I wanted a break... and I got one!!!

I wanted to have a break in my last blog. I whined about getting some time off.

Well I got it. Thursday and Friday we had "cold days" off from school. This was all great and peachy. I had plenty of time to get my work done and pack for my weekend trip.

AND THEN I BROKE MY LEG!!!

I loaded my car since Kelli called and was on her way. On my way in to get another armful, I slipped and fell on my lovely terra cotta tiles. I knew that I was hurt, but hoped that it wasn't as bad as I thought. As I lay on the floor wondering about the pain and the unevenness of my ceiling as I looked up at it, I didn't want anything to ruin my trip. I almost convinced myself that maybe it was just a sprain. I crawled through the house and pulled myself up on the couch. A few moments later, Kelli arrived. She loaded the car, and talked me through what we could do. We decided that instead of waiting to go to the hospital if we needed to in Louisville, that we would make a quick little stop into the Wooster ER.

After finding out that my leg was broken, filling my prescription for Vicodin, we went ahead and started our trip to Louisville.

Give me a snow day for crying out loud!

The week has gone like this:

Every morning I peep hopefully out my window. Nope. Not enough to call off school.

Yet, by the time I leave my house, there is enough snow to make the roads slippery and my drive into school a terrifying ordeal.

Then, around 1 o' clock, the snow starts to fall again so that we have awful drives home from school.

I arrive at my destination shaken up, but happily in one place without incident.

Until today.

It was snowing like crazy after school when I threw all my school stuff in my bag and headed out the door "before things get worse." The roads didn't seem too bad. There were no cars anywhere. The road appeared clear except for the powdery snow that fell and blew around. I cruised down 30 going faster than I've gone all week on the way home, almost reaching 50 mph. As I neared Wooster, I came over the crest of a hill and thought, "What in the world is that?" There appeared to be a giant rectangular object taking up the entire left and some of the right lanes. My first thought was that it looked like a train wreck. I tried to slow down. My car tried to stop, but the road was ICE. I jerked forward as my anti-lock breaks did their thing. It's a terrifying thing, not knowing whether you will ever actually slow down or come to a stop. I finally slowed as I neared the object, which turned out to be a big ole' wooster sanitation truck (garbage truck) flipped over on its side, and pressing through the guardrail. I slipped by in the small empty space between the truck and the few vehicles that had pulled off in the shoulder to help, but never did make it to a stop.

I feel like every drive I'm forced to make in this snow becomes more and more terrifying!

Seriously! What is the use of snow if it doesn't get me out of school for even a single day! One day! That's all I ask!!!

Snow is supposed to be a happy thing that brings a day off school! Come on!

Gifts

Well, Christmas is almost over here. Not completely over because I can't seem to take down my Christmas tree or the lights outside on my porch. There are still two other houses with lights out on our street, so I don't feel too shamed yet.

The reason I want to write tonight is to tell about one of my Christmas presents. This year Gina returned some memories to me in the form of a shadow-box filled with the letters that I had written her in college. The box of course came with the stipulation that I am to copy the letters and return the originals. The letters were all written between 1997-1999 while I was in my 11-12 grades of school and Gina spent her first two years at Milligan. Reading the letters brought back so many memories as we read them aloud and laughed in our little group on Christmas Eve Eve. They told stories about friends, how I was feeling, who was doing what, who asked who out, what was going on in my family. Sara laughed and said, "It's almost like you were writing your boyfriend or something." I responded by telling Gina, "Hey, you may not have love letters from your college days, but you had me!"

I love the 16 and 17 year old me. I loved her honesty, her innocence, her pure love for her friends. I love how important the little things were. I love that she just poured herself out on pages to show love to others. The letters, which were written on my personalized stationary, flute notepad, and Hallmark cards, are filled with feelings of friendship, loss, love, humor, rejection, and faith expressed through stories about everyday going-ons, funny little antidotes, drawings, quotes, and song lyrics. These were the days when long-distance calls were expensive, so they were rare, before cell phones and e-mail made it easy to communicate. These were the days when it took effort to show someone you cared, and we took that effort. Sometimes the 16 year old me reveals that she is writing in study-hall or chemistry class because she just can't stop thinking about something and has to get it off her chest. Life was in Technicolor. It moved fast. It couldn't wait.

Maybe this is why I have chosen my profession. I love that age. I really care about my students as real people. They may be small people, but they are real people, maybe more real because they haven't learned to hide who they are like we grownups have. All their little problems are so relevant and real to them that my heart just can't help but empathize, because somewhere, deep inside, that 16 year old Carly is still there. While the letters were funny, and I mostly laughed, I sometimes felt sad as I remember the realness of some of the hurts mentioned in the letters. It just helps me to remember again, vividly, how hard it is to be young, and how easily those fragile hearts are injured.

What a treasure has been given to me. To see this snapshot of our lives taken over 10 years ago helps me really value the fact that I still have this important friendship. Although the business of life and some laziness has kept me from really loving my friends like I used to, I remember that it is possible and I also remember how good it feels to love.

Christmas is here!

I can tell Christmas is here because...

There is glitter all over my living room.

Vee-vee wore a little Santa hat.

I'm getting ADORABLE Christmas card pictures of my favorite friends kids.

My students are bouncing off the walls.

The mall is open till 10. (Oh joy!)

The gingerbread man is hanging in his spot.

There is a countdown to Christmas on my classroom's whiteboard.

One of my students built a manger scene out of legos to decorate my classroom.

The bottom half of my fridge is stocked full of Christmas cookies.

I feel the need to decorate myself with lots of jewelry and sparkley things.

Monka and Josh are coming to visit TOMORROW!

I have made plans with my friends for the annual CHRISTMAS PARTY!

I bought Christmas cards just like every year but haven't, and will probably never, send them.

Yay! to all the signs that Christmas is here!

Leading up to Christmas!

It's been an exciting couple of weeks. I wasn't free a single weekend in October and November is pretty much shaping up to be the same way.

Last weekend was the ACSI Convention in Dayton. All the Kingsway teachers went. Pretty much your run of the mill convention. I did enjoy hearing Josh McDowell, the writer of Evidence that Demands a Verdict, speak, which was certainly the highlight. I also liked hanging out with the other teachers. We found possibly the world's best coffee house in Dayton, called Cafe Terra Cotta. The BEST chai tea I've ever had, no question. After the convention ended on Friday, my fellow teacher, Lindsey and I drove to Cincinnati, where Sara lives to do some shopping. I spent more than I've EVER spent at the Gap Clearance Center, but got some really great buys. Tres Fab as usual. On the way home from the Nati, we stopped at the Prime Outlets on 71, and then at Polaris Mall in Columbus where we shopped and ate at the Cheesecake Factory. Yum-o!

This weekend has been a fun weekend of getting some more early Christmas shopping done. I can't wait to put up all my Christmas decor and am thrilled of the idea of putting back up my 12 ft tree! Yay! (See picture from last Christmas.) I've held back in spite of the fact that my some of my neighbors have put up Christmas lights! Next time I post it will probably be with pictures of my house decorated for Christmas!

Well, I'm off. My fingers are too frozen to type anymore. I keep catching Tony with the heat set at 58 instead of the usual 63. I think I better go check, this feels like 58.

My turn for Kingsway 7:45 a.m. devotions

Devotion for October 29, 2008

John 3: 30

I have been asked to do things that I’m not prepared to do. I have been asked to lead classes that I know, deep down, I have no business leading. I have been asked to speak about overcoming things that I fail to overcome daily.

I once gave a class on overcoming fear to a group of women my mom’s age. Little did they know that I am afraid of everything. I am possibly one of the most fearful people you will meet. I’m afraid something will happen to my family members, or my house, or my car. I’m afraid I will fall down stairs. I constantly pray when I’m home alone. I’m afraid of every noise. I’m afraid to drive too fast or do anything that might cause me physical harm like skydiving, or skiing, or jumping off a diving board, or using power tools or seeing another person get hurt doing any of these things. Who am I to teach a lesson on overcoming fear?

A few years back I was asked to speak to a Sr. High group of girls about modesty. I had to wonder if the friend in the ministry who had asked to me to speak was hoping that I might learn a thing or two about modesty along the way for myself. I wondered if he knew that I struggled somewhere between being a woman of God and a woman who loves fashion and wearing the latest trends. Who was I to tell others what to wear?

Every year I attend a week of summer church camp as faculty and nearly every year I almost back out at the last minute because I’m not sure how I can possibly be of any help to anyone in a spiritual sense because of my own miserable spiritual state. Who am I to help them be closer to God when I feel so far away?

And now every few weeks I am asked to speak in front of a group of people who I very well know are leaps and bounds above me spiritually. People whose wisdom I often stand in awe of and feel incompetent to even have a spiritual discussion with, much less guide and try to impart my wisdom (or lack of) upon them. It’s possible that I have found no time more humbling than the days leading up to giving the devotion here.

The only way I have found to approach these situations is with meekness and humility. Leading up to last night I just kept praying, “Lord, find a way to use me. Let something useful come out of my mouth.” This is usually the way I felt in all of the instances I have already mentioned. I think “God, you know that I am not in any position to guide anyone right now, so please transcend my unworthiness and somehow use me for your purpose.”

It’s the times that I feel really prepared and truly confidant that I fall flat on my face. Many times I have prepared a really well-meaning and well-thought out letter, or e-mail, or speech that I feel I need to share with someone. I use carefully chosen scripture and pour my heart into just the right wording. I feel so sure that he or she that will receive this missive will understand my point and their lives will be forever changed by my remarkable rhetoric and enlightened thoughts and this person will be forever grateful to me for turning his or her life around. After all, it must be God’s will that inspired me to confront them with this issue in the first place. He must have expressly chosen me to bear this message to this person. These are usually the times that I undeniably offend someone. These are the times that I’m justly accused of self-righteousness. These are the times that my friend doesn’t wish to speak with me for a few months. And I’m always shocked and dismayed because I thought my intentions were so pure.

I’ve realized that it pays to be inadequate. Only when we realize that we are insufficient to do God’s work without his help, can he use us. When I’m all puffed up with my own importance and the wonderfulness of the things I have to say, hoping that people like it, and then in turn, will like me, God’s purpose gets smothered.

In most of the opportunities to speak that I mentioned above, I realized that I was totally incapable of taking on the task before me by myself. These situations forced me to humbly dive into prayer and scripture in a way that I had probably neglected since the last time I was in such a circumstance. They change my thoughts from, “What can I do or say that everyone will really like?” to thoughts of, “God, just help me get through this, and, if possible, use me.” In the end I’m surprised by the encouragement I receive. I’m surprised when the class or event turns out to be a success. Sure I’m inexperienced, sure I will never be as intellectually elevated as other people, and sure my faith will sometimes be all but lost in a valley. It’s because of these things that I can realize it was by no merit of my own that God reached that anybody, but because He spoke through me when I let him. There is no room for our own glory in the message of Christ. The glory has to be all His.

John the Baptist realized this in his ministry when he states in John 3:30, “He must become greater; I must become less. The one who comes from above is above all; the one who is from the earth belongs to the earth, and speaks as one from the earth. The one who comes from heaven is above all. “

John had been receiving a good amount fame through his ministry and probably could have become more famous if he’d been willing to toot his own horn. “Look at me, I’ve been chosen by God to reveal his message.” But instead he realized that the time had come to turn it over to the one he was sent to announce. He stood to the side and let Jesus have center-stage.

I think that we too can turn over all of our abilities, or lack of abilities as it may be, to God so that he can stretch beyond our inadequacies and do something greater than we could ever do if left to our own devices.

Milligan College Homecoming Weekend 2008 - Class of 2003 Five Year Reunion

I had no idea how much I would enjoy Homecoming Weekend at Milligan. Since we decided to go I've just been thinking, "Well, I hope it will be fun" but haven't really felt super excited about it. As the days drew closer and I started seeing more and more of my favorite Milliganites respond that they were coming I did get more and more excited. By Friday night I was almost in a frenzy to see people from Milligan. Tony and I arrived way too early at the young alumni social and had to wait around to see people we knew, but I was just too ready to kick off the weekend!

Being emotional and nostalgic as I am, I wasn't really sure how I would feel about being on campus. It always makes me sad to go back somewhere and realize that it is no longer the way that I remembered it. This was not the case last weekend. As Tony said in the previous blog, and all of us mentioned to one another quite a few times to one another during the weekend, Milligan felt almost exactly the same. Because we were surrounded by so many well-known and well-loved faces, it felt like we had never really left. The only difference is that now some of us come with spouses and/or kids which somehow just added to the fun. Milligan was exactly the same beautiful, relaxing place I remember it being. The picture to the right is of Derthick Hall, which was renovated during our years at Millgan. It is probably my favorite academic building because all my English classes were held there. Although there have been changes, they have been so well done that nothing really felt out of place. I spent time walking around campus with the people I love, while we all tried to capture as much of these fabulous moments on film as we could. Check out the beautiful view from Sutton Hill, where I lived for three years. The other picture is of me in front of my dorm room door in Sutton.

One thing I always am astounded by when I see my friends from college is that so little has changed between us. Sure, our lives have changed a lot and sure, we have missed sharing a lot of things over the past five years in the way of happiness or hardship, but somehow that initial spark that brought us all together is still there. If possible I think we all love and appreciate one another MORE now that we don't get to see one another that often (or live together and daily become annoyed by one another's idiosyncrasies.)

I was especially thrilled to get to spend time with my roommates from senior year. We even took the time to head up (via vehicle, not walking up Sutton Hill) to our old apartment to annoy its new tenants and take pictures outside the door. We talked about how we half expected to open the door and see the apartment exactly as it was when we lived there. Our old hand-me down couches we attempted to slipcover, our "entertainment" center set-up, our "borrowed" kitchen tables and chairs from Kegley Hall. For a moment I even wished that I could take a nap in my old bed, which has been my all-time favorite place I've ever slept.

The entire weekend was non-stop fun while we made connections with most of our favorite people from our days attending Milligan. We visited professors, walked about campus, cheered at the parade, watched a soccer game, and ate at some of our favorite places. Saturday night we made the most of the last few hours we would get to spend with our Milligan friends. Tony got to watch the Ohio State Game in Webb Hall with his old roomies, while a bunch of us girls (with the addition of some good-natured spouses) went to dinner at a very nice and unique German restaurant in the not-so-nice or unique downtown Johnson City. Over hearty servings of brats, schnitzel, and goulash, we reminisced about the times we spent together traveling Europe. In the end it was well worth the chilly wait for a table to seat 12 because of good food and great times.I can't imagine my life without the four years I spent at Milligan. So much of who I've become depended upon the things I learned there, the people I met, and their influences upon me. Here's to seeing you all in 2013!