Recently, I realized how much certain songs define my past. A certain song will come on the radio, and I'm suddenly transported to another time, another place, another year, another lifetime. I realize it is like this for many of us; in fact, numerous songs have been written to remind us of other songs we've heard (Kenny Chesney's "I Go Back" comes readily to mind). Looking back is a good thing. It reminds us of who we were, what we were going through at the time, and, hopefully, shows us how far we've come since then. I thought I'd share just a few of the songs closest to my heart and the memories they bring back:
1) "Absolutely (The Story of A Girl)" by Nine Days
This song takes me back to the summer of Driver's Ed in all its glory. At first, we drove around town, practiced the basics, and laughed as our instructor attempted to stomp through the passenger's side brake pedals. We'd roll down the windows, crank up the radio, and we were ready to go. A crush of mine also took Driver's Ed with me that summer. I'll never forget his name, mostly because it was so funny to say: Joey VanWingerden. He thought I didn't notice every time he glanced at me in the rearview mirror when this song came on, but I did. Every time this song comes on the radio, I'm suddenly 16, in that yellow Driver's Ed car with the windows rolled down, and an endless world of opportunity stretched out in front of me.
2) "Run To Me" by the BeeGees
This song takes me back to the night I found out my grandparents were getting divorced. They'd been married 42 years. We never saw it coming. I'll never forget being in the basement and hearing my mother come running downstairs, put on this old 45, sit in a rocking chair, close her eyes, and listen. Looking back, I will always wonder what my Dad was doing then. After all, they were his parents. Part of me wishes I'd gone upstairs and talked to him, but I was captivated by the song and my mother's rocking. Afterwards, she told me what had happened, and I'll never forget the feeling like my world was crashing down. Every time I hear this song, I'm suddenly a scared 13 year old again, wondering how something like this could ever have happened.
3) "When the Sun Goes Down" by Kenny Chesney
This song is the summer of 2006 for me. It was so popular that summer, and Jon and I were on our honeymoon at Virginia Beach. Everywhere we went, this song was being played: restaurants, outdoor pavilions, stores...everywhere! It brings back all those wonderful honeymoon feelings, along with the smell of the salty air, the taste of terrific seafood, and memories of long walks on the beach. The whole of married life is opened up to me, and all I want to do is just be with my babe.
4) "Bad Day" by Daniel Powder
Lastly, this song takes me back to my senior year of college. It was uncanny, but every time my best friend Jenn & I were having a terrible, awful, no good, bad day, this song would play on the radio. We were doing our student teaching together at the local high school, and there were plenty of bad days to be had too. Our days were filled with bratty students, professor observations, lesson planning, assemblies, fire drills, lockdowns for drug busts, and nosy teachers. It's a wonder we graduated at all. Throughout our friendship, Jenn and I have gone through a lot, and for the rest of my life, this song will embody our friendship - no matter what happens, I know she is there for all my bad days.
Those are the top four for me. What are yours? What are your defining songs? Whatever they are, let me share a secret: no matter how great the past was, don't live in it. The past is over and done with. Maybe it was the best, maybe it could have been better, but you're in the present, and you have to think about the future. Living in the past only makes you less of a force in the present. How many marriages, friendships, and jobs have been lost due to living in the past? The past wasn't better; you just see it through those rose-colored glasses. Remember the past, yes, but don't dwell in it. Don't let your songs stunt you and your growth for God's kingdom. Don't let Satan use them as a trap to keep you from being the most effective soldier you can be. Cherish the past, but look towards the future, and live in the present.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Mary Poppins I Am Not
If you have ever been without work, you know what a hair-raising experience it can be to job search. The first morning, you wake up, grab a cup of coffee, and either snuggle up in front of the computer to start searching or jump in the car and drive all over town filling out applications. If you live in a small town like me, you can drive to all the most promising places in one day and hear the phrase, "We're not hiring right now, but you're welcome to fill out an application" at least ten times. The second day, you stake out the computer and Google jobs in your area, creating on-line profiles, portfolios, resumes, and writing samples. The third day, you fill out all of those "second choice" jobs you'd seen the day before. The fourth day, you fill out anything you can find.
I became quite adept at filling in information about myself the summer of 2010. I filled out applications for anything from a gas station manager to a librarian for UGA. Every day, there would be a new notice in my e-mail: "Thank you for your interest. Unfortunately, this position has already been filled..." For months, this was the case. Hope was stretched thin. Then, I hit upon a website called Care.com. The site is divided into areas for elderly care, pet care, and child care. I started looking at different job listings for the child care section and ran across several advertisements for nanny positions. Immediately, visions of Mary Poppins flooded my mind. Coming into a family's life, snapping my fingers, having all the housework done in an instant, being a great influence on young lives, maybe teaching the parents a thing or two along the way, singing "A Spoonful of Sugar" the whole way and leaving when the wind changed...sounded good to me!
I received my first nanny interview within two days of applying. The job was 45 minutes away watching two children, a two-year-old boy and a ten-year-old girl, from 7 a.m. till 5 p.m. Monday through Friday and some possible overnight weekends. 45 minutes seemed a little extensive to drive, but all other avenues were closing (even Wal-Mart wasn't hiring). I was practically hired on the spot. I started at the beginning of August, almost to the day of receiving my last paycheck from the school.
For anyone who knows me even remotely well, I am not a morning person. I get up early when I have to, but I don't become fully myself until at least 9 a.m. after being plied with coffee, through an IV if necessary. So, getting up every morning at 5:30 to leave the house by 6:15 and having no breaks throughout a ten hour day got old very quickly. Oh, yeah, by the way, the house was a three story converted barn with all wood floors, and when they hired me, they got rid of the maid. A typical day consisted of cleaning up the breakfast dishes, doing several loads of laundry, dusting, sweeping, mopping, changing the bedsheets, making the kids breakfast and lunch, making dinner for the whole family, and playing games with the kids.
I came home exhausted and was then faced with my own housework. I was able to keep a good attitude for the first week. And then I was hit with an exhaustion unlike any other I have ever known. I was so tired I felt sick all day long. I started crying myself to sleep at night out of pure exhaustion. Suddenly, my work load increased: school started. I had to wake the two year old up at 7:30 in order to take the ten year old to school, which made the baby a bear for the rest of the day. Then, I found out the family owned a lake house that also needed cleaning on a weekly basis. At 2:45 p.m., it was back to pick up the daughter from school. The family also owned a small general store, and I suddenly started drying apple slices to be turned into chips for them to sell and wrapping homemade soap bars (there was talk of me making soap as well).
This was not my Mary Poppins-esque vision. Not even she could snap her fingers fast enough to do all of that. The family was so sweet, but they didn't seem to realize that I was not wearing a cape. I was reading Max Lucado's A Gentle Thunder at the time, and I kept telling myself I simply wasn't trusting in God enough. Missionaries in foreign countries did much more with much less every day; couldn't I complete these tasks? Not in good health apparently...a headache formed behind my temples and stayed for the entire month of August. I saw an endless career of nanny-ing stretching out in front of me, and it was no longer full of singing and jumping through chalk pictures. It was more like the orphanage in Oliver Twist.
Finally, on August 26th, I was called in for an interview for a job I'd applied to in April when I'd felt the first rumblings of trouble at the school. It was a customer service job, and I knew I was qualified. The hour and a half interview was more than I'd expected, but I prayed the whole way through and felt like I had done the best I could. On August 27th, I was hired and asked to start the following Monday, August 30th, (my birthday oddly enough). The family took the news better than I expected, and I was off to the new job.
Why do I share all that? For one, you cannot tell me with a straight face that God's hand wasn't in that from the very first. There are way too many "if's" in that scenario for it to be anything but God. The paychecks covered us and our interim bills perfectly, and hopefully, I was able to be a witness to the family even in that short time period. His timing was, as always, perfect. For two, it was a good lesson for me to see that, as usual, I am not in control of anything. It's amazing to me how often I try to take control, almost as if God's got the reigns, and I lean in with zilch experience with an over-confident, "You can take a break, Lord. I've got this one." Mm-hmm. Suuuuuuure...There I was thinking I'd be a pillar of strength to this family, balancing anything they threw my way, and I kept falling asleep at their kitchen table. Trust me: God's got it, and you don't want to be in control of it. You'll drive yourself bonkers. Let Him do the work, and go along for the ride.
Thirdly, if you find yourself in a similar situation to mine, job-wise or otherwise, take heart. Something will open up. Waiting is, unfortunately, a big part of life. I often think of my life as a theme park: waiting and waiting for hours in a line for a ride that I know will only last a few seconds. Why do it to myself? Because the ride is always worth the wait. The adrenaline, the wonder, the excitement; it's always an experience you would never take back. True, sometimes you get sick on the ride, but hey, sometimes life makes you sick too, doesn't it? Whatever waiting period you're in right now, remember: you'll get on the ride soon enough. It may last a few seconds, minutes, days, weeks, or years, but sooner or later, the ride will end, and you'll be back to waiting. And that's OK. Because when the sun sets on your time in the theme park, you'll look back as you leave and know that it was all worth it, every line and every ride. Don't waste or wish away a second of your precious time.
Oh, yeah, and don't try to be Mary Poppins. Just you is perfect enough for God. Why would you want to be anything else?
I became quite adept at filling in information about myself the summer of 2010. I filled out applications for anything from a gas station manager to a librarian for UGA. Every day, there would be a new notice in my e-mail: "Thank you for your interest. Unfortunately, this position has already been filled..." For months, this was the case. Hope was stretched thin. Then, I hit upon a website called Care.com. The site is divided into areas for elderly care, pet care, and child care. I started looking at different job listings for the child care section and ran across several advertisements for nanny positions. Immediately, visions of Mary Poppins flooded my mind. Coming into a family's life, snapping my fingers, having all the housework done in an instant, being a great influence on young lives, maybe teaching the parents a thing or two along the way, singing "A Spoonful of Sugar" the whole way and leaving when the wind changed...sounded good to me!
I received my first nanny interview within two days of applying. The job was 45 minutes away watching two children, a two-year-old boy and a ten-year-old girl, from 7 a.m. till 5 p.m. Monday through Friday and some possible overnight weekends. 45 minutes seemed a little extensive to drive, but all other avenues were closing (even Wal-Mart wasn't hiring). I was practically hired on the spot. I started at the beginning of August, almost to the day of receiving my last paycheck from the school.
For anyone who knows me even remotely well, I am not a morning person. I get up early when I have to, but I don't become fully myself until at least 9 a.m. after being plied with coffee, through an IV if necessary. So, getting up every morning at 5:30 to leave the house by 6:15 and having no breaks throughout a ten hour day got old very quickly. Oh, yeah, by the way, the house was a three story converted barn with all wood floors, and when they hired me, they got rid of the maid. A typical day consisted of cleaning up the breakfast dishes, doing several loads of laundry, dusting, sweeping, mopping, changing the bedsheets, making the kids breakfast and lunch, making dinner for the whole family, and playing games with the kids.
I came home exhausted and was then faced with my own housework. I was able to keep a good attitude for the first week. And then I was hit with an exhaustion unlike any other I have ever known. I was so tired I felt sick all day long. I started crying myself to sleep at night out of pure exhaustion. Suddenly, my work load increased: school started. I had to wake the two year old up at 7:30 in order to take the ten year old to school, which made the baby a bear for the rest of the day. Then, I found out the family owned a lake house that also needed cleaning on a weekly basis. At 2:45 p.m., it was back to pick up the daughter from school. The family also owned a small general store, and I suddenly started drying apple slices to be turned into chips for them to sell and wrapping homemade soap bars (there was talk of me making soap as well).
This was not my Mary Poppins-esque vision. Not even she could snap her fingers fast enough to do all of that. The family was so sweet, but they didn't seem to realize that I was not wearing a cape. I was reading Max Lucado's A Gentle Thunder at the time, and I kept telling myself I simply wasn't trusting in God enough. Missionaries in foreign countries did much more with much less every day; couldn't I complete these tasks? Not in good health apparently...a headache formed behind my temples and stayed for the entire month of August. I saw an endless career of nanny-ing stretching out in front of me, and it was no longer full of singing and jumping through chalk pictures. It was more like the orphanage in Oliver Twist.
Finally, on August 26th, I was called in for an interview for a job I'd applied to in April when I'd felt the first rumblings of trouble at the school. It was a customer service job, and I knew I was qualified. The hour and a half interview was more than I'd expected, but I prayed the whole way through and felt like I had done the best I could. On August 27th, I was hired and asked to start the following Monday, August 30th, (my birthday oddly enough). The family took the news better than I expected, and I was off to the new job.
Why do I share all that? For one, you cannot tell me with a straight face that God's hand wasn't in that from the very first. There are way too many "if's" in that scenario for it to be anything but God. The paychecks covered us and our interim bills perfectly, and hopefully, I was able to be a witness to the family even in that short time period. His timing was, as always, perfect. For two, it was a good lesson for me to see that, as usual, I am not in control of anything. It's amazing to me how often I try to take control, almost as if God's got the reigns, and I lean in with zilch experience with an over-confident, "You can take a break, Lord. I've got this one." Mm-hmm. Suuuuuuure...There I was thinking I'd be a pillar of strength to this family, balancing anything they threw my way, and I kept falling asleep at their kitchen table. Trust me: God's got it, and you don't want to be in control of it. You'll drive yourself bonkers. Let Him do the work, and go along for the ride.
Thirdly, if you find yourself in a similar situation to mine, job-wise or otherwise, take heart. Something will open up. Waiting is, unfortunately, a big part of life. I often think of my life as a theme park: waiting and waiting for hours in a line for a ride that I know will only last a few seconds. Why do it to myself? Because the ride is always worth the wait. The adrenaline, the wonder, the excitement; it's always an experience you would never take back. True, sometimes you get sick on the ride, but hey, sometimes life makes you sick too, doesn't it? Whatever waiting period you're in right now, remember: you'll get on the ride soon enough. It may last a few seconds, minutes, days, weeks, or years, but sooner or later, the ride will end, and you'll be back to waiting. And that's OK. Because when the sun sets on your time in the theme park, you'll look back as you leave and know that it was all worth it, every line and every ride. Don't waste or wish away a second of your precious time.
Oh, yeah, and don't try to be Mary Poppins. Just you is perfect enough for God. Why would you want to be anything else?
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Spreading My Wings...
"Your services as a teacher are no longer needed." Those were the words I read on the letter I held in my hand last summer. I became one of the thousands of Americans who lost their job in 2010 in the blink of an eye. Of course, I knew it was coming; I had been teaching at a private school that had been hanging on by various threads all three years I had taught there. Something had to give. That something turned out to be half of the teaching staff losing their jobs, myself included.
I was devastated. I had worked so hard to get that degree, taking out loans upon loans to achieve it, knowing that, when graduation finally arrived, the job I landed would pay for those loans in no time at all. But who could foresee the economy tanking? Just like that, my dream of being "that teacher," the one whom students one day look back on and say, "If it hadn't been for her...," (you know, a real "Freedom Writers" kind of deal), was gone. I packed up my classroom, took down all the motivational posters, and boxed up my "Don't make me get my Flying Monkeys" sign and "Ashes of Obnoxious Teenagers" urn. Just like that, I was out in the cold, cruel world with a teaching degree and no job opportunities within a foreseeable driving distance.
A lot happened in the summer of 2010, and I will share it with you in digestible portions. But here is what I discovered as I scoured job listings, put in applications at every place of business I could think of, and made one on-line profile after another: Being "let go" gave me freedom. I at first looked at the situation and thought, "I'm doomed. We're done for. Debtor's prison, here we come." But it also gave me a new way of looking at the world.
This blog is a result of my being let go. For years, I have written in journals, keeping records of my life and thoughts, (and I'll admit it: secretly thinking that one day when I'm dead, someone should find them and turn them into a movie; it's really good reading), and I've also tried my hand at writing fiction. I don't think I've ever finished one single solitary story, but I've started countless ones. I had always thought, "One day. One day I'll write that story that will sell a million copies. One day I'll be a published author." But if losing my job taught me anything, it was that nothing is certain in this life. Everyone told me I wouldn't be one of the ones they let go, but I was. And I had a breakthrough thought: Why wait? Waiting is procrastinating greatness. If I kept waiting for the "perfect time" to write something, chances were, I'd suddenly be 75 and never have started. So here we are: I'm not an official published author, and maybe I never will be, but I'd like to think I'm on my way to becoming one. No longer will I put off my writing. For better or worse, I'm in it for the long haul.
I can sum up my ambition in the words of my favorite singer: "What's wrong with wanting more? If you can fly - then soar! With all there is - why settle for just a piece of sky?" ~Barbra Streisand, Yentl, 1983.
I was devastated. I had worked so hard to get that degree, taking out loans upon loans to achieve it, knowing that, when graduation finally arrived, the job I landed would pay for those loans in no time at all. But who could foresee the economy tanking? Just like that, my dream of being "that teacher," the one whom students one day look back on and say, "If it hadn't been for her...," (you know, a real "Freedom Writers" kind of deal), was gone. I packed up my classroom, took down all the motivational posters, and boxed up my "Don't make me get my Flying Monkeys" sign and "Ashes of Obnoxious Teenagers" urn. Just like that, I was out in the cold, cruel world with a teaching degree and no job opportunities within a foreseeable driving distance.
A lot happened in the summer of 2010, and I will share it with you in digestible portions. But here is what I discovered as I scoured job listings, put in applications at every place of business I could think of, and made one on-line profile after another: Being "let go" gave me freedom. I at first looked at the situation and thought, "I'm doomed. We're done for. Debtor's prison, here we come." But it also gave me a new way of looking at the world.
This blog is a result of my being let go. For years, I have written in journals, keeping records of my life and thoughts, (and I'll admit it: secretly thinking that one day when I'm dead, someone should find them and turn them into a movie; it's really good reading), and I've also tried my hand at writing fiction. I don't think I've ever finished one single solitary story, but I've started countless ones. I had always thought, "One day. One day I'll write that story that will sell a million copies. One day I'll be a published author." But if losing my job taught me anything, it was that nothing is certain in this life. Everyone told me I wouldn't be one of the ones they let go, but I was. And I had a breakthrough thought: Why wait? Waiting is procrastinating greatness. If I kept waiting for the "perfect time" to write something, chances were, I'd suddenly be 75 and never have started. So here we are: I'm not an official published author, and maybe I never will be, but I'd like to think I'm on my way to becoming one. No longer will I put off my writing. For better or worse, I'm in it for the long haul.
I can sum up my ambition in the words of my favorite singer: "What's wrong with wanting more? If you can fly - then soar! With all there is - why settle for just a piece of sky?" ~Barbra Streisand, Yentl, 1983.
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