God is so faithful and kind...

Today, God reminded me how he cares for me even in small things... A few months ago, I got my mom's wedding ring fixed and I have been wearing it.  It's the most sentimental thing I have of my mom's and it's a representation (to me) of my family before divorce and death entered into it. So, yesterday at school, I took it off at our classroom sink to wash my hands and laid it down on the counter.  I didn't think about it even once until last night when I was almost asleep.  It was out of my control, so I just prayed that it would still be there when I got to school today.  When I got there, it was gone, and I got very upset... the maintenance guys looked in the sink drain (just in case a kid had knocked it into the sink), but it wasn't there.  I prayed that when I talked to my classes about it, God would move in the heart of whoever took it to return it to me.  When the kids all arrived, I tearfully explained why the ring was so important to me, and that whoever took it would not be in trouble, I just wanted it back.  I set up a spot on my desk for them to put it, and I wouldn't even have to know who did it, they could put it there when no one else was in the room.  When I was done talking to them about it, another teacher came in and told me that a girl told her that one of my students was showing all the other kids her "new ring" on the bus.  The neat thing is, even before I could speak to my student about it, she came to me and told me she found it and had taken it home, and it was still there.  I am so thankful that God moved her to tell me that she had it.  I drove her home today (my assistant principal suggested that), and met the lady she "stays with" and then my student brought the ring outside and gave it back.  I am thankful that God graciously gave this "memory" of my mom back to me, and I trust that God will also use this in the life of my student.  

5th Grade Quote of the Week

The year has started full force at my school.  The quote of the week is here:

After another teacher had written on the board in cursive... 

"Miss Constant, I can't read cursive.  I only speak English."  

This is my every day.  

:-)

The Infinite and the Finite

This past week I had the painful privilege of watching two close friends both become parents and lose their sweet son in the span of less than one minute.  Through both the birth and the death of their child, I have learned much.  

As I held Asher in the hospital room, along with many others who had gathered to support Dan and Casey, I couldn't stop thinking of how his short life, not even minutes long, is a picture of how fragile and short all our lives are, in the scheme of history, and in view of God's vastness.  We are but a vapor.  God is the only sure part of life.  I am as weak and needy as an infant.  I have forgotten that and have felt self-sufficient.  It's absurd, when I really sit and ponder that idea.  My pastor, Sean, said on Sunday that one day, all that we hold dear and think of as important will one day be eclipsed by what is most important - Christ.  I have become complacent, not really believing that I need God and His word as much as I need breath.  I was wrong.  I need it more than I need my next breath.  

God, forgive me for my self-centered ways.  I have believed a gross lie that I don't really need you.  I have sinned against you, and I thank you for how you are using the life and death of this little one to draw me nearer to you.  Thank you that your mercies are new every morning. Thank you that though I sin, you forgive.  Thank you that though I am unworthy of you, you love me.  Thank you for softening my heart once again that I might worship you in Spirit and in truth.  

This prayer from the Valley of Vision (a book of Puritan prayers and devotions) is a sweet reminder of the most important...

"The Infinite and the Finite"

Thou Great I AM,
Fill my mind with elevation and grandeur at 
the thought of a Being 
with whom one day is as a thousand years,
and a thousand years as one day,

A mighty God, who, amidst the lapse of worlds, 
and the revolutions of empires, 
feels no variableness,
but is glorious in immortality.

May I rejoice that while men die, the Lord lives;
that, while all creatures are broken reeds,
empty cisterns,
fading flowers,
withering grass,
he is the Rock of Ages, the Fountain
of living waters.

Turn my heart from vanity,
from dissatisfactions, 
from uncertainties of the present state,
to an eternal interest in Christ.

Let me remember that life is short and 
unforeseen,
and is only an opportunity for usefulness;

Give me a holy avarice to redeem the time,
to awake at every call to charity and piety,
so that I may feed the hungry,
clothe the naked,
instruct the ignorant,
reclaim the vicious,
forgive the offender,
diffuse the gospel,
show neighbourly love to all.

Let me live a life of self-distrust,
dependence on thyself,
mortification,
crucifixion,
prayer.

Asher Chappell

Please pray for my sweet sweet friends Dan and Casey.  Their little one went to be with God last night.  

Asher Daniel Chappell

I Made a Scrapbook...

It's been over a month since I finished my first year of teaching. I'm going back in less than a month! Crazy. There was about a 2 week period where I didn't think about school at all, but then a few days ago, I got a little creative wave. It doesn't happen often, rarely in fact. My friend Erin always says crafts give her hives, and generally, I'm in the same boat. However, once every 2 or 3 years (Is there a word for that? You know how fortnight is a word for 2 weeks? Let me know if there is a word for several years) I will feel like I want to take some picture and stick them in a book using rubber cement and stickers and cut out construction paper to make it pretty. What I'm trying to say is what the title of this blog has already told you. A few days ago, I made a scrapbook. Mine are not exactly pretty scrapbooks. I'm ok with imperfection, which is good, because it almost looks like a kid made it, but I'm fine with that. So anyway, I made an official "My First Year of Teaching" scrapbook. I won't do one every year (for reasons previously stated), but I wanted a memoir of as many memories and funny stories and pictures that I could think of to remember those 30 kids, the ones that made my year crazy and hectic but also very funny. They don't know it, but they played a giant part in my sanctification process.

During the 7 or so hours that the creative waves were flowing in my mind (when they come, I can't stop them, or they may never show up again), I decided that I needed a "Quotes and Stories" page. After looking back at my blog for funny anecdotes about the year, I found that I actually blogged shockingly little between the Chicken Pox phase and when school ended. Because of that, I decided that once I compiled all the stories into my scrapbook, I would finally blog the ridiculous things that happened this year. So, here is a random smattering of things kids said, and stories that have to have some background info in order to be appreciated.

Quotes and Stories from the year:

While I was reading Prince Caspian to the class, we noticed that a main character said, "Eh?" a lot. One of my students said, "What is he, Canadian?" Then all the kids just laughed like that was the best joke they'd ever heard. I said, "What kind of stuff do you guys know?" These were the same kids who didn't know if Oregon was a city, state, or country.

"Mr. Gambler's a riot." Wilmer

"Mr. Gambler said you have a present for me?" Wilmer (There was no present.)

"Can I go tell my mom if I can ride the bus?" All my students said this, and I hated it. As a teacher, it was just so hard to know where to begin with how to correct that statement. At least 4 kids per day would form their questions exactly like that, regardless of how often and in what ways I corrected them.

"My hair's looking a hot mess right now." Harold

This is one of my favorite moments: We were watching a really dumb movie (I was on the verge of turning it off, even though I had so many report cards to do and it was basically the last week of school). It was about a Granny who rode down a rapidly flowing river in a rocking chair while moving west along the Oregon Trail, and she barked orders to her grandson the entire time in a strong southern accent. I was sitting at my desk, and I started to notice that about 3 kids, after every sentence the Granny said, would tag on a "Boy!"(Really country-like. I wish I could record it and put it on the blog. Just use your imagination since I don't know how to do that). It was hilarious. Once I realized what they were doing I laughed so hard at my desk, I almost cried. I was just so proud of their well-developed and time appropriate senses of humor. The creators of Mystery Science Theater would have been proud. I may just send them the name of the movie and ask them to use it in their next episode.

One day, Ms. Moyer stepped in for a moment to relieve me so I could run out for a minute, and when I got back, she said, "Who's that kid?" Turns out my little Wilmer had definitely brought his neighbor to school with him. I sent them to the office to get it straightened out, and it turns out no one had noticed, and he just got on the bus. He was a 6th grader that I guess didn't want to go to his own school that day. It almost worked for him.

Toward the end of school everyone pretty much loses their minds. One of my students, Shane, didn't realize I was in the room as the class came back from lunch. I was sitting at my desk, and he didn't see me. Apparently, when the room is empty, that is the prime time to jump up on a table and start dancing and yelling, "Check me out! Hey guys, look at me!" That was such a great teacher moment. I coughed slightly, and he absolutely froze and turned ever so slowly to look at me. He got down and walked over, and I told him to come sit by me. I turned my head away from him just in time so that he didn't see me laughing. That moment solidified me (in my mind) as a real teacher.

"Ms. Christie, when you turn around to write on the board, Quortez dances around and says, 'Drop it like it's hot.'" Alcious

"I'm glad you called my mom yesterday, and I got grounded." Jake (This one statement has so much baggage with it, it's actually not all that funny.)

"Ms. Christie, have you ever had a valentine relationship?" Malak

"I speak two language. My first language is ghetto." Peyton

I had this conversation with Wilmer on my first day back after the Chicken Pox:

"Ms. Christie, I want to show you something."
"Is this an inside trick or an outside trick?"
"Oh, I can do it inside."
Wilmer proceeds to do a spin around and grab dance much akin to the famous Michael Jackson move. He then runs away before I can say anything and goes to his bus.
The next day -
"Um, Wilmer, you know when you did your little dance yesterday? I know you were probably just trying to be funny, but - "
"Oh, I wasn't trying to be funny. I was dancing."
"Oh... Well, either way, please don't dance that way in the classroom anymore."
"Ok, Ms. Christie."

And finally, one more conversation with Wilmer:
"Did you know my dad's name is Wilmer, too?"
"Oh really? That's great. Are you going to name your kid Wilmer, one day too?"
"How should I know? I can't tell the future."

I love kids. I also love not teaching during the summer. But after writing this blog, and creating my bi-yearly scrapbook (does that mean one every 2 years, or 2 per year?) and only remembering good memories, I just might be ready to go back in 3 weeks. Now let's just hope I don't have 30 kids in my classroom this year. Call your congressman.

Teaching and Being Taught

Over the past eight months, I have been privy to some really interesting experiences and observations as a teacher. I sometimes feel like an anthropologist, curiously watching their behaviors and comparing them with my own and those of others in my life.

After observing some patterns of behavior over the past school year, my mind automatically begins to analyze what I see. Here are some observations: When someone pushes them, they push back. "Your mom" comments are used (but usually saved for the most extreme situations). They blatantly seek for their own name to be known and themselves to be seen as great, or at least greater than someone else around them. In fact, almost all of the problems I see in the classroom are centered around them wanting to be seen as "the best."

Here is one scenario that displays this idea perfectly:
Driving to the beach on a field trip, we pass a kid skateboarding. One of my students yells out, "That's right, cause you can't skateboard anyway!" to the kid. I often correct these behaviors, but I was too distracted by thinking of how similar we all are at our very core. I said something like, "That is really interesting to me that you don't even know him, and yet you still want to be better than him. I think we all do that in different ways. That is just so interesting. You should try to think of why you feel that way."

As grown-ups, somewhere along the way, we learn to disguise these in socially acceptable ways. This tendency to want attention and be the best doesn't just go away when we mature, it just expresses itself differently. As we grow up, we do mature, (thankfully millions of adults aren't running around shoving people and saying Your Mom), but even so, our hearts are still as wicked as they once were when we were younger. We have simply learned how to hide what was once so obvious. We mask our selfishness behind false kindness and other ways of disguising slander and pride. If we are angry with someone, we will smile and be kind yet still keep bitter hatred in our hearts. I don't know many (if any) adults that would come right out and say, "I'm better than you." Kids actually would. We will often form it as a gossipy story or even, disgustingly enough, a prayer request that is in actuality motivated by our desire to be seen as better than another.

Knowing this is true because of Scripture and then seeing it played out in the lives of 30 random students from all over the world (Sudan, Mexico, Nigeria, El Salvador, Dominican Republic, United Arab Emirates, and the USA) stuck together in a classroom has been particularly fascinating. "The heart is deceitful above all things and desperately sick? Who can understand it?" This is not specific to race, gender, or age. Only Christ can change these hearts. This change cannot simply come with age. How humbling to see that I am so similar to my little 5th grade punks (a term of endearment), and that I can learn so much from my students. It does me no good to hide my own sinfulness, or try to disguise it in a "socially acceptable" form.
As Derek Webb puts it:

I repent...
for the way I believe that I'm living right
by trading sins for others that are easier to hide
I am wrong and of these things I repent

I pray that as my students grow up, instead of learning new ways to mask their sins, they will one day learn to confess their sins for what they are and run to Jesus for hope.

Mile High Dinners

This has got to be one of the dumbest things I've ever read about.