Faith

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This post may come off a bit trite. I hope not. And I wish the story were complete, but it's not, either... but I'm feeling the need to acknowledge the universe for a bit, and writing things out always helps me.

So, I accepted the job. And my house is on the market. It's shown 2x since going on the market, and, well, that's discouraging.

I've been looking for a place to live where the new job is. I have wrestled with whether to buy or rent, because I have this house sitting here... and I finally settled on buying for several reasons: my parents are helping me make this happen, and two - the words from a friend of mine when I asked him his thoughts:

I'm looking for a house, and it's a financial & real estate transaction. You're looking for a home, where your kids will spend the years making a lot of memories that will carry them forever. While they certainly can do that from a rental house, if you're in a position to buy, it gets you all settled and focused on other more important things.

He's right. I need to be focused on other things for their sake. They are the main reason I'm making this move.

He also said this:

As for the parents, I think its a good thing. Your time in ____ has been asserting how things now work, and they seem to get it finally. They've put out their rules respective to this transaction, you have your own. I'd say appreciate it and take it.

I've gone to look at houses four times now. The third time I made an offer on a house. My mother, after looking at the pictures of this house, was not happy. The owner countered, and we ended up walking away.

The fourth time I went, I went with my parents. Most of the way to meet them, I prayed. I cried, prayed, and finally felt a peace. My prayer was simple, in many ways. I asked to be held, and I figuratively climbed up into God's lap and felt comforted while I cried. After I poured out my heart, I asked for clarity in knowing what I needed to do. That if I found the house I was supposed to have, that I would be given a sense of peace and knowing that I was in the right place.

So, when my parents and I looked at the house I had made an offer on, Mom's reaction to that house was clearly not positive. As the day progressed, I felt a greater sense of defeat. I found one house I liked, but it wasn't quite right.

I did gain clarity, though. I gained a sense of what it was my parents wanted. They didn't want to tell me what to do, but they want my children and me to be in a place that doesn't cause them to worry. And, more importantly, they want to do what they can to make that happen. As a daughter, I had to reconcile the competing need I have to be independent and a grown up who doesn't need support with their need to still be my parents. Add to that the reality that they are in a position to make possible for me something that I clearly need, and honestly, that they need, too. In accepting that, I gained peace. As painful as that has been, I got a pretty powerful answer to prayer.

So, that night, I changed the parameters of my search. I started looking at homes that cost more, but that are move in ready.

The next morning, a house came on the market that in pictures, is perfect. Exactly what I would want.

Yesterday, the second day the house has been on the market, my parents went to pre-screen it. They called while they were in the house and told me I need to make an offer. So, I talked with the realtor and I'm going to see this house today. I've also sent her my pre-qualification letter, and will likely leave her an earnest money check today prior to submitting the offer with my realtor, who is not available this weekend.

In the meantime, another offer has already been made on the house... the owner is waiting to accept it because the realtor knows my story and would like me to have an opportunity to present an offer. So that means I really don't have much negotiating room.

Sigh....

I'm seeing answered prayers right and left, truly. Timing is very intriguing, too. At the same time, the sense of internal stress is high, because I don't like competing for a house. I can accept that I might not get it, and that I may need to walk away. The child in me doesn't want to, though. I want this house.

So, in writing this, I'm in many ways writing out a prayer. One for faith in God's plan, in walking through open doors, and in trust that things will work out as they should be. I can feel it, deep inside... but I can also feel me trying to wrestle this one away from God. I'm trying to approach the next few days from a faithful position, not a faithless one.

Things will be as they should be. Amen.

Open Doors

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So much has been on my mind for so long,

so with apologies in advance, this will be long.

This story, however, is not really for the current readers of this blog,

although I know a number of you

will read with interest, because you love me :).

This post is really for my daughters at some point in the future.

Thank you, digital footprint, for preserving this story for them.

There is something to be said about loving what you do. If I were to create a job description that had everything that I could possibly want in it, the job description would be that of "Mentor Leader," which is what I have been for four out of the six years I have taught in our cohort program.

A Mentor Leader is a professor within the College of Education responsible for leading a cohort of students, typically women (but not always) through the last two years of college. We start a group of students at the beginning of their junior year and teach them their last four semesters, plus arrange field placements and supervise them in elementary classrooms - really getting to know their strengths and weaknesses. As a Mentor Leader, I teach the courses that I feel are most important in my students' development in thinking about teaching, so I am able to scaffold their learning and help guide them into becoming developmentally appropriate teachers who can think for themselves, and think critically about what they do and why. In many ways, I also become their professional parent. They lean on me not only for professional support, but I frequently get to be the shoulder they lean on for personal matters.

I love the relationships that form in the cohort program. I've had more job satisfaction in this job than I have ever had before, mainly because I get to be a part of the development not only of individuals into teachers, but also their development into a living, breathing supportive group who are so very special to me. The women I've taught I've invested my soul into, and I am so proud of the teachers they have become. My sense of purpose has been sky high.

About a year ago, I found out I would not be a "Mentor Leader" to the group of students who started last Fall. After I got over the shock, and fully digested the reasons, which I couldn't argue with (the best way to learn the program is to be a Mentor Leader, and we had someone who needed to learn the program - I was the obvious choice to handle some other issues that had been percolating), I thought to myself, "Hmm. I wonder if it is time to start pushing on some doors."

I've long said that paying attention to the signs around you is a way of knowing what God is saying. It's up to us to look and listen. And then push on doors that He seems to be pointing to... if they open, walk through. If they are hard to open, quit pushing. You're not supposed to go that way. Pay attention. Trust your gut. And either walk through or stop, based on the answer that you get, without regret or thinking, "what if?"

The door pushing thought emerged primarily because of timing. I've often thought I would not be able to leave a cohort I was leading midway through the two year period. The change in my job description caused me to examine other factors not related to work. First and foremost, I couldn't miss the fact that both of my girls would be transitioning schools at the end of this academic year, which is when the midway point of a cohort I would have led would have been. Sign number one.

This fall was one of the hardest I've experienced in this job. While I enjoyed my new responsibilities and the new courses I was teaching, the job change actually took me away from my children several nights a week, and we suffered as a family. I alluded to that here and here, and maybe some other places. Additionally, I became more and more frustrated with my children's school experiences. They were not getting what I wanted them to get at school. I also watched and listened to my children express frustrations with their father. Their relationship seemed to be suffering. I started looking ahead at what the next few years would look like and I realized that their visitation schedule would be severely limited due to extracurriculars, dating, parties, etc. All seemed like signs I needed to pay attention to.

So, I started trying to push on different doors. One door I explored, and I've long played with, is the idea of leaving the college level and going into school administration. I started the coursework for it as part of my doctorate, and I hated it. I honestly felt the soul being sucked out of my body during those classes. So, I stopped - it's one of the few times I've backed out of something I started. Still, I continued to entertain the idea at various points. Most recently, I've talked with people I work with about doing the coursework here, and even applied for admission - only to hit some major road blocks. I took the test for certification on the state level and passed, but didn't go through with the paperwork for no particular reason other than I just never got around to it. Last fall, when I started pushing on doors, I went and inquired about it... only to find out that I had inquired a day after the rules had changed and I was no longer eligible to go that particular route. Um... hello. Quit pushing on that door.

In the meantime, I started paying attention to job postings near Atlanta. Two popped up, and I explored the websites of the institutions. One of the jobs had popped up last year, and I eyed it then, but determined in my heart that it wasn't time, so I didn't bother to apply. The other job is one I've just waited to open up.

I pushed on the door and applied to both. But only to those two.

What did I find out?

I'm marketable. I got interviews at both institutions. Wow.

I interviewed at one in mid February, and I knocked the interview out of the park. Research presentation - stellar. Teaching demonstration - incredible. It was one of those times where you just know how well you did not only intuitively, but also in how the conversation shifted as part of the interview.

I also had some concerns that emerged during the interview. I wondered, out loud, during the interview (geez - that was rather gutsy of me, now that I think about it): Would I be able to build the relationships there that I have been able to build here? Would I be happy with the volume of students who come through? What about field supervision? Most professors don't do it - how could I frame my teaching without that? How did they justify changes made to courses if they weren't in the field knowing what worked and what didn't? If they weren't really in touch with trends in the schools? Further, could I supervise students if I wanted to? I challenged the professors I talked to, and honestly enjoyed the interactions and the conversations.

I left there knowing I had a decision to make. So I started processing what it would look like to take that job. What would it mean for my family? What would life look like there? Could I be happy, given my reservations? Am I done here?

So, what have I thought through?

• I've spent the past six years healing. I'll likely always be healing, but I feel more whole now than I ever have.
• My children and I have grown together. We are a family - a whole, unbroken family.
• While we may be a whole family, the relationship between my girls and their father has suffered. I don't want that for them.
• I've long been unhappy with the school situation my kids experience - It seems at many school functions we've been to that the most recurring thought that has emerged is that they are mired in mediocrity, with a few bright exceptions to the rule. Meetings, ceremonies, etc - all have felt like going through the motions and have been quite painful for me as a career educator. I've looked for a number of alternate solutions, including home schooling.
• I love my job. Love my job. Let me say it again. I love my job. How many people can honestly say that? I love my job. Redundant? I don't think so. I love my job.
• There's more to a whole life than a job.
• Target. I've missed Target. [kidding, a little... but shopping opportunities are plentiful where this job is]

Clearly, I've prayed. Thought. Digested. Driven around with no radio on so I could think. Listened. And in the end, I've felt a peace about my decision - everything about it feels right, and I have complete faith and trust that things will work out as they should. I've imagined life continuing here as it is now, and there as it would be.

When the call came, I accepted the job offer without reservation.

A bittersweet decision, because I obviously love my job. I do not leave this job easily, and that is by far the hardest thing with which to come to terms. The new job, however, is 20 miles away from the girls' dad, rather than the two hours away we are now, and he will have the opportunity to be more involved in their lives if he so chooses. If he chooses not to, then the fault lies with him and not with me. I have a sense that the girls will get what they need at school, and that it will also be easier for me to advocate for them. I also have a sense that it may take awhile for me to be as satisfied professionally, but that there is abundant opportunity for me to shape the job in the way that I need it to be shaped based on my family's needs. It's a matter of being patient, strategic, and thoughtful - skills I've certainly honed here.

The whole picture makes sense to me - there seems to be a balance that has been missing. So it is with complete faith that I'm walking through this door. No regrets. No what ifs. And faith that the logistical things, such as selling my house, will work out as they are supposed to.

There is much to do between now and then, particularly at work, where I have my fingers in a number of projects. I am committed to not leaving my job until I leave my job, so I anticipate the next few months at work being very full. There's a reason I have a good reputation on campus, and I can't even begin to imagine doing anything to change that at this point. That is a very good thing.

My girls are excited about the move, although nervous, too. The unknown is scary. I hope and pray, though, that this opportunity will help them further grasp what courage, possibility, and hope look like. That they learn how to test doors, look and listen to what God is telling them, but more importantly - they learn that it's ok to imagine life differently, and if it's the right thing, then make it happen, rather than letting life happen to them.

Silence

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Yesterday morning I did a Multiple Intelligences Inventory with my students - something I've done for the past few years when I teach this particular course. And just like every year, I take it, too, because inevitably what is strongest for me has changed. The ones I expect to be strong are, but whichever one is the strongest changes from time to time.

What struck me this time was one of the indicators, found in Musical Intelligence (one of my stronger ones):

"Concentration is difficult for me if there is background noise."

That's an easy one for me to check. That's why I can't work at the office. That's why I frequently work in silence at home. When I did my dissertation, I usually worked at night after everyone went to bed.

This time, however, it struck me because the radio in my car has been silent for the past few weeks. I haven't even thought about it.

I've had a lot on my mind. Some big things that I've needed to think through regarding sorority, school for the girls next year, not to mention professional and personal concerns. I've noticed for awhile that when I have to process things, I need to be by myself and noise needs to be diminished, but I've never connected it to Musical Intelligence.

I've found it interesting that I really haven't written about all that's on my mind. It could be that another one of my strongest intelligences, the Intrapersonal one, has kicked in. I often use writing to help me process, but that is usually when I want the thoughts to come out, not stay in. These thoughts I've needed to live with for awhile - just to see if I can be comfortable with them. Likely why I've been silent here, too. I'm just not comfortable enough for a larger audience to play with my thoughts yet. A few people have been privy to them, but as a whole - these thoughts live with me right now.

The radio will be back on soon, and then I'll be able to let those thoughts spread their wings. I know that I'll be writing about them, because I want there to be a record of them for my children to see when they get older. One thing I can say at the moment is that I'm certain that it's time for a new chapter in my life. A large portion of that new chapter is nothing but attitude - how I look at things; others are much more concrete. The impact of that new chapter is far reaching for my family.

In the meantime, I'm looking forward to the shift that comes from not just imagining life differently, but from actually living it differently ... for now, though, I'm sitting in silence, watching the pieces rearrange themselves and fit into place in a way I had not imagined before.

Voices Inside My Head

Yesterday night, my youngest informed me she wanted to go to church this morning.

Let me back up a minute and explain why this is interesting. Prior to moving here, we were at church every single Sunday. As part of the move, I made a decision that it was time to explore my spirituality a little differently. We went to a church about an hour away then, and it was exactly what I needed at the time - very progressive, liberal, and a place to heal. But then it wasn't. So we stopped going. It was hard to get there.

I tried going to church where I live, and became intensely frustrated. I'm just not a match for what I'm hearing, and there are some services I just can't stomach, so there's no reason to even try with them. Regardless, going to church served to take me farther away from where I was than where I needed to be. So we quit going.

In the past few months, both girls have deepened friendships with children who attend a church that can be in my comfort zone, and I've encouraged them to go. So when my youngest said she wanted to go to church today, I fully encouraged it, and went with her. Her motivation, though, is to have the opportunity to play with her friend - there isn't a spiritual reason for it, really. That's fine, though.

I do want them to develop spiritually, but it's been hard to do that formally because of location.

So, today I went with my youngest - and I left the service with many voices inside my head. And I've had to write them out, because a)I have other things I really need to focus on and b) they have been festering. If a sermon is designed to make you think, then kudos to the minister, because that is indeed what happened. So here they are:

1. This church has a very White population. There was also an insert in the bulletin about the evangelism committee. The expectations listed were so surface in nature that I thought about the fact that I often wonder if I am mired in mediocrity - Surrounded by people who are not willing to think differently.
2. I couldn't help but think about the huge racial divide where I live.
3. This sermon went away from the typical Methodist litany in that it wasn't over the selected scriptures for the week. In fact, no scripture was directly referenced. The sermon was actually 4 sermons written by a "Black preacher" (and that's a quote from the minister, so I will stick with the adjective) years ago that the minister had memorized. So here I am in a very White church hearing words originally spoken by a Black minister for what I assume was a Black audience. And the minister changed his voice to be more similar in delivery to a Black preacher. Huge irony there. And I couldn't help but think that this is indeed a stretch for many in the congregation.
4. After I got past the irony, I listened to the words and the cadence. They were beautiful. I understood why the minister loved the words, yet I remained somewhat bothered by the license that people take when re-crafting stories for an audience. How much liberty should be allowed before the meaning becomes lost?
5. The fact that the minister clarified that even though the words in the sermon only mentioned men, it was to all. My feminist side rankled a bit.
6. DD2 looked at me after the Lord's Prayer and said "I don't know this." A moment of guilt washed over me. I need to do something about that.
7. The last sermon he gave from what he memorized was about the crucifixion, and was written as if someone was there watching. During this sermon, I had my arm around DD2 and she was snuggled in. She played with my jewelry and I stroked her hand, and I was taken back to my childhood for a moment.
8. Within that same sermon I was able to imagine myself as Jesus' mother. Watching the scene, and knowing in my heart that I would take his place if it meant saving my child from such agony. The true manifestation of unconditional love. And then
9. Wondering again about how the congregation (and I include myself in this word) received the message - is there a sense of being willing to learn from others who are not like us, and genuinely being open to it, rather than feeling good about it after a false sense of bridge building? Goes back full circle to #1.

I wonder how others processed the sermon today. I really do.

I'm glad I went.

$40.61

Strange title for a blog post. Strange sentiment behind it, too.

I've done a lot of letting things go that weren't really mine recently. A cleaning of the cobwebs, if you will. Whether it was a person who needed to be exorcised from my life, or things that didn't bring me joy - clothing that doesn't fit or match me anymore, for example - letting things go so that I am open to the new has been a theme for me. There's a great passage in "Eat Pray Love" that's pretty similar to my thought processes of late:

If you clear out all that space in your mind that you’re using right now to obsess about this guy, you’ll have a vacuum there, an open spot — a doorway. And guess what the universe will do with that doorway? It will rush in — God will rush in — and fill you with more love than you ever dreamed.

Sometimes those cobwebs are real and tangible - and while the above quote is about obsessing over a guy, I do think there's more to it than that. For me, it's been about determining what memories I wish to have around from work, school, children, friendships, as well as romantic relationships. So my actions? Five dollars I returned to an old flame that was once his and I had been unable to spend. Things literally thrown away or honored...

Which leads to this:

While my marriage has been over for a very long time, I've held on to the last material vestige of that relationship in my jewelry box: my wedding ring. I'm not sure why, honestly. I guess because it is small and doesn't really take up that much physical space. Easy to forget that I still have it... except one never really forgets.

About 6 months ago, I put the ring in my purse. I think only because I finally had the recognition that it is time for it to go - it may not have been taking up physical space, but it was taking up emotional space. I figured I would sell it or pawn it. Sunday I had the opportunity to sell it, and when I found out how much they wanted to give me for it, I had pause. Matter of fact, I still have it, because I figured I better check out other venues before just accepting what I had been told. Truthfully, though, I paused because the amount I was offered for the circle of gold was $40.61.

And therein lies the rub. The ring I cherished and wore daily for a long time is only worth $40.61? That relationship's current figurative cost is now less than a pair of shoes or a blouse? I honestly thought it would be worth a little more than that - maybe $100, or so, but $40.61?

After I got that quote I walked around, shopped, and really thought. No, the relationship is worth much more than that, but it's not a monetary value. I will always have my kids and the memories we've made together. Not to mention the good times that were present in the marriage. The ring... really is inconsequential. Yet at one point it meant so much. Yet it is nothing more than a symbol - something that says to society "I made a commitment." So ironic in so many ways.

It is time for it to go. Its symbolism has changed. And so have I.

When I took the ring off, I also made a commitment: To love myself and my children enough to heal. I don't know that I will ever wear another band around my left ring finger again, but I do know that if I do it will be for the right reasons, with someone who is a fit for me, and from a place that is whole to start with. It will be with me knowing that my worth does not come from a band around my finger, but from within.

In short, the Universe has rushed in...

'Tis the Season

While I've been in my grading crunch for the past week or so, the fact that I've not done as much for Christmas as I'd like to have done already has also been providing a good bit of stress. I've tried to push it aside, but I admit it's creeped in on occasion. Grades were turned in yesterday, but I find myself in a different place than I thought I'd be at this point. I thought I'd be all gung ho about finishing shopping, etc, but I'm not. And last night I ordered New Year's cards, recognizing that I didn't need more stress trying to get anything out the door by next week.

I know why, too. On Monday, one of our neighbor's houses burned to the ground. We pulled up into the subdivision at the height of the fire. It was extraordinarily windy, and the fire was dangerously close to spreading to another house. A very sombering, sickening sight.

But then today I got an email about a dear sorority sister of mine who had a tumor removed off her pituitary gland a few weeks ago, and then had complications. She's still in the hospital, and prognosis is good, although she won't be able to sneeze or cough or do much else for 6 weeks.

And I'm left with the thought that my Christmas stressors are pretty inconsequential in the whole scheme of things.

'Tis the season ... not to be worried about details, but to love those around me, and be thankful for my blessings.

I count these among many:

• None of my neighbors were hurt, and their things can be replaced.
• Medical science is wonderful, and my sorority sister has wonderful friends and family by her side.

Those are excellent Christmas gifts.

Best Laid Schemes of Mice and Moms...

I didn’t run today until 4:15. Crazy. Such is life, though – some days it takes awhile to get moving due to things beyond one’s control.

I haven’t been running with my iPhone lately, preferring to have company with my own thoughts, and take the time to talk to God. Today, I took the phone since my kids needed to be able to reach me, and rather than play my usual running mix, I put it on random.

I never cease to be amazed at what happens when I do that. I skip a few songs, typically, but try not to do too many. More times than not, it seems that I hear exactly what I need to hear, and maybe there are some things I need to think about.

The mix was not as fast paced as I like to run to, but when I listened to the beat today, I realized it was right where I needed to be. First song was “Then,” and it just made me smile. A sense of both hope and being very happy with where I am right now just washed over me. It wasn’t long until two songs in a row came on that made me think of a friend of mine. One because he is the one singing it. The other, because he introduced me to this particular band’s music.

Ironically, or not, this friend emailed me yesterday to tell me what has been happening in his life over the past few months. We went out a few times over a year ago, and he breezed in and out of my life in many ways, but we somehow managed to remain friends. But the main crux of the email is that he became friends with a woman who was pregnant, but had been cast off by the baby’s father… somewhere along the way they fell in love, and he decided he wanted to be this baby’s father. The baby was born on Monday.

When I got that email, I just couldn’t help but smile. I’ve listened to him and paid attention to his crazy antics for the past few years, and had decided that he was happy being a single man who is married to his music. I’ve sensed that in some ways he has been lost – not really knowing what he wanted. For the first time, as I read his email yesterday, I sensed that suddenly he has found something to ground him. And that he’s happy. Everything I read felt just right.

So, I smiled when those songs came up, and I started praying for him, and the two new women in his life.

Then, the next song that came up was “How Great Is Our God” by Chris Tomlin. And my heart started to burst. It was gorgeous outside, and after thinking about my friend and his decision, it just seems divinely inspired. And on top of that, I felt the same way as I was running. How Great is Our God! I started thinking about the past few years and thinking about all the things that I’ve wanted, but didn’t get…. And the thought on many of those was “Thank GOD!”

How often is it we think we know what’s best, but find out that we’re not right?

Next was “I Can Only Imagine” by Mercy Me. And I was blown away. Ok, God… what are you trying to tell me today? My pace picked up and the song was central – wasn’t even thinking about the run itself… just opening myself up to whatever God seemed to be wanting to show me today.

I skipped a few songs, but it seemed that each song title made me think of someone – whether it was someone I dated along the way, or just a really good friend.

And then the music settled into “All That We Let In” by Indigo Girls – Hmmm…

You may not see it when it’s sticking to your skin

But we’re better off for all that we let in.

See those crosses on the side of the road

Tied with ribbons in the median

They make me grateful I can go this mile

Lay me down at night and wake me up again.

I smiled. I had been running. And had just run several miles. And was beyond grateful that I could do that. More than that, though, the words meant something different than they had previously.

Crosses on the side of the road… for some reason today that was about past relationships, or even potential relationships, that didn’t work. Or relationships that ran their course. People who came into my life for a season, but aren’t as central as they used to be for whatever reason.

How odd is that? Yet I’m grateful for each person who has been in my life for whatever length of time, or in whatever form, because they helped bring me here. To a place that is happy. Deep down in the gut happy.

Odd... would never have thought about this song that way before.

Finally, the run ended on “Now and Forever” by Carole King.

Now and forever, you are a part of me…

Sheez… I literally laughed out loud. This almost seems hokey, but it seemed that today’s run was about honoring the past. And recognizing that God has had a wonderful hand in that past. The past that has brought me to today, where God’s hand is definitely still present.