In Memory of Tonya and Kyle...

I wrote the following Thursday morning on the airplane coming back from Colorado. Thoughts prevented me from sleeping...

Many poets in history believed that the only way for someone to live on and be remembered was through writing about that person. (Although in this case we are confident that Kyle and Tonya live on in the presence of God.) But it seems right to attempt to put my thoughts into words, knowing that they are scarcely worthy of the precious lives that no longer live in what is temporal.

In the spring semester of 2011 I met Kyle for the first time. I'll never forget the big, goofy smile of a braces-filled mouth that entered my class that semester. I'll never forget where he sat in my classroom—right in front of my desk. I'll never forget that goofy laugh that preceded his visible presence. This kid I loved! He made me smile. He made me roll my eyes—I'm sure—on numerous occasions because, after all, you can't laugh about everything! Or can you? Thinking back, I recall how that laugh was eventually tamed by his maturity and inquiring mind. And then after my time as his teacher, I found him visiting. He would spend breaks and after school sitting atop one of my desks just chatting about life. Conversations led to him attending youth at our church, and there Kyle not only became one of my “kids,” but also my husband’s. Kyle was eager to grow in the Lord and come to understand the grace of God in Christ. His questions led to growth in the Lord and humble service both to his immediate family and everyone around him. I replay late nights sharing meals with him at Cookout on top of the hours this boy spent in our home. From countless hours of community service to dance-off competitions to Just Dance in our living room (yes, there are videos!), I would never have imagined I’d now be writing this. And gosh, he helped us assemble our closet insert when I was way too pregnant to be doing it. (He stayed almost the whole night helping us.) Typing this doesn’t make his absence any more real than before I started writing; he was such a part of our lives for that season. My heart is broken.

Kyle’s faithfulness to our church at the time ultimately led his family there as well. And that's where Tonya comes in. I met Tonya when I had Kyle in class, but didn't have the privilege of really knowing her until a few years later. Her smile was contagious and her laugh filled the room. As a young momma, I loved talking to her. I loved her being real with me, encouraging me, and just dropping by as I managed a newborn, so that I wouldn't have to be at home by myself for a few hours. Tears fill my eyes as I recall her coming over just after Kinleigh was born. I know she and Kyle brought food, or beer bread mix (which I probably still have, since mine is never as good as hers!), or something, but that's not what I remember about that night. I remember her sitting there assuring me that I was okay as a new mom. I remember her talking to me about life and her experiences raising Kyle and now four more. I remember her dying to get her hands on Kinleigh—and she did. :) She held her with such love and grace and comforted her with the bounce only experienced mommas know. I remember countless nights out under the picnic shelter after church just girl chatting with the other ladies. These are priceless moments for a young momma's heart. I remember sitting with her and the family as her momma battled cancer and we were there to celebrate when her momma beat it. I remember how much love filled the room and how close she and her sister were. Her love and dedication to her family was rare and obvious.

One of my fondest and sweetest moments with the Curtis family came when the boys were asking questions about the gospel, and Jerry and Tonya asked us to come and talk with Cole and Austin. Tonya wanted to be sure that all their questions were answered and she wanted them to, once they placed faith in Christ, to be assured of their salvation. She understood the importance of the gospel and how, if truly encountered, it would rock their world. She wanted them to know that when they believed in Christ it was a forever change in their hearts and that nothing would separate them from Christ. Such joy filled conversation that night! How Tonya desired for her boys to know Christ!

Kyle and Tonya, in those years it was just the two of you I know you never would have imagined you would take your final breath on earth together. In a way I see it as such sweet grace from the Lord. Tonya, Kyle loved you so much. He thought the world of you. He admired you as a hard worker, a money manager, and as the rock of the family. Kyle, you know how much she loved you. You were her little man! You two were so close! I always admired your relationship and pray for the same that with our kids. Ending this post seems to make it real in my mind. Were it to remain unfinished, then it might be untrue. But it is. I can't imagine what life without you two looks like for your family and friends, because you were loved by so many. But of this one thing I’m sure: Christ has given you the promise of life and you two are seeing that fully and completely. Worship and enjoy the presence of our great God forevermore, till we meet again.

"Do the best you can and let God's grace get the rest of it."

Avoiding a meltdown at any given moment in any given place. (see pic above)

Waiting for an hour while toddler causally eats breakfast. lunch. and dinner. (I thought I ate slow!)

A tantrum in the middle of a store or restaurant.

A curt remark to my toddler after she asks for a snack for the hundred millionth time within 20 minutes.

Suddenly deciding "I'm going to scream at the top of my lungs when I don't get my way." (*eyeroll)

Falling asleep on the couch while the toddler plays and waking suddenly to realize that your child has been unsupervised during your "nap".

Little fingers under the door when you just need to go to the bathroom just this once by yourself.

The tug on your shorts consistently the entire time you are making dinner, not to mention the whining that accompanies the cute little tugs.

Come on other mammas, you know what I'm talking about.

I've been struggling to parent an almost two year old. There are decisions I'm making on the fly seemingly every second. There's not enough time to think for a day as to whether that decision will have any lasting negative effects or whether that decision is shepherding their hearts as I've been called to do. I've been honest with people that ask about the newborn - he's really no problem, but I'm struggling to parent my older one as she grows and matures daily. And constantly I receive the same advice: "Do the best you can and let God's grace get the rest of it."

Tears flow from my eyes as I write this. MY BEST IS NOT GOOD ENOUGH. 

Those words are scary. Those words haunt me as I think of the responsibility that God's given me in raising and shepherding my children's hearts. 

But in meditating on that phrase, I realize exactly - my best is not good enough. It is not enough to let God's grace get the rest. I need it all. I need God's grace to cover, bath, suffocate even my best stuff I can pull out in my arsenal of parenting (don't laugh, it's slim). I will never be the perfect example that I need to be, but I don't want them to see me as someone that's perfect. I want them to see me as a sinner. I want them to see me as someone saved by the undeserving grace of God. I want them to see me as my heart hurts when I sin and the Spirit calls me to repentance. I want them to see and remember when I hold them in my arms and confess my sin to them and apologize. I want them to see me shed tears for my sin. I want them to hear me say that I cannot do anything right apart from Christ.

And most of all, I want them to see Christ. I want them to see him for the beauty that he is. I want them to see him as the perfect one. The one worth living for and fighting sin for. I want them to see that despite my failing attempts at the fight, he still loves me, calls me, and extends grace to me.

So yeah, my best is not good enough. I'm still trying to figure out what it means day in and day out to rely on the grace of God to parent, but I'm learning, I'm failing, and I'm relying on his grace to pull me back up and keep on.

Your grace is sufficient for me. Your strength is made perfect when I am weak. All that I cling to, I lay at your feet. Your grace is sufficient for me. (Shane & Shane)

Grace and only grace. - j

[aw-then-tik]

1. 
   
   
   
   
   
   
2. This is the word that finally connect my inquiry group today. As we began talking about our inquiries and trying to figure out how in the world we were going to mesh them together for a "documentary". I immediately began seeing a map. I quickly jumped up in need of big paper and markers. I began writing, asking questions, listening, and mapping. Here is what we got:

Wobble - UNCC WP SI style

Oh, oh, oh, oh
All the teachers in the room
(Let me see you just)
Improv it up, write it down
(Let me see you just)
Get messy 'plore around
(Let me see you just)
Meme it up, meme it up
(Let me see you just)

Chorus
Wobble baby, wobble baby, wobble baby, wobble (yeah) (x4)
Write in there, yeah, yeah (x4)
Ey teacher make em' think it up, make em' make it up (x4)

Verse 1:
I got em' writin' it like daily,
Man I'm writing my thoughts like daily.
The haters 'sess the kids like judges,
Cause I'm makin' a dino so lets make.
I'm taking the reigns, the games mine.
Yall witness a change it's my time.
Yea I'm new to the 'stute but yall might wanna see me show success all the time
I could write homie, I don't regress,
Yall looking at something like a true maker.
A teach told me that a man that marked up in red pen is like child abuse in the classroom.
Now all you teachers let me see you curate.
And when it's over you gonna do is remake
Cuz I'm a pro, make ya bend ya mind like you ain't never thougt before like creator

Chorus
Wobble baby, wobble baby, wobble baby, wobble (yeah) (x4)
Write in there, yeah, yeah (x4)
Ey teacher make em' write it up, make em' make it up (x4)

Verse 2:
Teach demo it, and ima adapt it.
I see you movin your head, your head bobblin'
We can cradle that thought in the discussion
The tc's say my head is going to explode now
God help us I'm excited, but I can't think my flow overload
Each got a gift like it gotta be christmas
Swag don't miss it we all got that gift
The dude brought writing and they want pictures
And they want a digital product yo
Little by little we each blossomed in our time
Cuz you can't leave SI unchanged for the near future
Want write? yes you can; you are a good writer
And we will miss you, oh it can't be
that it's over, cuz you got growin'
And I don't think any of us are now finished

Chorus
Wobble baby, wobble baby, wobble baby, wobble (yeah) (x4)
Get in there, yeah, yeah (x4)
Ey teacher make em' think it up, make em' make it up (x4)

Bridge
Mr. Fulton
Oh, oh, oh, oh
All the teachers in the room
(Let me see you just)
Improv it up, write it down
(Let me see you just)
Get messy 'plore around
(Let me see you just)
meme it up, meme it up
(Let me see you just)
Wobble wobble, shake shake it shake it
(Just give it here)
Wobble wobble, just write it write it
(Just give it here)
Show me whatcha wrote show me whatcha wrote
(Just give it here)
Show me whatcha made show me whatcha made

Ey teacher make em' write it up, make em' make it up (x4)

Wait a minute now (x4)
Wobble baby, wobble baby, wobble baby, wobble (yeah) (x4)
Get in there, yeah, yeah (x4)
Ey teacher make em' write it up, make em' make it up (x4)

This is not the end...

With all that we have learned, I feel a little ashamed that I'm simply writing a blog post.  Nevertheless, here goes:

This Is Not the End - Gungor

This is not the end

This is not the end of this

We will open our eyes wide, wider

This is not our last

This is not our last breath

We will open our mouths wide, wider

And you know you’ll be alright

Oh and you know you’ll be alright

This is not the end

This is not the end of us

We will shine like the stars bright, brighter

First of all, I want to acknowledge that these words are totally taken out of the context they are meant for, and honestly I don't even really know the song. But every time something comes to an end, these words always come to mind. It wasn't until I searched to find the song that I realized how perfectly appropriate these words really are. I would like to take a few of these lines and add (remake) a few of my own.


"We will open our eyes wide, wider"
We will be the teachers that look for opportunities! We will open our eyes to see where students are in grammar and meet them there. We will open our eyes to see where our students are in discovering who they are and what their story is and we will give them the free opportunity to get it out whether it be on paper, in digital form, and in make. We will open our eyes to opportunities to bridge the gap between content areas against all odds. We will open our eyes to assess when something doesn't work - even if that means assessing assessment. We will open our eyes.

"We will open our mouth wide, wider" 
We will be the voice of the teachers who long for change - who long to make a difference and break from norm that doesn't work. We will open our mouths to give the students option, to give the opportunity to share their voice, to open discussion to an uncomfortable, yet "safe" zone where the wobble can occur. We will open our mouths wide to fight for our students - to fight against a 70, to fight against the odds stacked against them, to fight against a self-destroying attitude, to fight against traditional teaching that does not help them. We will be the voice of student-centered learning. We will open our mouths.

"We will also open our ears wide, wider"
We will be the hearers of our students story. We will open our ears to their unique words - to their feelings, to their joys. We will open our ears to hear their feedback and use it to form our daily lessons We will open our ears to hear when something isn't working. We will open our ears to hear and assess them during activities. We will listen to what they are saying. We will listen to what they are not saying. We will listen to their opinions. We will listen to the loud student and we will listen to the quiet one. We will open our ears.

"We will open our hands wide, wider"
We will open our hands to what the day has to offer. We will open our hands to help our students. We will open our hands to make and become learners with our students. We will open our hands and drop the red pen. We will open our hands to receive their stories in whatever forms work best for them. We will open our hands to lift them up and encourage them when they are stuck. We will open our hands.

"We will shine like the stars bright, brighter." - 
We will shine. We will stand out. We will be bright. We will make a difference in our classroom. Our classes will stand out. Our learning will shine. Our students' lights will go off. Our students will shine. Our students will soar. Our students will grow as learners, as writers, and as people in our society. We will shine. 


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On a last personal note for now: I'm really sad these three weeks are over. It seems so strange that just two months ago we came together as strangers whose worlds did not collide and now I can't imagine my world without you guys. How has it taken me this long to do SI? You guys have encouraged me, caused me to think, challenged me, allowed me to be free to be uncomfortable, and you have become friends. So enough with the sappy stuff! Love you guys and I look forward to wobbling on with you! Thank you SI for giving us this community. 

The Journey of Inquiry

When I first met with Lil and Steve, I told them that I was interested in assessment because I was conflicted as to how an letter and/or number grade could ever reflect a student's writing. Seriously, though? How can it? As we met during orientation and began mapping out ideas of things that we wanted to inquire about, mine seemed to all circle around assessment (well, for the most part) as seen here.

Even on the first day of SI that we actually put those thoughts on paper and narrowed it down to three, assessment was still on mine, but I felt like there had to be something of more value to inquire about. 

So I started focusing on my middle topic. I wanted to look at how to engage students with real-world writing. After all, I felt like my demo was in that area and I feel like it's an area that I'm super weak in.

I had a rough start to my inquiry. I had trouble finding the right resources that I needed. Maybe I wasn't saying this correctly? Was my topic old news? Was it no longer a "hot topic"? I was about to give up when I finally found some helpful resources in the last few minutes of our time in the library.

But everything changed when I read the article over the weekend about assessment. The tension of grading is more than I can bear at times. So here I am back to assessment. I haven't left my other topics behind, but at the moment assessment is where my mind keeps coming back to.


Rocking the World of Grading

I read the article "Ranking, Evaluating, and Liking: Sorting out Three Forms of Judgment" by Peter Elbow. It totally rocked my world. This is what I sent my fellow 10th grade teacher, Steph:

I finally saw, heard, thought, about the reasons behind things I had seen her model, but never understood. I was equally frustrated but in my "new teacher trying to not be a pushover" I couldn't grasp it. Now, 5 years in, which yes, I know is not much, I am seeing all the problems with grading. I am in constant tension between giving students feedback and useful comments of assessment and the demand for grading. 

Personal Experience with Grading as of Late

I am in a school that went through a pd, if that's what you want to call it, on standard-based grading. Can I be so blunt here? Teachers left the meeting time after time confused because our instructor was using terms incorrectly, angry because disagreements were not handled in a good community, and determined to not do whatever was demanded for the heck of it. What that has left us with is a grading policy which states that 25% of grades are formative assignments (which formatives shouldn't be graded, but whatever, smarter people than me obviously made this thing) and summatives are to be 75% which can be restested with remediation to get a better grade replaced. My heart hurts even writing that.

So what has that looked like in my classroom and in my school?

I see more students cheating, which Elbow talked about in his article. I see more students doing the least amount of work because they can retest whenever it's more convenient for them. I see more teachers being frustrated. I see expectations lowered because after all, formatives are the time to learn anymore, summatives are and you can learn and relearn and relearn some more as many times as you want until you end up with the summative grade that you want (or should I say need)

So how does this apply to the Elbow article and my inquiry of assessment?

I want this environment of this stupid grading system to not control my classroom. At the beginning of the article, he said that assessment drives/controls teaching. So here's my inquiry: If that statement is true, don't I want my assessment to be authentic? Do I want my assessment to control cheaters? Or do I want my assessment to grow writers/learners who have authentic learning experiences in my classroom? I'm trying to figure out how I can apply his premises to my classroom:

1. Less ranking
2. More evaluating
3. Installing evaluation free zones
4. More liking

I know this is specific to writing and I'm bringing a much larger problem of grading into the mix, but I think my inquiry will continue to help me understand both the narrow and larger picture and hopefully transform my classroom into a better place to learn. 

Stupid grades.

Be still, my new momma heart

Oh I needed these words this afternoon.

My days are full at NWPSI, but my afternoons are more full - full of my first priority, being a momma. But today, today, it got the best of me.

I hear the words of the pediatrician from our 1 year appointment. "Expect to start seeing tantrums," in his jovial, but wise voice. Already? He must be kidding.

Today. Today this momma was tested. This mom was tired, trying to prep for demo tomorrow, trying to balance being a mommy and work on a scale that is really simple unable to ever be balanced. In that moment, my heart broke. Why is she fighting me? I know she doesn't mean it, but it's that feeling. All you mommas know what I'm talking about!

It was in that moment of sitting on the kitchen floor, helpless, that I saw my need for grace. This is parenting. The grace that sustains me daily is the only grace that will sustain me as a mommy - to help me love K well, even in the midst of these nasty tantrums.

I looked at Michael with tears in my eyes and had to walk out. I had to leave to situation to deal with my own heart. My heart hurt. My heart was upset. My heart was not ready to speak gently to K. I needed some time with the Father to pray, to seek - to beg for wisdom and grace in my words to her.

A little mommy time at the gym helped me let it go. In the middle of my workout, I looked down to find this:

Michael and Kinleigh were showing me grace. Tears welled up in my eyes. Be still my sinful heart. They were giving me that undeserved favor when I felt like a total failure as a mom. They were showing me to love and grace of Christ. Although a sweet apology from daddy, it was me that I felt like was being forgiven. 

Here's to a new start tomorrow. So for now, two six word memoirs...

mom: always missing it; best ever

family: love more than the world or, if you're in our family, familia: amo más que todo el mundo

Where I'm From as a Writer

This is the rawest - no makeup, fresh out of the shower, in my pjs! 

Who am I as a writer? Meme Essay

I'll never forget hearing these words as I wrote my (what I thought was awesome) story on that ugly three colored lined paper - yuck!

Writing was about perfection - revisions were just rewriting it more neatly.

But then I wouldn't make the grade I thought I should - or better yet, I would put no time into it and still make an A. Looking back I know those weren't perfect papers nor did I put into it what an A paper probably needed.

What does it take for me to be a good writer?

Talk about rough writing....ha!

Professors in college be like:

I struggled when instructions didn't seem clear to me. I wrote in fear that I wasn't writing what they wanted me to write.

Everything changed when I began journaling on my own

My attitude about writing changed.

Now I feel like I can encourage my students as I write along with them.

I had problems writing to a public audience, though. So I identify with that feeling in my students.

I struggle with being vulnerable. Obviously this guy doesn't! eek!

No One Rises to Low Expectations - UNCCWP SI2015

I have been starting and stopping this blog for UNCC Writing Project Summer Institute. I just can't seem to figure out what I want to write about. I know what I should write about, but that's not what is really speaking to me out of this book. I told my colleague that these few words kept haunting me...

No one rises to low expectations.

This is what I have built my teaching philosophy on. I want high expectations regardless of whether they are honors or academic - all deserve to be challenged. What has happened to me as a teacher? Have I forgotten this? I have high expectations for my honors for sure, but do I apply it in the same way for my academic students when my coworkers keep reminding me how they can't do it and I need to not expect much. Is this really where we have landed?

As I read through Teaching Adolescent Writers by Kelly Gallagher, I saw that my expectations for my student's writing was very low - not on purpose, but just because I had no idea what writing could look like in my classroom. Gallagher gave some helpful suggestions on how to incorporate writing in the classroom instead of just assigning and grading, which is where my classroom is at the moment.

I was thankful that he said, "the act of writing itself creates new thinking." Yes, thankfully it does. But how do I incorporate this into my classroom. I want to give my students the opportunity to think. I want to give my students the opportunity to write something that's not graded. I want to give my students the opportunity to spit it out and move on. I'm excited to see the tools that SI is going to teach me and give me time to think of so that I can facilitate this very thing in my classroom.

Another heart-wrenching thought that he gave was "If students don't write at least three times a week, they are dead." Seriously? Ouch! I mean, my students write, but is it helpful? Is it the free thinking, creative writing time that they need? These are questions I am still thinking through and hope to implement in my lesson plans for the Fall.

One last thing I'll leave you with as I'm sure this is "bad writing" is this - He quotes Peter Elbow to say, "a person's writing is often mixed up with his worst." He goes on to say, "I tell them it is a requirement in my class to produce a lot of bad writing. From bad writing, the seeds of good writing will eventually grow. This led me to this original beauty :)

So here's to a summer of a lot of bad writing! Let's do this!

Graduation Day

I wish I had a pic of the four of us when we started this journey together 7 years ago. I remember a promise that @_michaeldwhite and I made to each other and to the Lord was to see these girls through high school if the Lord would allow. Look at the gracious gift the Lord had given! I have laughed till I've cried with these two. I have cried because of heartache and trials with these two. And I've watched them develop into two beautiful women that I am so thankful the Lord has given me the privilege to be a small part of. I watch @_michaeldwhite interact with these two and my heart melts. The relationship the Lord has given us these two and their families is one we will forever be grateful for. Thank you @megangloska13 and @fallynkinman for letting us love you, have tough conversations with you, and rejoice with you in this phase of life. Michael and I love you both - ya know, one of those deep down family loves wink emoticon happy graduation🎓 We are so proud of you!

Growing. Every. Day.

Almost 8 months ago, I held this sweet baby in my arms for the first time. She is growing everyday! I can barely handle it! Oh, little did I know how the Lord would use this look booger in my life. I had no idea how selfish I was...still am. I had no idea how much motherhood would demand...I would give it even more. I had no idea how much love I could have for someone...This reminds me of the love that the Father must have for His only son. I had no idea how much joy this little body could bring to my life...the joy is in abundance. I had no idea how much I would pray that the Lord would make her heart His own...I want her to be with me at the foot of the Father for eternity. I had no idea how much a smile could be contagious...hers penetrates my heart even on the worst days. I had no idea how much I would want to preserve her innocence...but realistically I know that the Father cares far more for her heart than I. I had no idea that when she crawls away that the Lord would speak to my heart even now preparing me for the time that He could call her to go away from us to take the Gospel to others (yes, that happened the other day.) I had no idea why the Lord had given us this sweet gift in this specific time, but with every day I understand increasingly more. I had no idea how her sweet voice singing during worship at church could stir this momma to tears, but she does. I had no idea what joy the Lord was bringing into so many lives with this sweet baby, but He did....He does...and He'll continue to. I praise the Lord for this sweet baby :)

Please, I beg you...

I have started and stopped and started and stopped and have tried to talk myself out of writing this. Seriously, can it not just go away?

It hasn't.

In my 10th grade class today in the midst of a group activity analyzing character, my students began to chatter about 50 Shades of Grey. Do I engage? Do I ignore? I chose to engage. If not me, who?

Can you imagine the depth of sadness in my heart when I listened as my students were aware of their moms going to this? Can you imagine the depth of despair I had for our world when my students (teenagers!) saw that there was fundamentally a problem with this?

On the other hand, I scroll through twitter and see young girls that I know tweeting about their excitement for this movie to come out? Can you believe the brokenness and confusion when I see that some of these girls are engaged in a semi-local mega church?

Dads and Moms, we are failing. Churches, we are failing.

Dads first...

You are the head of your household. Whether you are a believer in Christ or not, you are the head of your household. Please, guard your ladies' hearts. Remember the time you first held your wife in your arms. Remember how precious that was. Remember how different that was. Remember how pure that way. Remember how you loved her far more than the sex that she had/has to offer. Remember the joy you experienced when you found out you would have a baby. Remember holding that baby in your arms. Dads of girls, remember how you would hold her in your arms and swear you would kill any man that would dare to harm you daughter. Remember? Then kill it. Kill this sin in your home. Guard your daughter from the false teaching that she has to be controlled and "submissive" (in the non-biblical sense) to be loved.

Instead, teach her of Christ and His love for the church. Teach her of the all-surpassing greatness of the King of the Universe and how he has made a way in Christ for her to be a daughter of the most high God. Teach her to love Christ, love His Word, and love His church. Teach her to submit herself to the Lord and pursue Him. Teach her that God cares for her heart more than you or any man ever could. Teach her that God is Jehovah Jireh and He will provide for all her needs. Most importantly, as you do this, pray. Pray for your wife's heart. Pray for your daughter's heart. And pray that God would guard them by His Spirit in the Lord's grace.

Moms...

I beg you, please, for the sake of your daughter watching you, please say no. Please, don't go watch this movie. Don't let this be the book that your daughter sees you reading. Don't let this be the book that she picks up and begins to read and is sucked in only to find that she is finished the book before she even realizes the darkness that has entered her sweet soul. Don't you realize that even though your daughter "hates" you and you "embarrass" her, she is watching your every move. She sees the way you interact with your husband. Or, she sees you and how you handle yourself as a single mom. She desires to see you live rightly. She desires to see how to live purely. She desires for you to love someone greater than yourself who can satisfy more than sex. Moms, please teach your daughter that sex does not gain her the relationship that her heart desires more than anything.

Daughters....

I beg you, please, please don't read it and don't watch the movie. Guard your heart. Please know that it was not God's design for you to be exposed to such things at this age - much more, at any age. God's design is for a marriage that mirrors the relationship between Christ, His Son, and the Church. This type of relationship is pure. The kind of submission that God has outlined in His word is not the kind you will find in the movie. God made it clear when he said through Paul, "Husbands, love your wives as Christ loves His Church and gave himself up for her....Wives, submit to your husbands, as unto the Lord." This is a sacrificial, unconditional love - not a love based on sex games, control, etc.

Please, please, hear me. Despite what culture is telling you, sex does not get you a boyfriend that you want. Sex was designed as a benefit of marriage, not as a way to give a guy what he wants in hopes that you, then, will be good enough. Please, please, hear me. If a man has you do something that you are uncomfortable doing, that is not love. Instead, sweet girl, run to Christ. I know that hole in your heart that desires a man. I know that excitement that you get from this romantic story that our culture tells over and over again. But, can I tell you something? The romantic love story that God writes is so much better. I know that's easy for me to say, right? I'm married. But trust me. I've been in bad relationships. I've been on the wrong side. The story that God has given me was nothing that I chose - it's so much better.

If you read, I'm not judging. Please, Lord, know that I am not judging. But, with tears in my eyes, I'm begging you to "run from evil, and cling to what is good."

I need grace...

As I recap my day, I look over to see a sick husband, I check in to see a sweet sleeping baby, thinking about all the things I need to do, want to do, should do, and I conclude: I need grace.

I need grace...when I'm trying to get myself out the door plus a wide awake little Kinleigh and things just aren't seeming to work.

I need grace...when I get to work later than I wanted to.

I need grace...when I don't get my way and instead of repenting of the sin that places myself before others, I insist on my way.

I need grace...when I'm trying to out the door and my husband wants to talk and doesn't move as fast as I think I need him to.

I need grace...when my selfish, anti-morning self harshly responds to my husband.

I need grace....to not say what my sinful self wants to say.

I need grace...to rely on when I say it anyway.

I need grace...when things just aren't seeming to click.

I need grace...so that my marriage resembles the marriage of Christ and the Church.

I need grace...to love my husband well.

I need grace...to encourage my husband.

I need grace...to care for my husband.

I need grace...to prep baby food...again...tonight.

I need grace...to fix yet another bottle.

I need grace...to love my baby in the midst of the tears.

I need grace...to point K to Christ in everything that I do - in celebrations and in discipline.

I need grace...when I'm at my wits end and I just don't know if I can take anything else.

I need grace...when I lack wisdom.

I need grace...when all I hear/see from my students is blatant sin in their lives.

I need grace...in knowing how to respond to sticky situations.

I need grace...in carefully pointing those students to Christ.

I need grace...to love the unloveable.

I need grace...to not make Christ or His Church look bad.

I need grace...when I see tons of posting on social media on how to be "skinnier", "healthier", and "attractive-er" (haha).

I need grace...when society tells me that my post baby body shouldn't look post baby.

I need grace...when I don't make it to the gym.

I need grace...when I judge myself for everything I have done and criticize myself for everything not done.

I need grace...to say no.

I need grace...to say it is okay.

I need grace...to run to Christ.

I need grace...to flee evil.

I need grace...to love well.

I need grace...to serve well.

I need grace...to live well and make much of Christ.

I need grace...and that grace in found in Christ.

So in the bustle of my week and increasingly in my weekends, I'm desperate for grace. I'm desperate for the Gospel that saved me - in making a wretched sinner a daughter of the King apart from anything that I had/have/or could have ever done. In the grace from Christ, we are free to fail and cling to the cross for His complete, satisfying substitution for every failure that we had, have, or will have.

I HATE LIFE

I have sat down to write this post multiple times since Monday and I haven't been able to bring myself to it, so here goes...

"I HATE LIFE"

These are the words that I slowly saw forming on graph paper during the exam I gave on Monday. That visual I cannot shake from my mind.

Before she shaded it in darkly, I thought that was what she was writing, but I wanted to believe that I had not seen what my eyes bore witness to. So I circled around the room, slowly this time so she wouldn't think I was just walking slower around her. That meandering walk revealed what I wished was not true.

"I HATE LIFE"

I guess the first thought that would pop into anyone's mind is - Why?

However, I couldn't find any questions in my mind. I wanted to poor my heart out to her. You see, that was me.

My early years in high school left me broken - feeling alone, worthless, mad at myself (actually I hated myself), and hated life.

Even writing those words makes me ashamed. 

I thought my worth was in looks. I was overweight. I thought my worth was in friends. I didn't have true friends. The ones I had didn't act like friends to me. I thought my worth was in a boyfriend. No one was interested in me. I thought my worth was in being nice and loveable. I was confrontational and angry. I thought my worth was in a perfect family. Mine was not. I thought my worth was in fitting in. I sat on the outside (at least in my mind). And when I tried to make my worth and find it in those things, one problem still remained - it didn't bring me joy.

So what did that look like? It looked like me wishing my life away. It looked like thinking about opening a car door as the car was driving. It looked like going in my room and crying with unbelievable hate for myself. It looked like an eating disorder - not eating. It looked like anxiety - severe anxiety attacks. It looked like withdrawls from anxiety medication. It looked like me withdrawing from everything I once knew. 

But God...

But God had a plan even in the darkest time in my life. In all those feelings of worthlessness I had nowhere else to turn except to the One I had heard about my whole life. He led me to his word when I had no desire for it. But what other option did I have? I'll never forget reading the God-inspired words of David:

Save me, O God!
For the waters have come up to my neck.
  I sink in deep mire,
where there is no foothold;
I have come into deep waters,
and the flood sweeps over me. (Psalm 69:1-2)


Yes, God this is how I feel. Those words seemed to read my heart in a way I could not communicate. The longings I had that I could not attain, the wickedness I had but could not kill, and the brokenness I had but could not heal, could it be that the same God who rescued David rescue me from the mess of a life that I have? The spirit kept beckoning me to His word. I found myself calling out the same prayer of David::

I am weary with my crying out; my throat is parched. My eyes grow dim with waiting for my God. More in number than the hairs of my head are those who hate me without cause; mighty are those who would destroy me, those who attack me with lies. What I did not steal must I now restore? O God, you know my folly; the wrongs I have done are not hidden from you...

But as for me, my prayer is to you, O LORD. At an acceptable time, O God, in the abundance of your steadfast love answer me in your saving faithfulness. Deliver me from sinking in the mire; let me be delivered from my enemies and from the deep waters. Let not the flood sweep over me, or the deep swallow me up, or the pit close its mouth over me. Answer me, O LORD, for your steadfast love is good; according to your abundant mercy, turn to me. Hide not your face from your servant; for I am in distress; make haste to answer me. Draw near to my soul, redeem me; ransom me because of my enemies!

But I am afflicted and in pain;
let your salvation, O God, set me on high! (Psalm 69:3-5, 13-18,29)

Oh was I praying that the salvation of Christ would be my joy. Oh that the salvation of Christ save me from this mess I was in. It wasn't in one night. But over the course of months, the Lord changed my heart. He didn't excuse my sin, but He showed me a Savior in his word that took on my sin as a perfect sacrifice so that I could come before a holy and righteous God. It was through the Gospel that the Lord began dealing with all this pain in my life. He began exposing dark, nasty sin in my life and with the Spirit's help, killing it daily. He began to teach me to surrender my life to him daily so that I could live in a pleasing and honorable way to him. It was also in the Gospel that he showed me unbelievable, undeserving grace in that he would rescue a nasty, evil sinner like myself. And I needed rescuing.

See, it was that truth that I am praying daily that the Lord will one day allow me to share with that young girl. I wanted to to share with her the only ONE who could change that sentence: I HATE LIFE. She didn't doodle that because she loves writing those words on paper. She's begging for a answer. She's longing for a lifejacket as she's sinking with her head barely coming from the water. She's looking for pure joy. She's looking for something to satisfy that God-given desire to be satisfied by her Creator. 

My prayer is that she will be able to pray: "Let your salvation, O God, set me on high."

Faith Without Borders

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders

Let me walk upon the waters

Wherever You would all me

Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander

And my faith will be made stronger

In the presence of my Savior

                                     ~ "Oceans" by Hillsong

Last night I went to the gym for my normal workout. Little did I know the Lord would use that hour to quiet my soul and speak to me. About 45 minutes into the workout, this song came on. I was just singing and lifting along until the bridge played and the Lord silenced me. There I stood toning my arms with tears coming to my eyes. I know this maybe sounds cliche but the Lord challenged me. Could I really sing this song? Could I really sing this bridge? Lord, can I really say take me where my trust is without borders? Really, Lord, really? 

With everything in me, I want to say, "Yes." Oh, do I want to say, "Yes." But instead there I finished my workout in silence unable to kick those words out of my mind.

Lord, what would that look like?

Would that mean that I uproot my family and move somewhere distant from all family and friends? 

Or would that mean that we stay and continue doing ministry here?

Would that mean giving up my job?

Would that mean that you send us to a foreign country like some of our other friends?

Would that mean that you send us into dangerous territory where there are bombings and other life threatening situations like some of our friends?

Would that mean that we would lose our sweet baby like some of our friends?

Would that mean being arrested for spreading your word? We know some of those people too.

Would that mean one of our lives being taken?

You see, even in asking those questions I have already shown that my faith is not strong. I want answers. I want to know what may happen. And to be honest, I fear some of those things. 

But what is fear? Hasn't God conquered that fear in Christ? He sent Christ to die and take on His full wrath that I deserve. This should be the only thing to be feared, and God in Christ has satisfied it.

So what is this other stuff? This is my humanity. This is my fear. This is my desire to have my family, to be comfortable, to have things "easy." Honestly, who doesn't want those things? But for those things to get in the way of my trust in the Lord is the problem.

You see, faith without borders can't be restricted in my perfect little picture of a family living in a small town where everybody knows your name. Faith without borders can't be okay as long as I have given my stamp of approval. Faith without borders can't be me deciding anything. 

Faith without borders is where we are. Now. 

We would have never imagined being where we are at this stage in our lives, but we know that God has an awesome plan. We know this because he has sustained us during this time. Although sometimes my heart wants to break for what we have been through the past few months, the Lord reminds me that he's got this.

So back to the song .... I'm still not sure I'm "comfortable" singing those words, but with a deep breath I cling to God's sweet, sustaining grace and say...

"I will call upon your name

And keep my eyes above the waves

When oceans rise

My soul will rest in Your embrace

For I am yours and You are mine."

Playing with Hacking

Keith Neal

Thankfulness in the Midst of Struggle

I'd be lying if I said we weren't struggling right now. Our hearts are often heavy. Our eyes are weary. I watch my husband work endless hours days and nights. Our future is uncertain, but I'm thankful.

I'm thankful for this uncertainty. I'm thankful that the Lord has used this uncertainty to expose how sinful my heart is, how dependent I want to be on myself and my husband, and how, when left with nothing more than my impure thoughts, I'm forced to go back to the cross and surrender.

My heart is refreshed with these echoing words in my heart:

"Nothing in my hand I bring,
Simply to Thy cross I cling;
Naked, come to Thee for dress;
Helpless, look to Thee for grace;
Foul, I to the fountain fly, --
Wash me, Savior, or I die!"   ~ Rock of Ages

As we anticipate the arrival of our daughter in the next few days, we are humbly thankful for this gift of grace that he's given to us. We are thankful that he has entrusted to us the greatest ministry we could have - in our home, raising our daughter to be a true worshiper of the One true God. We are grateful for the opportunity to pray for her - to pray that the King of all the universe would make her heart his own, to pray for her a godly husband (yes, we've been praying this), and to pray that she would be used by God in mighty ways.

In light of one of the biggest changes we may ever face in our lives coming any day now, we rest in our sovereign Creator who does all things well and so that His glory would be known over all the earth. So despite the uncertainty that lies elsewhere in our lives, we will rejoice and choose to rest in our good God who is intimately involved with His creation.

Yes, nothing in my hands I bring, simply to the cross I cling.

May God hide us behind the cross as He acts mightily in our lives and in the lives of those around us.