. Also that my comfort level was that of spending time with friends that I've known for at least a decade rather than just the 1-2 years I've actually known them
• Seeing the friend in charge of turkey freaked out and concerned about how it would turn out because they're usually super confident about everything and seeing their worries made me feel better about all my insecurities before Friendsgiving that afternoon.
• The Friendsgiving pre-meal prayer that expressed thanks for so many of the things that I'm also thankful for with that group of friends
• Getting to share the Kansas concert with my dad - as enjoyable as the music itself was, knowing how special it was to my dad to share the experience with me is my most treasured memory from the event
• Finding people who have the same Dancing with the Stars opinions as I do
• The art of photography for capturing memories to relive later. Also for its ability to capture the heart and soul of people through photos

Sunday, November 19, 2017

• That I go to a church where time isn't a strict constraint so that when I walked into worship a little late, so did lots of other people (and the service had also started a few minutes late)
• For tea helping expand my vocal range to include the high notes I needed for choir today
• For the bravery to actually thank the friend who's been the core of my support system for the last week
• For Minnesota Lutheran goodbyes that stretch time spent with friends just a little bit longer
• For the opportunity to go to a Timberwolves game for free at the newly-renovated Target Center
• For the urge I had to go literally lean on a friend's shoulder (even though I didn't actually do it) and for wanting to thank a friend with a hug because it's been a long time since I've trusted anyone, much less a group of people, enough to actively invite them into what's been an ever-increasing personal bubble over the last 8-ish years

Monday, November 20, 2017

• Having a productive enough morning that I actually had time to breathe before having to teach
• Having dealt with enough copier paper jams to know how to problem-solve to fix one (and to help the person whose job was printing when it jammed)
• The wave of relief that hit the moment I got home and realized that my 6-day Thanksgiving Break had started (also that I lucked out, and my weekly day off fell on the second day of my district's 2-day week providing 6 straight days off)
• The art of dance because wow. Simply beautiful. (Dancing with the Stars finale - Jordan and Lindsay rocked it again, but Lindsey and Mark - just wow!)
• Note: Today's 30 Days of Gratitude Prompt was "Who in your life are you grateful for?" Below is my very long list. 
• A loving God - the Father who creates all things, the Son who died that I might live, and the Holy Spirit who works through my everyday life
• My parents who have always shown me unconditional love, even when it was hard (seriously, I was a horrible child when I was young)
• Roommates who manage to put up with my endless amounts of clutter
• The college friends who were around for some of my toughest mental health stretches and chose (and still choose) to reach out rather than desert me
• The colleagues at the first elementary school where I worked who restored my sense of confidence in my teaching abilities when I was ready to give up
• The family found at the first church home I found as an adult who, though now scattered, helped my faith grow in ways I'd never imagined possible
• For my choir family who, as individuals or as a group:
• Manage to both validate me and challenge me to grow in the same sentence
• Push me to grow in my faith and holds me accountable
• Encourage me to try new things
• Believe in me as a leader when I don't believe in myself
• Welcomed me from Day 1
• Tried to make sure that other members didn't scare me away at the beginning
• Check in on me at rehearsals
• Force me to become more of a leader as a singer
• Is there with words or actions of encouragement when I'm feeling down on myself (even when I haven't expressed it verbally)
• Find commonalities in ways that we struggle so that I don't feel so alone when life gets rough
• For the former teacher of mine whose importance in my life cannot be described. For her impact as a teacher, a mentor, a colleague, and a person who also deals with anxiety
• For the friend who has known me since the day she was born and still chooses to stick around
• For my church small group for their excitement each time they see me at church
• For all the family friends who served as my non-biological family growing up

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

• Getting to spend puzzle time with my mom
• That the puzzle I designed on Shutterfly turned out awesome
• That my 1st ever personal Shutterfly order (a 16"x20" collage poster commemorating my Disney World trip from last spring) turned out even more awesome than I imagined
• That one of my favorite Dancing with the Stars pros won her first Mirrorball Trophy - and how fun it was to see how excited all the other pros were for her
• The song "Does Anybody Hear Her" by Casting Crowns because it changed the way I look at people in the world around me

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

• The times I've done baking with friends because they make it way more fun than doing it alone
• Couches that bring serious comfy relief after standing in the kitchen baking for 5+ hours
• That cooking is more essential to survival than baking because the art of cooking is fun whereas the science of baking stresses me out
• The story of Frozen because of how it reflects my journey with Social Anxiety Disorder
• The welcomed use of my parents' washer and dryer because they work so much more quickly and efficiently than the ones at my house (laundry literally goes 3x faster)

Thursday, November 23, 2017

• My aunt and uncle's new house having a more convenient fenced yard so the dogs can play outside without people having to be outside with them
• The ability to take a much-needed 3-hour nap
•  The tradition of staying home and having a super low-key day on Christmas with just my immediate family, which eliminates the pressures of travel and living up to other peoples' expectations of holiday behavior

Friday, November 24, 2017

• That my dog was well-behaved at my aunt and uncle's (with the exception of the times that the cat decided to torment him)
• That some alone time followed by caffeine cured my headache
• The challenge of often being shifted into alto in choir the last couple of years because it's enhanced my ability to harmonize by ear (which has been useful when I've been sick and singing lower than my normal voice range over the last 7 weeks - there have seriously been times when I've started singing harmony to songs and thought "Whoa, where did that come from?" because it's so different than the harmonies I've sung before, sometimes even to the same songs)
• My cousin wanting to claim the entirety of the portion of cookies that I brought for Thanksgiving because I still have 62 of them at home and didn't need any more leftovers

Saturday, November 25, 2017

• Having a high school student council president who is not only organized enough to throw a 10-year class reunion but a natural host enough to make everyone feel welcome and comfortable
• A class reunion dress code of "Where what you want - comfy, fancy, or sweats - we just want you to come!"
• A friend who was willing to meet me at our class reunion so that I could experience it without feeling awkwardly alone (since most of the high school friends I talked to saw no point in going)
• For the amusing moment this week when, upon hearing that I'm planning to move before next school year, one friend declared that I should move in with another mutual friend (who was also in the room). Not because it's necessarily an absurd idea, but because the one friend decided it for the other two of us. I'll admit that you maybe had to be in the room and/or in my brain to understand why I found it so amusing, but the thought of that moment had me smiling all week.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

• Living close to my parents so that it wasn't a huge inconvenience to go back home to get the laptop I'd forgotten to bring with me
• That the dogs have settled enough that I could leave them loose rather than kenneling them for the half hour it took me to run home and grab my forgotten laptop
• That Zoo Tycoon acted as an effective stress/anxiety distraction today
• The motivation to at least put away all the clean laundry that lives in my dresser
• For writing and its ability to clear my mind and share important stories and valuable lessons with other people

Monday, November 27, 2017

• Having both my classes be extremely well-behaved today (especially after a long weekend)
• Easy traffic for my morning commute
• A smartphone because it has useful apps like mood trackers and games that provide anxiety distractions

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

• That, when the washer leaked water both upstairs and through the ceiling to downstairs, it was mostly just the house (which is fixable) and not personal items (which are less fixable/replaceable) that got damaged
• That The West Wing serves as a good anxiety distraction, balancing good story with some light-heartedness
• Somehow managing enough energy to do essential de-cluttering/reorganizing/moving of stuff upstairs so that we could use work to dry out the floor
• The moment today when a sub complimented me on a good job teaching, especially given how wiggly the kids were with having a sub
• That my 3 challenging kids in one class all had a good day on the same day
• That my roommate was home and discovered the overflowing washer fairly quickly after it had started leaking
• Getting the official Facebook event invite for a Christmas Girls' Night with friends because I needed something to look forward to after a very trying evening

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

• That on non-Fridays, my Kindergartners that I've usually had on Fridays act like little humans and not some sort of insane creatures
• That my parents live close so that I could escape from the house disaster area for an evening (and in particular so that I could give anxious dog Peter a break from the chaos)
• Triton snuggling close on the couch, which he hasn't done since he was a puppy
• That my dad brought dinner and comfort food home for me this evening
• For the friend from college who gets the whole crappy-mental-health part me me (and who sends me random funny pictures to make me smile one those bad days)

Thursday, November 30, 2017

• Hearing from the classroom management coach that I did lots of things right with my tough 5th Grade class today (especially considering that one usually chill student almost physically attacked a classmate that was being obnoxious)
• Getting an unexpected but much-needed supportive text from a friend when I was in tears during my lunch break. And learning that that friend has had a rough week as well because it makes me feel less alone
• That the upstairs of the townhouse is all dried out
• The skills of remaining calm on the outside even when I'm panicking on the inside because apparently it helps other people stay calm, too
• The 7-month medical leave that provided me with anxiety coping skills and since which I've been able to bounce back from bad anxiety periods a lot more quickly than I did before taking a leave
• Finally not being sick anymore after 8 weeks and two different colds

Claiming Identity

I've recently had conversations with a friend about our struggles with identity. We have both spent much of our lives living for other people - seeking to fulfill the expectations that others have for us and our lives. Trying to live up to other people's expectations for us has meant that when we fail along those paths we don't handle the rejection well - both experiencing periods of depression that leave us non-functional for stretches of time. It's difficult to be a star peg and try to stuff yourself into a square hole - cutting off pieces of yourself and still not fitting. As I learned more about her struggle, the pain that she's dealt with as she realized that she has no clue who she is, I began to feel a sense of guilt. You see, in my heart, I've known who I am and what my life's calling is for much of my life - I've just often been too afraid to fulfill it.
I still remember that late November day during my junior year. When the intercom announcement was made for all students to start the day in their advisory classroom rather than in 1st Hour. The whole student body was abuzz and tension filled the air. We knew that we were about to get big news, and we figured it wouldn't be good. I tried to brush aside the whispered speculations surrounding me in the hallways. How often was high school gossip actually correct anyway? As soon as the final morning bell had rung, the announcement was made: my high school choir director had died. I was filled with shock and grief but wouldn't allow myself to go down to the media center, where grieving students had been directed to go if needed, because I didn't believe that I'd been close enough in his inner circle to be allowed to join the grieving of students who had been more involved in choir and musical theater productions. After sitting through my Advisory and 1st Hour classes in tears, feeling as though all eyes were on me, it was a relief to enter the choir room.
It certainly wasn't a normal class day. The room was filled with adults part of the district's crisis team who were there attempting to comfort us and failing horribly. It took our student teacher asking if we wanted to sing to start bringing us together. We went through the music that we were working on for our January conference festival, and when we reached the end of those selections, someone asked if we could sing the piece that had been sung the Spring prior for graduation - an arrangement of Wicked's "For Good." The student who had accompanied the piece went into the music library and reemerged shortly thereafter with the music triumphantly in her hand. She sat down at the piano, and the rest of the choir instinctively moved from our assigned spots to gather closer together around the piano as well, and we sang. In that moment, together as a group, we began to heal. I'd always loved music, but I'd never before experienced its healing power. And that is the moment that I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life teaching music.
I don't think anyone took me seriously. Since 8th Grade, I'd declared to anyone that asked that I wanted to be a math teacher. I'd spent part of my sophomore year in high school considering teaching music instead, but I didn't really take it seriously until that moment singing around the piano during my junior year. I didn't know that I wanted to drop the math completely - job security and all - so I figured I'd plan for a double major and dual licensure. As I shared these plans with people, I could swear that people stopped listening after I listed the math half. "A female math teacher," they said. "There aren't enough of those. You'll be so marketable." Others said, "Oh, math, they'll never get rid of that. You'll always have a job." And even those who didn't focus on my great prospects would hone in on the math side of my identity, "Oh, you must be really smart. I'm so bad at math." If people said anything about the music they said, "Oh, well, music is getting cut everywhere these days. At least you'll always have math." More often, though, they ignored the music side altogether. They didn't need to express disapproval; the omission of any response at all was objection enough.
When I got to college, music continued to draw me in, but being a music major left me feeling out of place. I loved my music coursework and activities, but socially I felt like a fish out of water. They had a wider variety of music experiences, a narrower definition of what was "real music," and a vastly greater talent than I did. My math peers, on the other hand, were much more like the friends I'd grown up with; they felt familiar and comfortable. I chose to hold on to my music dreams but immersed myself in the world of the math people. When I chose partway through my college career to take a leap of faith and try to integrate myself within the music group, I had the best semester of my life - until it blew up in my face (because music people can be very fickle). After losing the favor of my music peers, I lost all confidence in my music side. The differing levels of affirmation I received in my two student teaching experiences didn't help. By the time I went searching for my first teaching job I was confident of this: I was passionate about teaching music but not good enough to get hired, and, though teaching math often left me feeling overwhelmed and crabby, I was good enough at it to actually get a job. When my first offer was for a high school math position, I took it.
My first few years of teaching were a roller coaster. That first position landed me in a community and school environment that I loved (and, bonus, put me in the same building as a long-time teaching mentor); yet when I ran errands during my prep, I often found myself lingering by the choir room, listening to the music being made, and longing to be a part of that experience. As that first position was only guaranteed for a year, I found myself searching again and only ever got interviews for math positions. I took what I could get and, though I no longer regret it because of how it indirectly led me to some amazing experiences and people, a part of me knew deep down that it wasn't to be my final fit.
When I finally, in what felt like some crazy luck, landed my first music teaching position, I was ecstatic. It didn't take me long into my first experience as an elementary music teacher to realize that I'd found my calling. I was heartbroken, then, when for reasons beyond my (and my principal's) control, I was forced to leave. I tried to remain positive, applying for as many elementary music positions in my metro area as possible. I even signed up for a graduate level course focused on teaching elementary music where I found more success than I'd ever imagined. But then I faced rejection after rejection following elementary music interviews, and I felt worse and worse. I'd just found my calling, and yet no one wanted me. I began to lose faith in myself. After a fruitless summer of job-hunting, I settled for a middle school music position that at least kept me in the same school district I'd taught in the year before. My parents, who remembered the many years I'd spend hours in my room playing "choir director" were thrilled that I was finally getting the opportunity to fulfill my childhood dream. I didn't have the heart to tell them how much their enthusiasm stung - I had discovered a new dream of teaching elementary music, and it hurt to feel like I had to give it up. I went into another year trying to be the image of perfection in a place that wasn't the fit I needed it to be. As I continually failed to live up to other people's expectations, I felt more and more worthless, more and more hopeless. And though it wasn't where I felt I was meant to be in the long-term, I felt destroyed when my position was cut once again.
I resolved to take a leap of faith and approach this job hunt differently. Rather than applying for every job in the area that my licensure allowed me to teach, I applied almost exclusively for elementary music positions. I'd discovered the joy of working in a job where I fulfilled the vocation that I was created to fill, and I didn't want to go another year trying to make myself fit into a different role. After another long summer of searching, I finally landed an elementary music teacher position.
It's taking a lot of continued faith in God's ability to provide for my life as I teach a 0.41 FTE load (approximately 2/5 time for those of you outside the teaching world), barely qualifying for insurance which eats up a third of my already small paycheck. But I'm the happiest I've ever been in a job, and it seeps into the rest of my life.
I always thought that the hard work of life was supposed to be discovering who you were and what your purpose was. No one ever told me how difficult it can be to step into that role once you've found it. The introspective me has known who I am for years; having the confidence to claim my identity has been a whole different issue. It's taken the daily challenge of having trying to have confidence that I'm good enough to do this job. It's taken a lot of faith that, so long as I'm fulfilling what I'm being called to do, God is going to provide a way for me to do it. But even on the toughest days, it's worth it. In finally claiming this identity, I find joy even when faced with stress. When my colleagues learn that I'm teaching in 3 different schools in a position that still adds up to less than half time and that in all 3 schools I have to teach on a cart (bringing music supplies in to teach in the students' regular classroom rather than them coming to me in a music classroom), they express their deepest sympathies at the difficult conditions that I face; without hesitation, my response is always that it's worth it because I get to teach elementary music, which is exactly where I want to be - where I believe I'm meant to be. It's been a long road to get here, but in claiming the identity of my vocation, I'm the happiest I've ever been. And for that, I will be forever thankful.

Things Anxiety Brain Tells Me

In the time that I spent in mental health treatment programs a few years ago, they encouraged us not to include our disorders as part of our identity - the most common example they used was that you wouldn't say "I am a broken arm" when you break your arm. I prefer to compare my experience with anxiety to my dad's experience with Type 1 diabetes. Being diabetic is an everyday part of his life, and he's spent much of the last 30 years thinking almost continually about what he must do to keep healthy given his extra health challenges - how much insulin he needs given what he's eaten or will eat or his activity level, continually being aware of any signs that his blood sugar levels are rising or falling, in his pre-insulin-pump years even determining for him what times of day he was allowed to eat. Being diabetic does not define him, but it is continually a part of his life. Having social anxiety disorder does not define my identity, but it is a part of me.

One of my greatest accomplishments in the last few years has been learning to separate the two parts of my brain: rational brain and anxiety brain. Separating the two doesn't mean I can make the thoughts from anxiety brain (or the resulting physical symptoms) magically disappear - but it does allow me to find confidence in knowing that those thoughts will eventually pass and the things that rational brain tells me are true will still be there restore my sense of security and self-worth.

Dealing with anxiety brain is a daily battle - though the topics tend to shift depending on how much control anxiety brain is asserting on a typical day. So to give you a picture of what it's like to battle anxiety brain on a daily basis, here are some of the things that anxiety brain likes to tell me:

• My van is not actually locked until I've checked the doors a few times. And once it's locked, my keys are definitely inside it and not in my pocket, which I've already checked half a dozen times.

• I most definitely am not going to wake up to my alarm in the morning, especially on days that it is essential that I do so. I get the feeling that this is why I tend to wake up 30-60 minutes before my first alarm goes off each day. And possibly why I can't manage to sleep in on the weekends and for most of the summer no matter how late I stayed up.

• On days that I am scheduled to be somewhere that is not part of my routine, I have shown up on the wrong day at the wrong time at the wrong place. I recently met a friend for lunch and checked our Facebook Messenger conversation for the details of our lunch date at least a dozen times in the hours before meeting her - including about 3 times while sitting in the restaurant parking lot - and wasn't convinced I was at the right place at the right time until I walked into the restaurant and saw her already at a table waiting for me.

• If I make a mistake on an official form/paperwork that involves the government or making a purchase, I will get arrested and go to jail for fraud for the rest of my life. This is why I quadruple check the information I've given on every official form I ever fill out and every purchase I make online.

• My email inbox, when unchecked for any period of time, is holding some earth-shattering email of someone who thinks I'm an awful person or a failure. This goes triple when it's my work email account.

• I've forgotten to do something that I was supposed to get done. The to-do list I made is clearly missing an essential task that I've forgotten. This happens to me on a daily basis, particularly in regards to what I need to have done to teach.

• I'm going to get cut/fired any time I am anything less than a perfect teacher. People tell me that they are there to help, but if anyone in power finds out that I need that help, it's a strike against me, and my teaching contract won't be renewed at the end of the school year. The fact that this is my 6th year of teaching and I'm my 5th different teaching position doesn't help - even though I'm told that most of the times I wasn't hired back were not based on my performance as a teacher (I only have faith that that statement was true once).

•  When people who were having an audible conversation suddenly drop their voices to a whisper, they are most definitely talking about me and my failures and/or imperfections. Or if people are having a conversation in general about being annoyed with someone or judging someone, they are most definitely talking about me and my failures and/or imperfections. This goes double if I'm at work.

• I cannot hold a decent conversation. I come off as awkward. My interests aren't normal. I get intense when I should be calm, and I'm passive when I speak up. People walk away happy to get away from the weird person I am.

• When I have new friends and would like to get to know them better, reaching out to make plans or just to see how their day/week is going will be seen as clingy/obsessive behavior that will drive them away.

• I make up friendships in my head. Most people that I consider friends, particularly those that I've known for less than a decade and/or that I don't talk to frequently, merely tolerate my presence (or invite me out of some obligation) hoping that I'll someday realize that I'm the awkward girl that no one wants around and will stop tagging along. This feeling is amplified by a factor of at least 10 if it's a person or group that I have a high level of respect for. Seriously - in a recent bad anxiety stretch I was looking forward to spending an afternoon with friends who have expressed numerous times in recent months how glad they are to have me around, and when I got there I spent the entire time convinced that they didn't actually want me there.

•  If I reach out to people when I'm having a bad anxiety stretch, they will find me to be a burden and a nuisance. Even the ones who have told me I should reach out - actually, especially those ones. That my bad anxiety stretches aren't actually bad enough for other people to recognize them as being bad, and that they'll think I'm dumb for feeling so awful.

• I'm not a good enough Christian - that some aspect of my faith or how I practice it isn't good enough and will keep me out of heaven.. Even though I've been Lutheran all my life where they preach grace-based salvation. This is not helped by the fact that the same Bible passages can be interpreted a dozen different ways by a dozen different reputable Christian leaders, and I can't figure out whose interpretation is the right one. For instance, the study book my church small group is reading right now took my "Jesus spent time alone, so it's okay for me to take time for myself" belief that's encouraged me to prioritize self care and turned those same passages into "Jesus only ever took time away from people to pray, so if you spend time not building relationships with people, you have to spend it building a relationship with God by reading your Bible or praying, otherwise you're a selfish, unloving person." (Cue 2am anxiety meltdown).

•  To spend any time for myself is a completely selfish action. Self-care is the most selfish concept ever and is an entirely worldly, un-Christian construct made up by Godless psychology experts. I should be spending all my time focused on the needs of the people around me or on deepening my faith.

• All my hopes and dreams for the future - for a family and for my career - are completely delusional. I am doomed to wind up alone and to drift from one teaching position to another because no one actually wants to stick around me for that long.

• It is only a matter of time before the people around me discover that I am nothing more than mediocre at anything. This is the reason that my life seems to be constantly in transition.

• My abilities as a singer are nothing more than average. The only thing that separates me from the average singer is an ability to read music and a music degree. Even though in the last couple of years, I've made it into two auditioned ensembles and was chosen to sing a solo in each.

• I'm a horrible dog-owner. My dog would rather belong to my parents or my roommates than belong to me. The Humane Society would regret letting me adopt him if they realized how inept I've proven to be.

The hardest thing about anxiety brain is sometimes that I have no control over the thoughts it creates or how long they stick around. I try to confront thoughts from anxiety brain with rational brain as best as I can, but there are times that it doesn't help at all. I just have to do what I can to cope until rational brain figures out how to take over again. I'm slowly learning to accept the rough stretches until they pass - because they always pass eventually. I work to cope with the bad days and hold on to the good ones. It's an every day battle, and it's exhausting. It's also a battle worth fighting. As it turns out the times when rational brain wins out, life is actually pretty great.

Broken Pedestals

As a music teacher where my daily interaction with other instructors in my content area is limited, I've come to join a number of music teacher Facebook groups. We share ideas and ask advice (okay, other people ask advice - I'm still too afraid to do that). At least a couple of times each month, one of my colleagues shares about a tragedy that's occurred at their school and asks advice on how to deal with it, and the responses are always split on what a teacher's role should be: to remain an image of strength so that students know that they are secure or to display their emotions so that students know that they are allowed to be human in their reactions.
I honestly don't fully remember how most any of my teachers, or other adults for that matter, reacted in times of tragedy. What I do know is that, even when they showed humanity, I tended to see my roles models as pillars of strength. Seeing only their slightest of imperfections, I placed them on high pedestals. Their greatness was something that I aspired to achieve, but that I feared I'd never match. They were images of perfection, and I was anything but.
I still vividly remember the day one of those pedestals came tumbling down. It was my first one-on-one coffee date with my favorite teacher after I'd graduated high school. One of my biggest role models, she was (and still is) a picture of the type of person I wanted to grow to be: a strong, independent, and caring woman and an extremely skilled teacher. I knew from being in her classes for two trimesters that she wasn't perfect, but her flaws and mistakes that I'd seen were ones I viewed as fun quirks - nothing earth-shattering. But on that particular night she shared that she'd recently been diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, and that she was concerned that I'd develop one as well (turns out I probably already had one - I just didn't recognize it as such). That night's conversation threw me for a loop not just for the rest of the night but for the days and weeks that followed. I struggled to process it, facing that task alone as I felt I couldn't share the information with anyone who actually knew her. At the time I thought it was about trying to understand why she would tell me, about why she thought I was at risk, and about how I was supposed to deal with the information. It took me years to realize that what I was really trying to process was the fact that the pedestal I'd put her on had been broken, that this person who I had looked up to as an image of strength turned out to be human. I'd long been an advocate for the idea that "teachers are people too" - but it turns out that graduating and actually seeing their adult human sides was shocking at times.
Learning to process and cope with the idea of this first broken pedestal turned out to be a positive experience in more ways than one. As I got older and continued to struggle dealing with my own imperfections, my dad started to share his own shortcomings with me. I was just as shocked, but this time I was also relieved. When I judge my driving, he shares his own mishaps. When I judge my fear of showing imperfections, he admits that he doesn't like to do things he's not good at or hasn't tried before while other people are watching. When I struggle with the all-encompassing nature of managing an anxiety disorder, he shares that his diabetes is not only a physical disease but one that means carrying a mental burden every day. I'd always seen my dad as perfect and had convinced myself that I'd never live up to the example he's set for me. His broken pedestal has allowed me to feel less isolated in the face of my imperfections.
For a while, I started to accept my imperfections and see them as normal aspects of a human existence. Though the phrase had been floating around my head for almost a decade, I finally started to claim my "perfectly imperfect" identity (imperfect because I'm human, but perfect because God made me the person that I am). And then life happened, and as my mental health tumbled, so did my confidence, and I started to put people on pedestals again. Even the ones who were dealing with imperfections seemed to have figured out how to manage them and there I was crumbling; knowing that I'd once figured out how to cope and found myself no longer able to made me feel even more inferior. Meanwhile, I found myself thrust into new environments with new communities of people who seemed to have everything in their lives together.
And then I watched another pedestal crack. When I joined a new choir filled with talented people who clearly lived their faith daily, I found myself constantly feeling inferior not only in my role as part of the group but as a person in general. I longed to feel comfortable as my flawed self in the midst of the group - and I found my sense of belonging through the person I would have least expected. She's the kind of person who stands out in any group: talented, pretty, kind, filled with joy, and a natural leader. We chatted often, and it felt like we were connected somehow, but I was also extremely intimidated. Often singing the same voice part, I feared she'd discover my imperfection and inferiority. It wasn't until our most recent concert that I began to really see her human side - starting with her admission that she knew she'd probably forget some of the music and just make up something that would fit in with the other parts and continuing when she shared with our entire audience her struggles in realizing that she'd spent her whole life living for other people rather than being the person God had made her to be. After that evening, our conversations moved from mostly shallow small talk to sharing more about the tough stuff we'd faced through life. As our friendship has grown, she's become a reminder to me that no matter how well people seem to have their life put together on the outside, we never really know what's going on underneath.
A couple of weeks ago, my journey with broken pedestals came full circle when I had a lunch date with that same favorite teacher whose human side had rocked my world. In the times when I'm feeling good about life or when I'm struggling with anxiety but managing it, I've seen her as one of my greatest supports. But in the times when I'm not holding it together very well, I'm scared to reach out. She's always seemed to figure out how to conquer living with anxiety, and I fear that she'll judge me if she sees that I'm not managing to do the same (yes, I realize that's anxiety brain talking). As we got to talking and catching up on how the last 2.5 years have gone, I learned that last year wasn't a particularly great year for her either, and she's been taking some time to just focus on herself. Because no matter how well you cope, sometimes life throws crappy situations your way, and suddenly it gets difficult to manage everything again.
So is it important for kids to see the adults and role models around them as pillars of strength? Perhaps to an extent for the sake of their feelings of safety and security. But as an adult? While the first broken pedestal was a shock, I'm thankful for each pedestal in my life that has toppled. Putting the people around me on pedestals always leaves me feeling inferior and isolated. Breaking the pedestals allows me to surround myself with other perfectly imperfect people so that I have allies battling alongside me when life gets tough - and for that I will be forever grateful.

25 Random Things

A while back (as in a long while - at some point when I was in college), it was a thing to post a note on Facebook stating 25 things about yourself that most people didn't know about you. After running across a (very) old post on a blog I recently discovered and then reading my own "25 Things" Facebook note (okay, so technically there were 3 of them because people kept tagging me), I felt like revisiting this trend. Plus, I'm not the same person now as I was then, so new things to share. And I'm trying this new vulnerability concept where I share things about myself that I'm afraid will send people running for the hills (when my rational mind tells me they probably won't). So here are 25 random things you may not know about me:

1. I fully intend to be at the 2028 Olympics in Los Angeles where I plan on attending as many women's basketball games as possible and getting to whatever additional events I can afford to see.

2. One of my most happy places on earth is Barnes & Noble. I credit this to the fact that my mom has worked there since I was in 1st grade (March 4th was her first day - I was star student at school that week). I even consider the Barnes & Noble Cafe one of my favorite places to go to eat, and it's definitely my favorite coffee shop.

3. I really enjoy going for long walks (as in 4 miles generally feels too short). One of my favorite things about my Disney trip last spring was the amount of walking I did every day. My feet and legs were barely even sore by the end. I seriously miss the amount of walking that I did at Disney World. Last weekend I discovered hiking. I'm hoping to turn it into a hobby that fulfills my desire to walk and explore constantly.
 
4. My two absolute favorite movies are also ones that I can't allow myself to watch unless I'm already in a good mood. Homeward Bound is my favorite, but I cry through basically the whole movie because the idea of dogs getting left behind and then nearly getting killed as they try to get home just destroys me. Frozen is my second favorite, but it hits way too close to home for me.

5. One of my bucket list items is to watch every Disney movie in existence in chronological order. Except I might have to skip Eight Below because it was basically 2 hours of non-stop crying (for basically the same reasons as Homeward Bound - except not all the dogs make it out alive). I'm also still trying to decide if it's worth trying to push myself through Hocus Pocus because I'm such a big wimp when it comes to horror movies that I've never made it past the first 15 minutes of that movie - even though it's supposedly a children's comedy...
 
6. My two most recent TV guilty pleasures are Pretty Little Liars (because I'm a sucker for suspense shows) and Dance Moms (because I'm fascinated by watching quality dance performances - also one of the moms used to be a teacher and I appreciate the sanity that she and her daughter bring to the show).

7. As a trained singer, I tend to judge other singers less by how "good" they sound and more by how healthy their technique sounds. I cringe when I hear unhealthy technique not necessarily because it sounds bad but because the only thought running through my head is "Oh, I'm afraid you're going to get nodes or damage your voice in some other way."

8. I appreciate humor, but I'm not a particularly humorous person. Anytime that I think of something that I think is funny, I wind up laughing at it halfway through saying it which 1) means that no one understands what I'm saying in order to get the humor, and 2) is the basically the world's biggest faux pas when telling a joke; so I usually just think it in my head and quietly laugh to myself, which probably makes me look super awkward anyway. As such, the most intimidating advice I've ever been given as a teacher is to find something to laugh about during every class you have each day because humor is something that doesn't come naturally to me.

9. My cooperating teacher when I was student teaching for music told me that if you're having a bad day it means you haven't eaten enough chocolate. I wholeheartedly live by this rule.

10. I've recently come to the conclusion that while I love working with teens, I don't love teaching them. But I love teaching elementary-aged kids - they're exhausting but so much fun to teach (seriously, the awe they express at talking about things like quarter notes is refreshing and invigorating).

11. I know exactly where I want to go and what I want to do for my Master's degree, but life circumstances keep pushing back the timeline for when I can get started. This super bums me out, but it also means that I'm learning to put other aspects of my life ahead of my career and studies, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

12. I really love my job this year. I also feel incredibly inferior for not having a full-time teaching position, even though most people I talk to agree that it's a really good foot in the door.

13. Worship and prayer have always been a huge part of my faith life. Reading my Bible has tended to come and go in streaks. This is something I'm trying to work on (also forcing myself to read more from the Old Testament rather than continuing to revisit the letters of the New Testament for the umpteenth time).

14. Finding new church homes has been an incredibly difficult, anxiety-inducing activity every time it's come up in my life. It generally takes me at least a year, sometimes more, to find a new church home each time I move to a new location or feel God's call that it's time to move on. For this I feel like an awful Christian, especially compared to my friends who have strong faith lives.

15. Cleaning and de-cluttering are major anxiety triggers for me. I can't do either activity for more than about an hour at a time, and not more than a few hours in a day, and I can't attack it for multiple days in a row. My brain gets too clogged. Having anyone help makes it worse because I don't know how to verbalize what I want done, so they end up doing it wrong, and I have to redo it anyway. I'm pretty sure that my inability to fully de-clutter and clean all at once drives most people around me crazy.

16. Often the first symptom of anxiety I experience is a tightness in my chest, but that can be dissipated by having pressure against my chest. This is why I often stand with my arms crossed even though I'm told it's a horrible non-verbal communication habit. It's also why I prefer to wear tighter fitting tops or wear tightly-fitting tank tops under loose-fitting clothing - simply wearing loose-fitting tops on their own makes me irrationally feel like the whole world is spinning out of control.

17. Back when I was on a medical leave a couple of years ago, I decided that I wanted to write a memoir about my experience living with anxiety. I'd drifted away from the idea for a while (even earlier this year feeling I had set it aside for good), but based on some experiences and epiphanies I had over the summer, I've come back to the task with greater focus than ever before. I've been doing what research I can online about what makes a good memoir and am starting to read popular/successful memoirs as I work to write my own. I've narrowed my focus to a theme of the destructive nature of living with a high-functioning mood disorder and what it looks like to rebuild a life out of its ruins (someday I will figure out a more concise way to state that). I'm really excited about the progress I'm making, but I'm also learning that some things I'll have to approach slowly and with breaks in between because it turns out revisiting some of the most difficult experiences of my life brings me to a dark place that I can't allow myself to dwell in for long periods of time. It's also really hard to wait to share the writing I've already done, but I feel like I need to get a lot more down on paper before I get feedback (particularly about which stories should be kept and which stories should be set aside - though I have a few non-negotiable ones to keep). This might also be the first time that I'm excited to get feedback on writing to make it the best that it can be. (P.S. If you're interested in reading one or more drafts and giving me feedback when I get to that point, please let me know).

18. I'm an insanely competitive person. I generally try to appear non-competitive because I feel like I'm not allowed to be competitive (though I don't know why this is), but it kind of crushes me inside when I lose at most anything. This extends to when I play games against myself, and I get upset when my favorite game piece loses (or rig the game to make sure it wins...)

19. I generally can't stand hosting things. It's a lot of stress and pressure to entertain people and make them happy. Also, if you're familiar with the Biblical story of Mary and Martha, I'm 100% a Mary - I'm all about quality time and literally completely forget about providing for people's basic needs. If you ever come over and want a glass of water or something, please ask because I will almost certainly forget to ask you if you want anything to drink until after you've been here for a few hours.

20. My Myers-Briggs typology has generally been ISFJ (though the J sometimes leans P because I like closure but anxiety brain likes the idea of being able to change decisions if they turn out to be wrong). Lately I've had a hard time with all the descriptions of how an ISFJ's focus and priority tends to be on making their loved ones comfortable because I wonder if I really want to make other people's lives/experiences better or if I'm just afraid that they'll ditch me if I don't attempt to take care of their every need (also because I'm generally bad at taking care of people's physical needs - see #19). Then I realized all the times in the last couple of months that I saw someone in my life who was unhappy (if even for a short while) and immediately and instinctively started brainstorming ways to fix it (or got frustrated because I didn't know how to fix it) - and anxiety brain was more likely to stop me from acting on that list than it was likely to help me make it (because I don't want to say/do the wrong thing or try to do something and have the person think that I'm over-stepping).

21. One of my dreams is to adopt a sibling group out of foster care. My rational brain knows how challenging that road could be, but my heart is so drawn to the idea that it feels like a calling.

22. Like many girls, I've dreamed about my someday, far-off wedding (even though I've been single for a decade now - thanks, Facebook, for that fun reminder). For my father-daughter dance, I can't decide between Stephen Curtis Chapman's "Cinderella" or the polka "In Heaven There Is No Beer" - the former because it's perfect for mine and my dad's relationship (even though it's now the cliche song to use), and the latter because my dad and I always dance to polkas at weddings, and this one has the most amusing lyrics.

23. My dog has fear-aggression and territorial/protective issues. Especially with strange dogs, strange people, and basically any small children. I try to work with him on it, but after 5 years I'm exhausted and, as a result, much more accepting of these behaviors as something that I may not be able to change. I often feel like the world's worst dog owner for not wanting to put more effort toward correcting his negative behaviors.

24. I accepted long ago that I will always be covered in dog fur. I don't even bother lint rolling my clothes anymore unless it's something really important (like an interview or a performance).

25. My dog's two favorite words are "breakfast-time" and "supper-time." When I say them, he does this quirky little dance that consists of running back and forth like crazy while almost falling over due to his overwhelming excitement while also jumping up on his hind legs every so often. Watching him do this dance at mealtimes is my favorite part of every day. Even on my worst days, it never fails to make me smile.

Jesus is Coming to Dinner

An unsuspecting Christian gets a phone call from Jesus who declares He is coming to dinner. That person rushes around the house preparing - the house must be spotless, and dinner must be a culinary masterpiece. This is Jesus, after all. Meanwhile, people keep showing up at the door with their pesky problems: a lost dog, a broken arm, a car accident, a house on fire. Don't these people realize that Jesus is coming to dinner? It's getting late, and Jesus has yet to show. The phone rings once more, and Jesus asks why he wasn't let in when came to the door - multiple times.

"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?' The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'" ~ Matthew 25:37-39 (NIV)

Well, I've never gotten a phone call from Jesus. In my life, Jesus usually can't find his phone - or, that is, my neighbor Marilyn can't find her phone. Frequently for the second or third time that week. Marilyn usually shows up looking rather disheveled, and from the numbers of times I've been over at her house helping her find her phone, her house looks like her appearance times about 10. It's not entirely surprising that she continues to lose her phone - which is always on vibrate. So she stops by and asks my roommates and me to call her phone so that she can attempt to hear it ringing while she looks for it, and we pleasantly say that we're happy to help - it's the right thing to do.
But sometimes it's hard. When she stops by at 5am or 11pm, we don't always want to answer the door. When it's the 5th time in a day or 3rd time that week, we wonder why she doesn't just find a way to keep track of her phone for once. When we've been calling for 15 minutes straight or have reached 6 dozen phone calls in a day, all with no answer, we decide to give up. But gosh darn it, I remember that Jesus is coming to dinner, so I keep agreeing to help with a smile on my face and guilt on my brain - but no love in my heart.
I just started attending a new church after a year and a half without one. I knew I was longing for a community to worship with but wasn't sure about jumping in to a community to grow in faith with. The church is starting a congregation-wide Bible Study called "40 Days of Love," and the goal of church leadership is to get as many adults as possible to sign up for a small group. I've only gone there three weeks - jumping into a small group Bible Study felt like making a large commitment much too early. But after my summer choir wrapped its regular singing season, I began to realize how much I missed the support of a faith community, and I accepted that I needed to find myself a more consistent community of people with whom to grow in faith. But did I really want to join a Bible Study? Couldn't I just show up at a one-time event as I worked to discover if this was to be my long-term church home? And was this really the right Bible Study for me? I feel like I've got a decent grasp on what God's love looks like, what loving other people looks like, and I longed to learn something new and different for once.
"When we recognize God's unconditional love for us, we start cutting other people some slack." Ouch. The associate pastor's words fell on my ears with a sting on Sunday. I've generally considered myself a loving person - but I'm really bad at cutting people slack. I mean, if they're particularly important to me, I'm better. Or with my students, especially in the primary grades, I can generally handle it by reminding myself that they're little and still learning. But, more often than not, I could use a lesson in cutting people some slack.
"We want to be the church that's known for loving people. And, even more so, we want to be the church known for teaching people how to love." That's the whole point of these small groups - to get better at loving people the way Jesus does. To learn to live a life where we love not when it's deserved, not when it's convenient, but when it means sacrificing of ourselves to love the other person. And, it turns out, I still have some lessons to learn and practice to do in really loving like Jesus loves. So now I'm signed up for a 6-week small group study - 6 weeks is important because supposedly that's how long it takes to build a habit. So maybe after 6 weeks loving others will be less of a guilt-ridden decision and more of a habit where, through the Holy Spirit living in me, I see a bit more of the Jesus living in people around me. Because if Jesus is coming to dinner, I want to welcome Him in not because I should but because I'm thankful for a Savior who taught me how to love by first loving me.

God Works for Good

The summer after 7th grade I stood in the Green Lake Bible Camp chapel with dozens of other youth rapping (to the beat of "Ice, Ice Baby")

Stop - on your knees and listen
God calls us for a hip-hop mission
Jesus - grabs ahold of us tightly
His love flows daily and nightly
Will it ever stop, yo? Oh no.
God is good - and it shows
To the extreme we work his plan for a purpose
All for his love 'cuz it's totally worth it
God is good. Romans 8:28 (chick-a-pow-pow)
God is good. Romans 8:28 (chick-a-pow)

Because, you know, theme verses at camp are much more memorable when put to a Vanilla Ice rap... At the time, like most camp theme verses, I remembered it but didn't find much meaning in it. But in the last few years it's been my "when times get tough" verse (though I admittedly haven't always wanted to listen to it).

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to his purpose. ~ Romans 8:28 (NIV)

God works for good. I know that a common church phrase (especially for millenials like me who have regularly attended Sunday School or youth group) is "God is good - all the time. And all the time - God is good." Those phrases are certainly true and valuable - but God works for good - that's something different to think about.
I've said more than once in recent years that I believe that God has a plan but that humans - being their sinful, imperfect selves - have a habit of royally screwing up those plans. I mean, God created the world and put humans in paradise (the Garden of Eden), but then Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, and now look at the world we live in... So I trust God - I just don't always trust other people. And in those times knowing that God Himself is good helps me feel hopeful for eternity but not for the rest of my human life on earth. But God works for the good of the people who love Him - people like me - means that God must be doing something to take my tangled mess of a life and make it better - it just didn't occur to me until recently how much better that could be.
It was late in the summer after my first year of teaching. My hopes that the long-term sub position I'd believed would mean a foot in the door at a school and in a district and community that I love had been demolished in ways that destroyed my self-confidence as a teacher and my ability to trust the people I worked with. Many interviews through the summer had come up fruitless. Then all of a sudden I had a job offer for a school my gut told me was a bad fit (no matter how much I loved the two teachers who were part of my interview). Panicked about finding a job in the few remaining weeks before the beginning of the school year, I ignored my gut and accepted the offer.
It wasn't long before I regretted my choice. The stress of that job aggravated my long-present but not-so-long-ago diagnosed anxiety disorder. At a time when I was trying to cling to Frozen telling me to "Let it Go," my boss and a number of my colleagues were putting me under a microscope and pointing out every detail that I had gotten wrong or that I had missed or that was wrong with me as a teacher or even as a person. It was like putting an ant under a magnifying glass in the sun - the longer I was scrutinized, the more I deteriorated. Three months into my second year at that school, I wound up taking a medical leave. I got some extra help and was feeling good about returning but realized through conversations with my employer about returning to work that the people who had torn me down once would do the same thing again in a matter of days. On the day that I was set to return to work, I woke up thinking how easy it would be to walk into my bathroom and down a bottle of pills, or to go jump off a higher floor of my building, just so that I wouldn't have to show up to work that day. I called in sick, my doctor rescinded her release for me to return to work, and I never did go back to teach at that school.
There's a lot of shame that goes with having to take a medical leave for 7 months to deal with your mental health. There's still a lot of stigma around mental health disorders. You're incompetent. You're crazy. You're weak. Your faith isn't strong enough or disciplined enough. It's not the kind of thing you share with people easily, even after knowing them for a while, even trusting them enough to share other deeply personal information with them. It's a dark, dirty secret you carry around - a burden difficult to carry but one that you risk making heavier by revealing it to others.
For all these reasons, I've often wished that the medical leave and its surrounding stressors hadn't happened. I've wished that I'd listened to my gut and never taken that job. Because without the toxic environment that aggravated my anxiety, I don't think it would have gotten so bad that it required a 7-month medical leave. Accepting that job offer was my life's greatest regret. But in recent months it dawned on me: all the experiences - and people - I wouldn't have in my life if I had walked away from that offer. Because God works for good.
You see, over the last couple of years I've developed this really awesome new faith family. I had a great one growing up, but as time went by, it drifted apart and I lost many of the faith supports I'd once had. I drifted through my early years of young adulthood with no real church home and few strong faith supports. Unsure of jumping into a faith community after the drama that had gone down at my childhood church home, I looked to at least find a place to worship by attending a nearby mega-church - only to be scared away when people managed to recognize me as a new visitor in the large crowd. It would take my extended medical leave and second treatment program to bring me back there. At my second treatment program, I set going to church as one of my weekend goals. As it turns out, sometimes social anxiety does useful things like force me to follow through on my goals because I fear the embarrassment of having to admit that I failed to meet them. So I got back to that church - a church I never would have considered had I not moved to that part of the Twin Cities Metro for the job that nearly destroyed me - and it was there that I found a home. It was there where my faith grew at a rate it hadn't in over a decade, where I learned to take God out of a safe little box and let Him be a God that is amazing and powerful in ways that I'll never fully understand. And it was there that He gifted me with a new faith family - some I even dubbed as my "church parents" and another as my "church grandma" (though I don't recall if I ever actually told them that...) I gained friends, mentors. What I didn't expect is that when God sent me (and others) out of that church home and into the rest of the world was that He would continue to grow my faith family. Because God works for good.
At the time that God called me to leave that church home, He called their young adult choir to do ministry beyond that church as well. I had seen them from afar, some even singing in the church's other adult choirs with me, but I'd always seen them as the "cool music kids" - and, let's be serious, attempting to fit into the "cool music kids" groups in high school and college didn't work out very well for me... I occasionally found myself in conversations with some of the members of this group, but I figured myself forgettable. Then as my time at that church home was coming to an end, I learned that multiple people thought that I should be given the opportunity to become part of that choir. I was pleasantly surprised. God works for good.
A few weeks later I had an audition, and I've never been more nervous for an audition in my life. I kid you not, auditions (and audience-filled call-backs) with Dr. Rene Clausen for the Concordia Concert Choir were significantly less scary to me than this one was (and, mind you, my Concordia auditions did always leave me a bundle of nerves). It was the hardest audition I've ever done - it was also the most fun and most satisfyingly challenging audition I've ever done. And all of a sudden I was, at least on paper, part of the "cool music kids" group. God works for good.
To be entirely honest, I spent most of my first summer in the group convinced that I wasn't good enough. Most rehearsals were preceded by panic attacks that sometimes kept me home for the evening instead. I struggled to find my fit in a group of people who had known each other for years, and the only way I figured I'd find my place was to prove myself musically - a task at which I continually felt I failed. After a frustrating personal performance during our last rehearsal before that summer's concert, I expressed my embarrassment via Facebook status. In the days that followed I received a voicemail making sure I wasn't too stressed out and wanting to encourage me that I was actually doing really well. I keep it on my phone now over a year later as a reminder that 1) I'm probably doing things better than I think I am, and 2) I have people in my life who do things like leave me a voicemail to encourage me and make sure I'm doing okay - and I super need those types of people in my life. God works for good.
After my second year in the group, I finally feel like I fit in. I feel more confident and valuable musically. I've mostly been able to let go of the feeling that I need to prove myself (though having a solo and directing a small group have seriously challenged my ability to let go of that feeling). I've missed zero rehearsals due to panic attacks. When paired/grouped with some of the choir's strongest singers I'm no longer intimidated but excited. I often find myself chatting after rehearsal rather than awkwardly standing around then ducking out - even some school nights I'd rather hang out and chat than head for home so that I can go to bed (even with my 30+ minute drive to get home). I've discovered which people I shouldn't be allowed to sing with or sit by because we do things like chat too much or have nonstop giggle fits. On  a weekly basis (and sometimes more often because Facebook) I'm challenged in the way that I live my faith - these people hold me accountable in ways I don't even know if they realize they are. When I hit a pretty dark mental health stretch early this summer (that I never really fully expressed to anyone), it was rehearsals with this group that pulled me out. To top it all off, I recently discovered that at least one of them, a person that I hold in particularly high respect, is more like me than I ever imagined. God works for good.
And in these reflections I find the biggest paradox of my life: Without the toxic job that nearly destroyed me, I would not have this amazing faith family. I've somehow found myself surrounded by these people who I can trust to challenge me and hold me accountable while still offering unconditional love and support. A group where it's safe to let go of that persistent feeling that I have to prove my worth (I promise, I'm working on it!). A group of "cool music kids" who actually wants me to be a fully-included member. And without that awful job, I wouldn't have this family. Out of the worst experience of my life comes one of the best. Because God works for good.
I find myself in awe at this paradigm shift - that I can no longer allow myself to regret what I've long considered my life's greatest regret. Not because my career has gotten to a better place - I'm on my fourth job since that medical leave and my new position this year is less than half time. It's not that I've gotten my mental health completely under control - because the first half of this calendar year was pretty dark on the mental health front. It was not the challenges that changed me and my life for the better. It was being in that location at that time, in spite of the challenges brought on by that place and that time, to meet a particular group of people that have changed my life - changed me - for the better. God works for good.
And as I stand in awe at how God took the ugliest part of my life and through it gave me a gift more beautiful than I'd ever imagined, I realize that I shouldn't be so surprised. This, of course, is the same God who took His son's ugly death on a cross and turned it into eternal salvation for a sinful world - and what is more beautiful than that? Because in all things, God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.