The Lovely Hind

Meet Joseph

Paparazzi?

...not for this kid. ;)

Ode to the Fam

Alright, so, it goes without saying that I missed my family. And guys, I have a great, loving, supportive family -- the kind of family that is positively dynamic, never boring, and has an endless supply of awesome on hand. Naturally, a group with a combo like this, will be missed.

And let me just say, after traveling across the Atlantic, from Palestine to America, these guys are the ones that I could not wait to see.

I calculated it, and looks like it took me 30 hours to get from one home to the other. Thirty hours of groggily meandering through airports, slipping in and out of half-hearted sleep, and processing the many memories made and relationships formed.

Talk about a long journey!

I am so thankful that at the end of that trek stood the group of people who love and support me more than anyone else I know. They know my faults, my weaknesses, my strengths, my passions, my everything -- and love me all the same.

It's interesting how after months of being gone, I walk in the front door of our house, note the changes that have been made and the relocation of furniture, but still feel as if I'm home. Sure, "my" bedroom has now changed faces and is now home to "Mom's Sewing Center/Guest Room" -- but, I am still welcome.

I am still given the patience, the grace, and the guidance that I am so very thankful for.

To my family, who taught me to love others without judging them -- for we all are broken, all in need of a Savior -- I love you.

It's good to be home.

Groundhog Day

Oh. my. GOODNESS.

All of the greenery around me is soooo so good for my being. Really. I feel as if my spirit has been caged in for far too long, and having just been let free, it is going crazy! One thing I know, I can guarantee you that my time spent outdoors is about to exponentially increase! I cannot tell you how wonderful my summer is going to be because of this.

Also, to be in the land of peanut butter rivers is simply amazing. I walked into my parents' kitchen, opened the cabinet doors, and lo-and-behold, five {yes, FIVE! --of various varieties} peanut butter jars were smiling right back at me. Ahhh... it's good to be home.

Alright, alright, jokes aside... Let's get down to some serious stuff...

Fellowship.

Hold on, let me repeat this.

Fellowship. And, we're talking, legit fellowship is what I am looking forward to like Christmas Day. I feel as though I've been living through the plot of "Groundhog Day" --- only, my holiday is Christmas. I've been living Christmas Eve over, and over, and over, and over -- and I cannot wait to get out of this rut!

Please, don't hear me wrong. Our team overseas was sooo, so awesome. We worked through issues, we supported one another through the thick and the thin, we encouraged one another, we had fun together, we worshipped together, we prayed together, we lived life successfully together... if I do say so myself. But, we didn't have the family feel that you get through meeting with other Jesus followers on a regular basis.

I feel as though my soul has been on the waiting list for strong, faith-filled community, and I'm anticipating being reunited like you would not believe. What a glorious day that will be...

{Side Note: But that does not mean that I was disconnected from those I left behind. Shout out to all of you who communicated with me over this last year -- all of the E-mails, text messages, chat conversations, care packages, etc. etc --- are/were such blessings! They had a greater impact than you realize. Thank you for thinking of me. You guys rock. God's love is so evident by your words + actions. Thank you for that. But, what I'm really excited about is seeing you all in person. Reunion in the near future? You bet!}

Straddling Two Distant Lands

As I gaze outside of my living room here for the last time, I am overcome with emotion. The many thoughts that are dancing through my head resemble these strewed sentences & words.

Thank GOODNESS, I am DONE packing.
...Now, let's just hope that the bags meet the TSA weight requirements.

Weird. I am going to understand all of the signs I see in 36 hours.

Even weirder: I'm going to understand ALL of the conversations I hear around me. {ok, maybe most* conversations...}

I'm going to see my family at the airport.

Hmm... When am I going to see my students again? I really like those guys.

Can I please get past security in 30 minutes or less?

Did I accomplish everything that I set out here to do?

I am about to leave this land full of history + newness + turmoil + peace + love + bitterness + understanding + confusion + new family + strangers +  people broken to pieces + people made whole.  ...All of the  contradictions that make this place special ...that make this place feel like home... Will be missed.

P.S. Dear America, For some strange reason... I am craving doughnuts like c.r.a.z.y. {If you know me, then you know how bizarro this is! I cannot tell you the last time I had one of these bad boys...}. Seriously. I think I may have even dreamt about eating one?? {Whaaaat?! Who am I?!}Particularly, though, America -- Can you let me have a great big chocolate covered and delectably warm-fresh-from-the-oven kind of doughnut??

That'd be swell.

Trusting

Right about now I have {somewhat of} an idea what a parent ponders when they send their beloved child off to college...

The questions are moving through my head like a rushing river over loose stones.

Will my students remember the truth and love I poured into their beings?

Will they remember the life of Jesus and come to truly follow Him?

Will the other teachers that are in their path fill them up with knowledge, admonish them when wrong is done, and encourage them when positive words are said + uplifting actions are shown?

Will I be able to follow their lives faithfully and be at their side if they ever need my guidance?

When will I know to let go?

...It's hard to know the answers to all of these questions.

But I do know one thing, my God is watching over them, and He is faithful.

Praying that my trust would fully fall on God -- with my students' futures and my future as well.

I'm preparing to move back to the States in a few days, and will be moving on from this past year's experience. I am to work at a local coffee shop and hopefully fill people's souls with goodness while serving them a great cup of joe.

This job will be very different from the past 10 months of my life, but they are not unrelated.

I plan to use the skills that I have gained here in the next few steps of my life and beyond. I hope to fall more in love with Jesus. I plan on living my life out of His love + His strength {because I definitely know that mine is not. enough.}

Ahhh... It's been a great year, and I am anticipating the many more that God has in store for me.

Bring on the adventure! Even when I'm apprehensive, I know it's best to just trust God in + with everything.

Just say yes.
 

Last Day

So, as most of you know, I head back to the States in thirteen days (!!!). If you were to tell me several days ago that the last day of school would zoom by without my knowledge, or really, awareness of it... I probably would have laughed at you in your face.

But, that is what has happened.

It's gone.

Strange, the moment that I was anticipating for so long has now come, and I am so desperately wanting to have a room full of small-statured bodies once more. Twenty-three, to be exact. Don't get me wrong when I say that I was anticipating the end, for it wasn't the kids I was dreading, but the work! Teaching takes its toll on you when you perpetually pour so much of yourself out.

And, well, I am drained.

But am so, so wanting to go back to yesterday.

Yesterday, when my students were beckoning me to look over to them while they were attempting to jump rope while practicing the 3:1 ratio. Three 9 year old boys, one jump rope. Talk about entertainment! They were. a. riot.

Yesterday, when we ventured to the wonderful world of Peter Pan. As some of my students gazed onto the screen filled with the adventurous lives that make up Neverland, I noticed something. They were transfixed. A few of my students had never seen the film, and their joyous laughter was so contagious, I could not help but join. Simple joys are known in a child's smile --laughter seeps into your soul.

Yesterday, when one of my students, when questioned where they would most like to travel, answered Arkansas ---because that is where I am from. The smile behind his face says so much more than his answer.

We have connected.

These moments, and sooo many more, are the ones I hope to cherish. To hold dear for the many years to come, closely to my heart. I hope to never forget the times when I fought for their innocence and for justice to come upon them. I hope to never forget the boldness behind their eyes. The many stories that they are wanting to tell me, or, the many stories they strive to hide.

When you venture here, you may be surprised by the violence. You may be surprised by the cruelty of how life is lived. You may be surprised by the amount of dirt, garbage, and the land's unkempt appearance. But that, my friends, would be nothing to what I have been surprised by.

I have been surprised by the hearts full of hope-- most, clouded by fear and uncertainty. I have been surprised by the many words and unforeseen acts of kindness received. I have been surprised by the love felt here; as if visiting long-lost family. I have been surprised by the ease of it all. Every step along the way with my third grade class brought me closer and closer into their definition of "familly."

Ah, my Third Grade family.

The family that I have cried over, poured myself out over, screamed at the top of my lungs in anger over {and then communicated in a civil manner over}, laughed uncontrollably at their jokes and stories over, hugged like there was no tomorrow over, and spoke words of truth and love over, is the family I will miss.

Singing in the "Rain"

Well, this week brought an interesting "event" to my Recess duties...

On Wednesday, as per usual, I was a jump roping machine with my third grade students. Two weeks ago, I taught a few of them how to jump and crisscross the ropes, and haven't been able to escape their attention since, ha! Every day they are wanting me to showcase my skills so they can see how I do it. And then, of course, I watch as 10 or so students attempt to do the same performance for me. I really am enjoying this sweet ending to my school year. It's a memory I hope to cherish: Nicolas, as he looks like a rooster crowing while he attempts to jump uninterrupted jumps right next to Silina, who looks as if she was born for this. {I say rooster because Nicolas hunches and bobs his head with every jump... even after MUL-TI-PLE: "Nicolas, stand up straight while you jump!" ...He is afraid that he will hit himself with the rope behind his head.. silly boy.

Fun, all around, to say the least.

In between jumps, I gaze across the courtyard as several of my students are playing hardcore football {soccer}. Seriously, I have Real Madrid and Barcelona at my fingertips with these kids. They are intense, quick, and focused! But, sometimes, this is a formula for some pretty flared pride. Have to work on this one...

As I was peering from left to right, I was suddenly caught off guard by a loud scream: "WooooaaAAAAHHHH!!!"

Enter: A water pipe eruption.

That's right, the bathroom that is connected to my classroom sits next to the outer wall of the school, and wouldn't you know it--- the pipe exploded with water. It reminded me of one of those movie clips where the kids dance, sing, and play while the fire hydrant located behind them on the corner spews water into the air and onto the streets.  Yes, children were splashing, running through, and hopping over the river that was beginning to form in the school's courtyard. One of my students said it best: "Ms. Angela!! It's  like the Jordan River!!!"

Thankfully, no water seeped indoors into our classroom or school building. {Thaaaank goodness! THAT would have been interesting...} But, the day was then sprinkled with a small work crew that came and drilled, hammered, and fixed the water pipe as I taught for the duration of the afternoon.

Oh man, days are never boring here.

My Jesus Knows No Barriers

Well, this is one of those posts where I just really... am at a loss for words. Seems like that is a definite pattern these days. Where do I even begin?!

Nine weeks has simply began to disintegrate before my eyes. I am now sitting with a little over a month left here. And when I say, "a little" ...that breaks down to 32 days to go. Woah. 

So, I guess... I'll start with the recent happenings, and hopefully will shed some light on my life these days + my thought process through it all... 

This past Thursday, I had a conversation with a high school student about the difficulties here, and what needs to change. {What needs to happen? What IS happening? Who's affected?...} It was a good one, that is for sure. It was a conversation I did not foresee, and it definitely wasn't something I was seeking out at the time. But, it was good. deep. and woke up my spirit.  

And, wanna know what I got out of it? A big task remains. 

How do I say that barriers need to fall, when I also need to hand over my own inhibitions to God? How can I even begin to say how this area "is doing something wrong" when I, obviously, make mistakes and am striving to be more like Christ... and still have a ways to go?

Well, to answer that, let's just say that my spirit was moved, and I definitely feel like God spoke to me... I feel like God poured a vision into my being so I can share the potential of great change here. 

So, please, do not read the following thinking that I have everything together or that I am judging anyone here. I'm not. That's not my style. What IS happening is that I am going to share with you how I see Jesus moving... or, better, how he could move here, if allowed. 

I don't remember the song that I was singing at the time, but while worshipping, I got this wonderful visual that played in my mind... as if I was watching it first hand. Eyes shut. Heart open. Spirit bowing before my great God. When suddenly, I see the skies open and God begins to pour over this area the truth of His great sacrifice. The sacrifice of His one and only Son. Jesus. I see Jesus on the cross, blood... dripping down. The blood, bearing the message of freedom. I see the blood sweeping over this barren land, like the days of the first Passover, and redemption is given. In response to this wonderful gift, I hear shouts and songs of praise bursting forth from every home. Every family. Everyone. Ahhh... it was sooo. so. good. 

But, this recent said conversation came after that vision. And, I was reminded that even though the Spirit moves in mysterious + unseen ways, we {people} remain of the flesh. 

Barriers exist between the two people groups here: Muslims and Christians. Sadly, the group that could make some great headway towards peace are stuck. They are focused on their own lives. Their own problems. Their own inabilities {or, abilities, for that matter}... instead of focusing on how Jesus lived. How he served. How, culturally, he was so abnormal. 

Living in the Middle-E. has really opened my eyes to that fact. It would be so very odd for a gentleman to come and witness + speak with a woman today... I can only IMAGINE the kind of ridicule Jesus received for doing so back then. Jesus served with an all-out abandonment, putting the laws + ways of man behind the laws + ways of God. Where has that kind of mentality gone?? It started here.  Do I need to say that again? Jesus lived here. He worked here. He did miracles here. He died here. His ministry began... right... here. Where is it now?!

 Fear + pride + bitterness + numbness are overtaking the majority of the hearts that are here in this place. The hearts that proclaim Christianity are the same hearts that look to their neighbor in disdain. 

Culturally, this area is different from my home. Of that, I am aware. But, my Jesus is the same Jesus they know. I would venture to say that most of you reading this post know some who live close to you who, perhaps, could fit in this same category: nominal. 

Am I pointing fingers at them and bickering? Definitely not. 

But what I am doing is praying that Jesus would penetrate into their cores. Praying that the peace that can only come from Jesus would find rest in their hearts. Praying that He would move in ways that I am not ready for, that they are not ready for. Praying that this area would not be characterized by fear or uncertainty, but instead, by a people who stand for Jesus loudly + boldly, disregarding all other opinions thrown at them from man. Praying for a people who humbly serve their neighbors, enemies, and friends. 

Praying that it does not stop here. Praying this place would serve as a catalyst for change, and that Jesus would take the hearts of the millions of others that live around this forsaken place. 

My Jesus knows no barriers. All that needs to happen, is an invitation needs to be given. So, I'm asking: Jesus, please come. Move in my heart and theirs. Break our pride. Move us to where it is uncomfortable. Let us bring you glory and praise with our lives. 

Amen and amen. 

What April Has Taught Me...

• Being a "Mother Hen" at an amusement park has its pros and its cons. It's great that my students know that I love/care/desire to protect them, but sheeeesh, people! HAVE YOU EVER HEARD OF A LINE BEFORE?!? Seriously. The people who swarmed the amusement park the day we paid it a visit were extremely pushy towards my young students. It was slightly ridiculous. So ridiculous, in fact, that I stood in line with my arms fully extended so as to barricade entry past the point at which I was standing, allowing only my students to stand directly in front of me. If any of the others in "line" even DARED to slip by my arms, fury escaped my being. 
• Clean amusement parks are fun! Dirty, crowded, and barely managed amusement parks are not so much. 
• The life of Jesus is not complex. He lived, he loved, he served, he spoke truth... my students are not too young to learn of his great example. Nor are they too young to learn of his sacrifice. 
• Sunrise Services at the Garden Tomb on Easter Sunday are, indeed, wonderful. Also wonderful is the 9:30 am service that immediately follows the 6:30 am service. Helloooo, snooze button! Will remember this nugget of truth next time. Although, it was pleasant to feel like the only ones driving to Jerusalem at 5:15 am. 
• Thunderstorms DO occur here in the Holy Land, and that really makes me smile. I love thunderstorms. The smell, the sounds.... aaah, music to my ears. Grab me a nice book, a cup of something hot, and I'm set for the evening! Perfect way to fall asleep, if I do say so myself...
• Ovens here can be extremely temperamental. As we speak, I am baking a cake on the lowest temperature setting... and it's 500 degrees Fahrenheit. Jigga, say whaaaat?!? Just yesterday, it was a cool 300 degrees. Hmmm... curiouser, and curiouser.  
• Plane tickets are a LOT better when you HAVE them and are not searching high and low for the best rate. That's right, ladies and gentlemen, I am now OFFICIALLY bound for the States in Mid-June. June 15th, to be exact. Woo-hoooo!!!

Floating Melodies & the Thoughts That Follow

Violins have a way of bringing me to a distant place...
Their beautiful cascading notes carry me to memories of my early childhood.

Memories filled with my sister and I prancing around my brother, Dustin, as he spent hours practicing and perfecting his skill that filled our home with soul-touching music. I remember bursting forth from other rooms in our house so as to join him and dance many, many gleeful circles around him. Joyfully giggling at my ability to enjoy fully his playing.

Memories of my mom and him playing duets during the evening-- she, on the piano, and him, on his trusted violin as I fell asleep in my bedroom. Or, on that rare occasion, me on the piano, and him, on the violin.

I remember Dustin calling me to the living room so we could play Scarborough Fair together... filling our sunken living room with music as water does the ocean.

We played that song over and over until it was perfected. Us both rising and falling in volume to complement the other. We brought harmonious music into our home that day, and I was pleased with my playing... glad that it met his expectations. And mine. I don't think I expressed my gladness as I had wanted to... because any six or seven year old would rather play outside than be asked to sit in their living room and play during the high-noon sun during the fun-filled summer months. But, nevertheless, I was pleased he had wanted me to join in song.

I remember Dustin encouraging me in my playing. As a child of 8, I played Bach's Toccato in D Minor from memory, and was very hard on myself if I ever made an error. Perfection was my goal, but I lacked the passion that filled my brother's heart when he played. I wanted that passion, but could not find its source.

He would ebb and flow with the music.. much like reeds blow and dance in the wind. Eyes closed, he would dance with the notes that escaped that S-shaped box. Horse-hair bow in hand, it became an extension of his arm... the violin was a part of him, much like I wanted the piano to be a part of me.

I remember watching and listening in wonder as he played, very proud of my older brother. Proud that he found a way to shine, and proud that the time and effort he poured into that instrument were not seen as a chore. Instead, they were a song and dance for his innermost being. Words were not easily formed from his mouth, but every emotion he felt seeped from that violin... no translator required.

He played and played.. through Junior High to College.

He played from his bedroom to the Concert Stage. He was always playing. At family reunions, church events, my Grandfather's funeral, always playing. If he did not have a violin in his hand, he was mimicking the movements with his fingers on arm. Always working with his vibrato technique, always seeking ways to improve.

Riding in his car, I very rarely heard the latest pop or rock song. Instead, I heard Beethoven, Bach, Mozart, and Chopin. Classical music was very much a part of his life, and I grew to appreciate it... following his example.

Just like every Friday you could find my family at the local High School rooting for him on the playing field during the weekly football game, we could be seen at every Orchestra concert.

I can still imagine my sister and I fighting to remain silent during those long, long concerts. Yes, we were proud and excited to support our brother... but wow, two hours of silence in a large, dark room with many crevices just shouting at us to be explored... was difficult. How we longed to go crawling under the many rows filled with people! They would never see us, we thought! We would be secret agents in disguise or explorers charting out new territory! But, to no avail, we remained seated... Never going to where our imaginations dared.

Those are some of the many memories that follow violin playing for me.

I am carried to those memories of delight and joy, even though my brother is no longer with me in body... In memory, he is very much alive.

His playing still fills my heart, ever floating on the violin melodies I hear today. Those present melodies take me to those special places within my mind's eye.

Live in the Moment

In t-minus 9 weeks, I will be heading back to the States.

Nine weeks. 

Those nine weeks are going to zoom by like ....wow, crazy. 

Everyone I live and work with currently will not be returning next year due to visa issues + restraints. And, that leaves me with the feeling of uncertainty. 

I do really love my students and have really grown to appreciate this place and its people, but I am torn. I do not feel like I should stay here longer than this year... I really feel like God has something else in mind. The problem is, I'm just not sure what that task is. 

It's difficult to wrap my mind around all of this vagueness, but I do know that I need to live with a present mind for where I am now. I should not worry or fret about what God has in store for me after this wonderful little journey. My mind needs to be with my body. 

God has placed me here for a specific purpose, and that purpose has not yet been made complete. 

I still have 23 people who I come into direct contact {almost daily} that still need my guidance. It is my prayer that the Holy Spirit would fill me up so that I may pour Him out. I pray that my students see God's heart in me, and that I would not rely on my strength alone. {It's really, really tough when that happens.}

Anyways, here's to nine weeks full of blessings! 

Unexpected Gifts

The wildflowers have been in full bloom here {where of course, grass is growing...}. And, need I mention that the weather is now comprised of those glorious conditions I oh-so-love. The conditions that make up: the in-between stage. You know what I'm talking about.

It's the perfect combination of warm and cool. Crisp. Alive. Refreshing. Wonderful. It's the kind of day where you wake up, desperately want to wrap yourself up in your blankets {prior to and post exiting your bed} and go about your business. "Let's just call these blankets my ensemble for the day," you think to yourself. Because, well, goodness knows that it's a little too cold to think of getting OUT of those blankets you hold so dear. But, eventually, logic wins, and you scurry about your room-- frantically looking for something warm to take the place of those beloved blankets.

And, on that same day, you find yourself basking in the high sun and letting the warmth of its presence hit you-- forgetting all about the fight that you had earlier with the chill, morning air. Because for now you are completely captivated by the sun's being. And you are soaking. it. up. Yes, you, my friend, are lost in the heat of the sun and all the light it brings.

This is the weather I love.

During this particular kind of weather, one can typically find me outside {and, when in the States, amidst trees, river, or lake} enthralled by nature's beauty.

 Here, though, when I remind myself that it's okay to walk outside in the daylight hours, I stroll the streets.

Perhaps I may be going to the same location multiple times in a week, but I try to take in different things that make up my course. One day, it may be the little boy on the side of the street, selling boiled corn on the cob. The other, I'm looking at the buildings, wondering what stories they would like to tell me {if, of course, walls could talk}. Or perhaps, the wildflowers take my full attention as they make their way in between the cement and debris, joyfully clumped together in sing-song groups.

Ahhh... wildflowers.

Strange that many try to rid them from their gardens, when... really, they just want to shout to the world: "Hey! I'm here now!! Look, I'm ready to be noticed! Am I not beautiful?!" Because, to me, these wildflowers are something to take in ....the way you take in a tall glass of sweet lemonade on a hot, summer's day.

Fully.

I guess, though, I'm a tad bit biased because intertwined with this thought, is the deeper, hidden meaning that I cherish.

You see, when I was a young girl, I went to my grandmother's house every day {before I began attending school, mind you} and spent many hours with her. We would go on trips to the grocery store, go downtown to walk through antique shops, or just spend a day at home. Spending time with her was something special, something I valued. I loved everything that we did, and in my five year old frame of a body, I felt that the strongest way to show her that I appreciated her and what she did for us {my sister and myself}... was to show her. Hugs, kisses, eh... I could do that, sure. But that wasn't something special. That wasn't something out of the ordinary. I needed something that she could see. I needed for her to know that I thought of her.

As quickly as the thought came to me, I sprang out the door! Minutes later, I re-emerged after carefully picking up handfuls of the tiny, purple wildflowers that had found their way into my grandmother's backyard. Yes. This was the gift I needed to reveal my true feelings. They were small, sure, but they were beautiful. They brought a smile to my face, and I hoped, would bring one to hers as well.

When I revealed my unexpected gifts, she was delighted and instantly put them in a small, glass jar which she perched at eye level. There, in all its glory, was the small, bundle of joy that Grandmother admired the whole day while it sat on her windowsill. And, for many days following, this routine continued. Never did she once tell me that she could have gotten those flowers if she wanted them. And, never did she once tell me that they were not special.

She cherished them and thanked me many times for my sweet and thoughtful gift.

Now you understand... why I may be a bit biased towards wildflowers. They carry with them a message of value, of worth. But it is not their own of which I am speaking. They bring me back many years ago, when I was shown {yet again} affirmation from my Grandmother. No, not because of the amount spent on her surpassed her expectations, but because she saw the sincerity of the gift. And accepted it.

Flash-forward a few years: You will now equally understand why I was more than thrilled to see, sitting on top of my desk as I gathered my things together this morning to teach, a small pile of wildflowers from one of my students.

It seems my gift of wildflowers has now come full circle, but their message and their importance... remain.

What great, unexpected gifts.

Contentment

Most days, I find myself really loving my job.
Today was one of those days.

Despite the fact that I have to repeat myself a few times and a few students are still lacking the ability to remember the classroom rules--- I really enjoy what I am doing right now.

Ahhhh, contentment. It's such a great thing.

Picture this:

Today during science, as we were reviewing the importance of a turtle in the pond habitat, an inquisitive mind speaks. In response to discussing the turtle's ability to help the pond stay balanced, a student spoke up his concern.

"Miss, what is this?! What do you mean the turtle eats the extra fish??? How does he know which fish are extra?!? Does he line them up?? What is this...??

I just couldn't help but smile.

I then explained to him what the text was telling us, and how to better comprehend the material.

Then, we digressed a bit, and began talking about the whale and its life {We studied the ocean habitat a few weeks ago}. The same student then spoke up...

"Miss, whaaaat??? When the whale takes in fish, what happens next?? The whale has a hole on the top... does the fish fly out?!?" And then, he made a noise to couple that question.


*Wooooooo!!*


Fuuuun, fun stuff.

I love honesty + boldness + truth seekers.

I just oh-so-love my students.

Happy Thursday, everyone!

Our Dialogue...

This week has been a tough one... with blows coming from all directions {basically, a lot of spiritual attack/junk}. And, I have just been taking the weight of everything on my shoulders.

Today, I took a stroll around Bethlehem and went to a local coffee shop where I had this dialogue with my wonderful God...

Me: "Lord, I ask for forgiveness. I recognize that I have slandered who you are with my words and actions.  I pray for a heart bent towards truth, gentleness, humility, and love. I pray that I would not grow angry and sin against you and others. I pray that I show that power does not rest in anger. God, please create a new heart within me."

God: "Angela, you must remember that I am with you -- always and forever. I long to take control of all of your burdens and those things that weigh you down. However, I also long to be the life and the light within you. I long to fuel your mind, your body, and your soul. Don't you understand that when you surrender those things to me, that is love? Surrender those things. Think of and on me. Give me control. Do not think that that is weakness. For in your surrendering, there is strength. Let me speak words out of your mouth. Let me open the blind eyes and soften the hardened hearts-- for that is not your responsibility. You are to be available for my use. I have you there for a purpose, and that purpose has not yet been made complete. Do not let the enemy take control of your mind or your body. He delights in both of these things. But instead, rest in my power, my victory, my love, and my control. I hold the world in my hands, but that does not mean that I am too busy to hold you. I delight in you -- when you are both strong and weak -- I delight in you. Bear my name well. Remember that a heart of worship is what truly makes me happy. Worship me and me alone. Do not let other things distract you from my greatness. Stay focused on me."


Man, I really am not worthy of such a great God. I'm so thankful for His provision, His guidance, and His power. Praying that I would be obedient and always step in faith.

Hallelujah, glory be to my great God!

What Is God Telling Me?

On the same day of the moon sighting, I had talked to my students about the two commands that God gives us in the Old Testament, both of which, are referred to in the New Testament {where we are currently}.

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"25 And behold, a lawyer stood up to put him {Jesus} to the test, saying, “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” 

26 He said to him,“What is written in the Law {or, the Torah - Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy: the Law}? How do you read it?” 

27 And he answered {meaning, the man quoted Scripture}, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” 

28 And he said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.”" - Luke 10:25-28  

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Obviously, the man whom Jesus was speaking to was not dead physically. But, spiritually and emotionally, he was among the deceased. 

And, feeling that my class and I could talk more on this subject, I continued the topic yesterday. 

We talked about how loving God fully is difficult, about what it looks like to just love with one of the four things {or combination of the four}, and how it only comes to completion when you engage all four: heart, mind, soul, and strength.  

I can love God with all of my heart, but if my thoughts, my soul, and my strength do not reflect that love, it is useless. 

I can put my strength to use in God's name, but if I don't have my heart, mind, and soul finding joy in these things... it is useless. 

The list goes on... I'm not doing one thing or the other striving to get recognition. It should be an outward view on what is happening inward. Living life on earth with an eternal focus. Brilliant life. 

Last night, I opened my Bible, and it had opened to Deuteronomy {I was intending to continue to read in Exodus}. 

Deuteronomy 6:5 to be exact. Underlined, the lines of Scripture commanded my attention, and what should they say but:

"4 “Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. 5 You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. 6 And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. 7 You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. 8 You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. 9 You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates."

Wow. 

This just causes me to think stronger on these things. 

How do you show that you love someone with all of your heart? 

With all of your mind? 

With all of your soul? 

With all of your strength? 

How am I using all of these things... to love my Lord, my Savior? 

I know I have a ways to go, but I'm praying for perseverance. I'm praying that I would not become distracted by things of this world. That I would not become distracted with the desire to wed. Or, with the desire to have something I don't have currently.  

I'm praying for wisdom. I'm praying that the love I have for God would always be on my lips. That I could boldly proclaim the love and free life that God gives. That I would dance the joyful dance of freedom... because that is what I have. That is the promise God declares. 

And wow, it's wonderful. Why, oh why, would I ever want something that I perceive as greater?! Is this not the greatest gift of all?? 

Why, yes. I believe that it is. 

Praying that I always rest on this knowledge. That I am a daughter of the Prince of Peace. I have been adopted into His family of saints. How wretched I am, but God delights in me. 

Praying that I am always listening to God's voice so that I can always know what He is telling me. 

The Moon's Pull

A few nights ago, my evening routine was interrupted by one of my roommates. "Quick, come up to the roof! You've gotta see what's going on outside!" And, knowing that she is one after my own heart {when it comes to, well... most everything, her judgment is on-par with mine}, I immediately followed.

Swiftly walking through the front door to our apartment, down the dark hallway, and up the barren stairwell that leads to the roof, I was unsure what my eyes were soon to behold. {With a sudden dust storm this afternoon and electricity going off three times tonight, I'm learning to always expect the unexpected.}

My first glimpse of the rooftop was filled with hazy clouds across the horizon that had a dusty, eerie orange tint. And, I think, is this what you wanted me to see? But, noticing that she was totally engrossed to what was happening precisely overhead, I directed my eyes above.

Wow. Simply, wow.

The clouds were moving at a pace that I rarely see: it was a quick tumbling motion all across the top of the sky. It was as if the clouds were dancing, and some were doing an acrobatic routine filled with somersaults. We were mesmerized by their swiftness. But what really took our attention, was the moon's radiance.

The moon was perched at the top-most section of the sky, hiding behind the clouds. But, when the gaps between the clouds allowed us to take in the moon in our view, it was something beautiful.

The moon, completely juxtaposed against the black canvas of sky, stood out like a floating red balloon in an empty, white room. Every crevice of the moon was visible, and it seemed like we were all so much closer than what we really were: standing atop a four story building. It seemed as if we were sitting in front row center seats admiring a beautiful ballet just a few feet away.

Even though the air was crisp and chilling, I hated the thought of leaving this glorious spectacle. But, I eventually pulled myself away and continued my night routine, keeping the recent sight in my mind's eye.

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I feel like this post sums up what I need to remember time and time again. Don't focus on the haze that is surrounding my view; look up and admire something greater.

Admire the creator.

Observation Skills

Picture This: 

I'm sitting outside during recess, huddled with three of my girl students {all of us sitting in school desks, that are naturally sitting outside}, when one of them looks at my jacket and gives a perplexed look. Noticing this, I ask her, "Taleen, what's up? Why are you looking at my jacket like that? Is there something on it?" Her response: "Miss... what does 'The... North.. Face' mean?? Why does everyone wear this?"{And, when asked who this said everyone was she gave me names: Dad, his friends, you, Sarah, Wisam, and so on, and so on..} 

I then proceeded to tell her that it is a brand of clothing that some people wear for outdoor things, like hiking, camping, etc. etc.

This, of course, took place after the girls had asked about my granola bar that I had eaten prior to this conversation. {Ms., from where did you get that snack?? My mom eats snacks like that...}

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Man, these students. They see more than I give them credit, I think. 

That's something I need to remember. With every glance I give across the room, every word I say, and the way I say it.. they notice. They pay attention to a lot of things that I don't catch until I have time to reflect on them. 

The things that they mention in the class, most times, have something to do with my outward appearance {like the color of my shoes, my hair, my make-up ...really, one student asked me why I always wear the same make-up ...the list goes on!}.

But, what I need to have on the forefront of my mind, always, is how I am representing Jesus in my classroom. Am I being fair? Am I being just? Am I honest? Am I angry-- but not sinning?

Hard things to think about when every second of your day needs to be planned... and five minutes of calm, stillness can immediately erupt in commotion. 

Welcome to the third grade. 

Welcome to life. 

Praying that I always allow Jesus to rule my actions + words + my life. 

Amen, and amen. 

"Donkey" Means What?!?

Well, I guess I really do learn something new every day...

As I was coming home from Jerusalem today with a friend {who also teaches at the school with me}, I was talking about how I wished that I had a cord to hook up my computer to my phone so as to retrieve photos taken on the latter. I then proceeded to whip out my phone to do a little "show-and-tell" of my wonderful documenting skills so she could sympathize with my inability to share my phone's photos with the rest of the world {aka, Facebook}.

Upon looking at a picture with a few students and myself as the subject, I let out a gasp which was shortly followed with: "Oh my goodness! I cannot believe that Layaar is giving me donkey ears!! {You see, here... "bunny ears" that you often see in comedic pictures are not really bunny ears at all. They are "donkey ears"-- and the word "donkey" has a very negative connotation, or so I was told.} "...How could she do such a thing?!?"

I then followed these statements with a long-drawn out story on how I was trying to nip the name calling {especially, calling one another "donkeys"} in my classroom. I told my friend that every time I heard that word used, I would have the student sit down, write their parents a note stating the phrase they said in class--"donkey", and have the note returned bearing a signature from a parent.

A fine, fine act to increase awareness in the home, and I was quite proud of myself.

Until, of course, I heard the next few lines from my friend...

"What does it mean, anyways?" I ask to refresh my mind. {For up until this point, I had thought it was the equivalent to the F bomb or something...}

"Oh, it's just a phrase that means, 'You're stupid.'"

"Wait, that's it?? That's all it means??"

"Yah, I'm positive."

"Sooo, I've been sending these notes home to parents that say their child called another stupid, and that's it??! ...man."

At this, we just laugh.

So, the parents may think I'm traditional. Or, perhaps conservative. Or, maybe just strange. Either way, my students definitely think twice before they call each other donkeys.

I'm changing Palestine, one day at a time...

God's Intention

One thing that has struck me these past few days is God's intention: God really does work + plan all things for good for those who love Him and work to manifest God's glory in and around their lives. And, this is not the "believe in God and everything will be smooth and comfortable" kind of good. This is the "man, live sucks right now... but God is good. I know He holds all things together and that He sees me where I am. I know He is working, and the good He intends is for His glory to be known" kind of good.

Take, Joseph in the Old Testament, for example. He learned this lesson over a period of years and was one, incredible man of faith. Joseph was sold into slavery by his brothers, believed to be dead by his own father, and put into prison by his master who had believed that Joseph slept with his wife. But, Joseph was framed {in all accounts} and had never done any wrong, knowing that his first priority was living a life aligned with God.

While in prison, Joseph meets two other men from Pharaoh's courts and God grants Joseph the ability to interpret their dreams. Because of this, the two men promise they will remember Joseph when they are freed. One, however, is hung shortly after his release. The other, forgets all about Joseph and the promise he had made to him. Thus, Joseph remains in prison.

After two years go by, Pharaoh begins having dreams and the second man, who had promised Joseph that he would remember him, suddenly recollects Joseph and his uncanny ability to do just this. Fed up with all of the other men and their failed attempts at interpretation, Pharaoh is desperate and calls Joseph in. And, God does not disappoint. God gives Joseph the ability to interpret Pharaoh's dreams {both of which, serve as a warning for Egypt, as the land will soon come into a time of famine lasting seven years}.

Because of this success, Joseph is trusted and placed highly under Pharaoh's command, for God was surely with Joseph. In fact, Pharaoh clarified himself to the utmost detail saying that he is only higher than Joseph because of his throne. All other facets of power belong to Joseph. And so, Joseph is made chief of all chiefs and holds all power over crops and rations during the time of preparation and famine for all of Egypt.

Then, a wonderful story of forgiveness unfolds as Joseph is reunited with his brothers. After testing their integrity, he informs them of his true identity, and Joseph's brothers are baffled. Mixed with their astonishment is great fear, for they are afraid that Joseph has been holding a grudge towards them and they do not know what is to come. This fear lasts until the death of their father, but Joseph quiets their fear with these words:

"Do not fear, for am I in the place of God? As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good, to bring it about that many people should be kept alive, as they are today. So do not fear, I will provide for you and your little ones."

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Wow. What a message. To see and understand that God had control over Joseph's life while reading the Bible is one thing, but actually living that life and having that mindset is another. I don't know what my reactions would have been, had I been Joseph. But I pray that I would always rest in the knowledge that God is with me, wherever I go, whatever is going on in life, He is there. His intentions are always for His glory to be known.

I've had this on my mind a lot recently, as February 2nd marked the anniversary of my brother, Dustin's, passing. At the time {and still now}, I am speechless as to why it had to happen then. Life and death are fascinating subjects and the latter is often times, ignored and considered taboo. I don't know everything about life, and I don't claim to. But I do know that I have gained a greater perspective on what life is not.

My life is not fulfilling when I live for me. It's when I live for God where I find contentment.
My life is not guaranteed to last another day. I should be thankful for each passing breath.
My life is not living for life on earth. It's a daily decision to make an impact for eternity.

Yah, it's hard not having Dustin here. It's difficult knowing that I won't be able to make a future with him in my life, but I'm grateful for those moments I did have. I'm even more grateful for the wake-up call that his death had on my life. I hope that I carry out God's intentions for His glory to be known {and not mine} with my life and that it would be evident that He is the reason that I live. And no other.

{And, of course, I wish my wake-up call could have taken on a different form, but that's what God allowed for me. I don't claim to know why it happened, but I do know that it has been a blessing to realize the hope I have in Christ and the abundant life He gives.}

I'm not sure what that wake-up call looks like for you, but I hope that you are able to see God's goodness in it and in the aftermath.

God is faithful.
God is just.
God is steadfast love.
This day.
And always.

On A Typical Day

Sources tell me that we have to do a task at least 21 times for it to become habit. What an interesting thing to think about: that we can be conditioned to do certain tasks, and do so mindlessly. Be it tap your toothbrush on the sink before you apply the toothpaste (to knock off the excess water, of course), sleep on the right-hand side of the bed, or the action of tossing your hair every few minutes. We all have those habits that we do, unintentionally, without real rhyme or reason.

We also have, of course, those things that we choose to do. Day after day. 

Upon waking up, I am now welcomed by the crisp morning air that has filled my bedroom. The bright sunshine seems to suddenly fill every nook and cranny of space I remembered being so overwhelmed by darkness the previous night. (But, with a window that takes up my entire wall, I guess that this is not an impossible task to change from one to the other so drastically.)

In the beginning of a brand new day, I enjoy walking from my bedroom to the living room to sit and pause.

Gazing out of my living room window with my steaming mug of coffee in hand, I love the time I have-- to think and to just, talk with God. This doesn't always happen, but it's great when I make the time to do so. These few minutes of the morning seem to only belong to me, and it's great when I remember to share them with my creator.

I love mornings when I choose to pause and gaze at God's greatness. 

I have several habits (as I'm sure, most do as well) that are sprinkled throughout my day. And, I don't even know if I could tell you what they are off the top of my head. 

But I do know that I would like to say that I take the time to converse with God through all of the many moments that fill my typical day.

That would be a great, typical day for me.

Cheers to making this a habit.... because I hate realizing that I have reacted to a situation without asking for God's assistance in making a judgment. Especially when I am selfish in that reaction.

If You Could See What I See...

I see the sun peeking from behind the clouds after a full day in hiding.

I see houses being washed in sunlight after a long and dreary day of gray rain.

I see full drying racks, atop the roofs, with a layer of plastic to shield the clothes from the day's down pour.

I see cars driving as if they have just woken up; their first movements of the day. I see them creep down the roads that twist and turn through all of Beit Jala.

I see trees dancing in the wind as they are joyful for having a long day filled with a lasting drink of water.

I see wild dogs emerging from their hiding places to stake their claim of the land once more.

I see kids peeking through the windows of their houses to catch a few glimpses of the clear sky as the clouds retreat.

I see a world truly thankful for the water of the day.

I see the papers surrounding me that I must continue to grade....

Seeing the Joy

So, it's Friday. My day off.

hmm... I like days off. I find myself, today, just spending some time in reflection. (That is, after watching a few episodes of Band of Brothers-- a great series, if I do say so myself...) But afterwards, I must get busy with preparing for tomorrow and the following week.

(I'm asking myself the same question: Wait, but isn't this my day off?)

I'm growing in admiration for teachers everywhere, though, as days off don't really exist in this profession. Sure, I may not be teaching today, but my brain is constantly at work. Trying to figure out the best way to discuss the next lesson, discerning my actions + words done in the classroom, and the inevitable task of grading. It never ends.

And, I think this fact brings a freshness to it as well as the danger of it becoming mundane. As with almost any profession, the danger of not seeing the beauty in the day is constantly battling for my attention.

I continually have to remind myself to look at the goodness of the day, and not harbor on those things that tend to bring me down. It's in these moments I have to hold fast to the joys that live alongside me. I have several students who are filled with love (and lots of energy!). They lavish me with smiles and hugs (on all of our days together: the good, the bad, and the ugly).

I have one student who never ceases to kiss me on the cheek when we are sitting outside during break. She is a precious jewel filled with so much love. But, man, she can say some things that surprise. I cannot pretend that the status of the occupation does not pull on her; for just yesterday she made an alarming comment that came from out of nowhere. As she sits at my side, playing with and twirling my hair, -- she erupts with: "Miss, I hate the wall! I can't go anywhere I want! I'm always so bored... I wish that we would have freedom. I don't like this."

This is from an eight year old girl.

She knows nothing of the other side but of the officers who guard the "fence" with their loaded guns, who deny entry to the other side for her family except on days they are granted (which, for most here, does not happen but once or twice a year). While, this side's (our side) soldiers, hold nothing but guns that could be equated with toys... as they are not loaded. Sure, this side has a lot of emotion, but I can't help but think that I would probably have the same reaction if in their shoes. I'm almost positive I would have pains, a head full of confusion, and the immense feeling of inadequacy.

I can't imagine what it feels like to know of a different time. A time better than this one, as the wall was not built but six or so years ago. I can't imagine knowing that my land used to be such and such size, but now is reduced by more than half. I can't imagine knowing friends and family members who have now died at the mercy of a gun, simply for existing.

I know life is hard wherever you are. I know that we all have days that are not what we expected, and I know that we are not granted anything of comfort in this world. But, I can tell you, it's difficult watching those around me suffer.

It's difficult seeing both sides of the turmoil ...in pain.

All I can do is pray. Praying for God to continue working here. Praying that God would work mightily here to mend the hurts that exist. Praying that His goodness would be what holds the attention of the people dwelling in this land. Praying that His steadfast love would occupy the hearts and minds of those I live among. Praying for softened hearts to see His truth. Praying for the spirit of fear to crumble, on both sides of the wall.

Praying that God would let me speak truth and show His love to those I interact with on a daily basis.

Praying that I would continually focus on those joyful moments so that I can continue on this journey that is set before me. Praying that I would always see God in it all.

Job (The Person, Not the Task...)

I write this today to simply acknowledge a life of a man who inspires, challenges, and moves me to become greater.

This man is Job, a man of steadfast character. He was blessed, yes, with material possessions... beyond anything I can imagine. He had 7,000 sheep, 3,000 camels, 500 yoke of oxen, 500 female donkeys, and many, many servants. In fact, he is quoted as being "the greatest of all the people of the east." (Job 1:3)

But, let's take a look at his character, shall we? What was so great about this guy?

Well, for starters, he was steadfast in his boldness, his humility, and his giving spirit.

He was aware of God's greatness and succumbed his life to be what God intended. He was not prideful of the things given to him, and his faith never wavered-- even when everything left his grasp. And, I mean... everything. His family. His possessions. And later, his health... all of it, was taken without warning.

Job's initial response to all of this?

"The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." (1:21)

Even when Job's friends questioned his faithfulness to God. Even when Job did not feel God's guidance; or God's spirit accompanying him, Job remained steadfast.

"As God lives, who has taken away my right, and the Almighty, who has made my soul bitter, as long as my breath is in me, and the spirit of God is in my nostrils, my lips will not speak falsehood, and my tongue will not utter deceit." (27:2-4)

I'd heard of Job's life before, but I'd never really studied it on my own {aka, read the whole book without ceasing}. And let's just say that I am now a huge, huge fan {even more so than before}.

Thank you, Job, for showing your honesty, upholding your integrity, and for living a life that was right before God's eyes. Thank you, also, for showing satan that he holds no power over our great and wonderful God.

"Whom have I in heaven but you? And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." - Psalm 73:25-26

Quote of the Day...

"Miss, 

                  why 

aren't 

  you 

                  married?!?"

Ooohh... goodness..

Exactly.

Some people, I think, wonder how I can move locations, meet new people, be engulfed by different cultures, and adapt so easily. 

My friend, who is here with me, recently wrote about her trip to the States over the holidays. I feel like this next quotation explains my feelings all too well, which is why I have posted them to share.  

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"It was absolutely wonderful to see friends and family and to learn that I can, in fact, go home again. I was able to pick up where I left off and enjoy the company of good people and relationships that are well-worth preserving. What an incredible blessing.


Yet I was also reminded, more than ever, that my heart is now officially in two places. I loved being in America, but simultaneously yearned to come back here - to the places and people that now make Bhem in the W.B. my home. It seems my fate is sealed: no matter what happens, I will always love where I am and miss where I've been. 

I know some of you who have moved can relate. There is a restlessness, though not one of discontent. It aches, but there is a fullness in the gift of being able to love so deeply and broadly. 

...I know there is good work to be done here, and if the light in our kids' eyes and their thirst for knowledge is any indication of God's spirit moving (which I'm confident that it is), it's an exciting place to be in an exciting time."


______________________


This, I think, sums it up. I never know where God is wanting me to go next, and my heart grows heavy with each step taken in the direction He shows. Heavy for the new surroundings, new people, and new circumstances - while, at the same time, heavy for those I have left. 


I care. I love. I cherish. Both.

Not Your Typical Mathletes

"Ok, what's 5 plus 8?" I ask, while looking intently into Miriam and Achmed's eyes.

They both pause, each looking at me to double-check that I don't have the answer written across my forehead or something as blatantly obvious as that. And when no answer is seen, they fidget their hands together in such a way that it appears that they are speaking in sign language. When, what is really the case: they are counting from five with their hands. 

Miriam, impatient, screams, "15!!!" And when I do not give her a high-five to prove that she has conquered this round, she answers again. "No, no, 18!!!" 

"Miriam, you're guessing," I say, "Think about it."

At this, Achmed chimes in, "13!! 13!! 13!!" 

"Exactly! Mabrook! {Congratulations!}" Of which is followed by a round of high-fives. 

Achmed may have won this battle, but Miriam.. she is tenacious. She is determined to take more wins than her challenger. Sure, it may be chilly outside, but the cold is no match for her will power. 

It. Is. On. 

For forty-five minutes today, these two children were by my side. And I drilled them like their lives were on the line. I gave math problem after math problem with triple the amount of high-fives to match. We laughed as we exchanged bits and pieces of Arabic along with our English, and Miriam equally enjoyed quizzing Achmed and I on our knowledge of addition {Achmed and I tied, most of the time.}.

Oh, first graders... They are so full of life. 

These are just two of the children that I am blessed to have the opportunity to love. 

They may not be my own students, but spending time with them after school as they wait for their rides is pure joy. 

I'm so blessed to know them, care for them, and love them as if they were my younger siblings. 

Simply, blessed.