The Big Move

The time has come for me to move–  to a new website.

I will not be posting here any more, which is crazy to think about, but I will be posting at NicoleDeVries.com and I'd love for you to join me over there.

Hope to hear from you soon!

Shipwrecked and Cared For

Do you remember the story of Paul, traveling to Rome as a prisoner? They are well on their way when a storm blew in and wreaked havoc. The sailors had no control over the direction they were heading since the winds and waves were so strong. They tried to tie the boat together, and to lighten it by throwing cargo overboard. Days went by. And then, they "finally gave up all hope of being saved."

After a long day on my feet, with my plantar fasciitis acting up, I, too, give up all hope of being saved.

God Goes Green

Some of my Kinders could really care less about saving paper or going green. They toss used papers and scraps right into the trash without a second thought.

Other students, however, are crazy about recycling. No matter how small the shreds of paper are, they eagerly deposit them into our recycling box.

Side Effects

When I came-to, I was on the floor in the atrium at church surrounded by people. As my hearing slowly faded in, I heard a kid ask, "Did you die?" No, kid; I fainted.

Worship

The sun. The quiet whispers of the sun, the sky that lightens in anticipation, before it is quite ready to rise. Harsh and searing, penetrating sun glasses and not high enough in the sky, yet, for the visor. Distant, but intentional; yellow and cool and preparing for spring. Glorious and valiant as it sets, trying to get the last word in over the night by scattering rays into the clouds.

Air, oddly warm, begging for deep breaths, filling one's lungs
to the point of satisfaction. Snow, melted by the sun, that smells something like rain.

Pennies on a Tombstone

We visited his grave when we were all together for the holidays. We gathered together, huddled together.

It was the cold that drew out tears and made eyes red. It was. Wasn't it? The blowing, biting wind? The chill of remembered loss?

A nearby tombstone boasted an array of pennies, spread out so you could see them all. So many visitors.

Maybe next time we could pass out tokens before we visit. Not just pennies, though. Not just to say we'd visited, but that we remembered.

Maybe next time we leave Hershey Kisses and sticks of Big Red gum.

"Very Good"

It's hard enough for me to understand that the very creator of the universe, the most perfect and holy being, God Himself, would forgive us of our sins, that he would make a plan to allow us to continue in blessed relationship with Him, but that's not even the extent of God's mercy. 

Not only does God forgive, He redeems. 

He takes what is broken, messed up, and torn, and He makes it into something good. 

"As for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good," (Genesis 50:20a) ESV

"And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28) ESV

After all, God created all the earth and everything in it and surrounding it out of nothing. It would be no small task for Him, King of Kings and Lord of lords, to take something evil, to take a sinful past, to take that which is wrong, and make it, somehow and divinely, into something good. Not only good, but very good.


Connected Quote? How about this one?

Next Time

So maybe this time you messed up. Maybe this time you missed that opportunity.

What are you going to do next time? Make a plan, make it today.

Once, I heard someone say that living a holy life is just obeying God the next time he prompts. And then the next time, of course, and then the next. But rather than looking at the daunting 'for ever and ever', just focus on being prepared 'next time'.

The plan is the important part. The plan, covered in prayer. Because without a plan, you'll fall into the same things. At least I do. After all, it's easier to do something you've already done than to try something new.

"Fail to plan," they say, "and you plan to fail."

So use the motivation from this missed opportunity, this slip (or jump) into sin, this attitude-- use it for fuel for next time.

Only, don't wait for next time to make that plan.

Connected Quote?

When Business Gets in the Way

A couple weeks ago I had a meeting with one of the parents of a student, but they had to cancel last-minute due to a family emergency. I didn't get any details, just 'family emergency'.

And the next day, when they picked up their child, I asked when they thought we'd be able to reschedule.

About five seconds later I realized that wasn't the right question to ask. I should have asked how they were doing. I should have asked how I could pray for them. Instead, I was so focused on business, on getting things done that I thought were important.

***

Fast forward to this Wednesday when I left school before lunch feeling terrible and sick and altogether bleh. And Thursday morning, feeling better again, calling students to my desk to recite the week's memory verse.

"Do you know this week's memory verse?" I asked one boy.

"Yes," he said quietly without hesitation, "But I'm just glad you're back."

***

Sometimes, business can wait. Usually, actually.

People themselves are more important than whatever needs doing.

Autumn. Fall. Any other name, might smell as sweet.

The genuine colors of fall.

Music wafting through the air,  like comfortable and familiar memories.

Books. Books that walk the tightrope between tragic and lovely. Books that open a chasm, a craving for words.

Smooth, rich, sweet honey. Dripping gently, soaking softly, sticking determinedly.

Cider thick with flavor and warmth. Comforting cider on the early-morning drive to work.

Sitting, whispering, talking, giggling with sisters home for a visit.

Autumn, the poetic and sing-song name. Fall, the casual and trite name. Connotation is incredible. Roses might smell the same even if they had an ugly, disagreeable name-- but would we approach them for the smelling?

Cleaning nooks and crannies, diligently. On a mission to avoid grading, avoid bedtime, avoid the busy next day.

But always the brisk air, the sky crowded out by clouds, the leaves cut off from water and falling from the trees. Expendable leaves. Always the sweaters and scarves, the thick leg-warmers and wool socks. Always the ticking of time, the predictable switch of seasons, the patterns. The patterns that, year by year, look a little new and a little familiar.

We know what comes next in this pattern: figid air, snow, Christmas.
But it's not here yet. Don't let this present pattern piece pass before squeezing out every single thing it has to offer.

Don't ignore this autumn.

Simplicity

The simple life has its roots in obedience.

Our lives-- at least, my life -- gets chaotic when we pile up clutter. Too many things to do, think about, and fix. Too many irons in the fire, not enough focus. And a lack of obedience to God.

I've posted about obeying immediately, completely, and without complaint before, and I want to take it a step farther because I'm learning that obedience simplifies life.

I tend to try to think things through before I act on what God seems to be telling me to do. I try to think it through, to figure it out, even talk God out of asking me to do something so out of my comfort zone. Some of the time I do obey, and some of the time I miss the opportunity.

This summer I heard a sermon on Luke 17:1-19. This section is divided into four, and I usually read it as such. But this pastor connected the dots, contrasting the disciples with some lepers. See, Jesus tells the disciples to rebuke the brother that sins, forgive the brother that repents, and continue forgiving even if they keep sinning. Their response? "Increase our faith!" or, "I don't know if I can do that!". But when Jesus tells the 10 lepers to go show themselves to the priests, they go. And they still had leprosy when they went. But Jesus told them to do something, so they obeyed, even though it didn't look like it'd work. Yet as they went-- as they obeyed-- they were healed.

Our response to a command from God ought not be to theorize, to justify, to consider how to apply, to marvel at the impossibility of it, but to obey. Anything short of, "Yes, Lord," followed by obedience is disobedience.

And to determine for yourself that you have no alternative to obeying God's commands makes your life incredibly simpler because you know exactly what you're going to do. You don't have to come to each command and determine how exactly and to what extent you're going to obey, you just obey.

Now obeying God sometimes doesn't look like it'll work, or like it's worth it. I'm sure it's going to be difficult in the coming days and years, and many things won't make sense, but I'm determining to obey-- with God's help.

And you know what else? Not only does obedience simplify, it frees. I've heard it before, and experienced it, but I'm looking forward to living it.

I still don't have a teacher's immune system, and other kindergarten observations

The five-year-old and I both have cold-induced headaches. She gets to go home: I get to keep teaching.

There's a lot more to putting a classroom together than bulletin boards, desks arrangements, lesson plans, and welcome notes.

I taught a math-science connection cutting open a peach, an apple, green grapes, and a red pepper. We talked about the seeds being inside, or outside (after I removed them, of course). The grapes happened to be seedless. Oops.

But the next day, a student was cleaning up his lunch and showed me what was in his fist. I let him share with the class. He explained that he was excited when he saw that his mom packed him red grapes and he carefully ate one open and searched for seeds. Which he found. The whole class was enthralled. (Win!)

Teacher's Aides are miracle-workers. They are blessings from God. My aide is the only reason I get half the things done each day. She's also the result of prayer (thanks, everyone who prayed for that last student!)

I hate taking :)s away from students, even though their behavior warrants it. But it makes the day that they keep their smiley ten times better!

I dance a little inside every time the kinders remember how to do a procedure, or return to the classroom quietly, or correctly execute a routine. Yay! They listen!

As I teach kindergartners to print, I'm getting extra practice, too. I write notes on their printing practice extra slow and neat, because it just wouldn't be right to use my 'normal' chicken scratch...

I really need to finish this Sub- Binder, in case this cold escalates...

When Time Counts

I've had a few days home alone recently that left substantial time for thinking.

And here's what I think:

We need to be intentional. I need to purposefully spend time with my friends and family, not living alongside them but hardly interacting. I ought to more frequently initiate conversations, get to know them better, and do things together we both/all enjoy. No more of this being near each other but not being present with each other. No more 'ships passing through the night', or wasted time. We need to make the time count.

We need to be intentional. Not just when I'm around people, but when I've got time alone. If I don't stay focused and have purpose, suddenly all that time has slipped away on Netflix, books, sleeping, or even Solitaire. Moderation. Sure, spend some time on these luxuries, but don't get caught up in them. I ought to simplify, and do things on purpose. We need to make the time count.

Everything happens in a moment, even if it was built up to through many moments.

What are you doing with your moments?

On Dangerous Prayers

We caution each other about our prayers with annoying regularity.

"Ooh," we warn, "that's a dangerous thing to pray."

"Careful what you pray for," we urge. 


I think it's half a joke. Or at least, I hope it is. We call them dangerous prayers because of our confidence that God will answer.



God might actually send you opportunities to be his ambassador.

God might actually teach you patience, or joy.

Or, *gasp* give you vision for your life, your family, or your church.

There are countless examples of prayers whose answers would take us out of our comfort zone and change us.

Careful, we prompt.

That's dangerous, we say.


No.
Stop.

Instead : "That's a dangerous thing not to pray.", "Careful, make sure you're praying for that."

Rather than cautioning, I believe we ought to start encouraging each other in this.

Encourage these prayers with annoying regularity.

Shadow Watchers

The radio was telling me this week about those in New York who are upset about shadows. (read more here)

Developers are building very tall, and thin, skyscrapers, which are casting shadows on the public parks.

And while the shadows don't last very long, since the skyscrapers are so slender, some are concerned about what will happen to the plants and animals over time.

Good question.

God calls us to live without certain behaviors and attitudes in our lives. But maybe you think they aren't that big of a deal. They seem so small- so slim. Maybe you're rolling your eyes at the fuss everyone is making over this little shadow over your spiritual life.

Have you thought about the long-term effects as much as these irate citizens and park-goers? It may not seem like that big of a problem right now, but down the road of time they might cause quite a dilemma.

Maybe we should be a bit more concerned about the shadows in our lives.

Does This Job Make Me Look Fat?

Really, I'm convinced it does.

When I tell people about my job, and the different things I've done and grades I've subbed in and the responsibilities I've had, they usually respond with,

"That's good experience to have under you belt."

And I've grown a lot as a person and an educator since taking this job as a teacher's aide, and the experiences have been exceptional. I've just been storing them on paper and in my memory, not under my belt.

Every day.
Every day, he waits.
When the other second graders pack up their backpacks and put on their coats and wait impatiently to be picked up at the end of the day, he does, too.

Except most days, he doesn't get picked up right when school is out. Since his parents both work, he goes to the After Care program-- three or four of my students do. Maybe once a week this boy gets picked up right at the end of the day.

But every day, he puts his coat on and waits expectantly.

"Miss DeVries-- have you seen my dad yet?" He exclaims, a grin plastered on his face.
"No, but you'll be the first one I tell when I see him coming," I confide.

"Are you sure you haven't seen him yet?" He presses, after a few minutes.
"I'm sure."
"Okay," he says, some days he turns away saddened, but most days he bounces exuberantly back to his seat.

Every day he waits expectantly, prepared.

If it were me, I'd probably not put the coat on. We have heat in the building, after all, and it's got to get hot and stuffy sitting there wearing a winter coat for fifteen minutes or more.

And that's the problem. I tend to have that approach to my spiritual life, too.

Don't get tired of waiting on the Lord, brothers and sisters. Wait upon the Lord, even when it seems like he's not going to show up.

Because, I've got to tell you, the days I shake my head at him sadly and wonder when he'll give up-- those are the days his dad picks him up right at the end of the day, and that little boy's face lights up as he rushes out, calling 'Daddy! You came! I knew you'd come!".

Have confidence in our God, wait upon the Lord, and let yourself be delighted when he shows up.

Neighbors and Vines

Romans 12 says to let brotherly love be genuine.
Well, that's easy enough with my friends, isn't it? When I love the people that are easy to love and who love me back...
But God didn't leave it at 'let love be genuine'.
Nope.
God said to love our neighbors. Not the person living next door, but the person-- whoever they are-- who needs forgiveness, or who needs mercy or help.

Well, that narrows it down, doesn't it?

We're supposed to love everyone, then. And we're supposed to love them genuinely.
And that means sacrificial love.
Sacrificial love for people who, in our flesh, we might not really like.
But they are God's children, whether they acknowledge it or not, and God loves them.
And we're supposed to be the extension of that love.


Which is a good thing. A really, really good thing.
Because I can't sacrificially, genuinely love my friends all the time, much less people I find hard to love.
"Good news?" you say. Yes, good news.

Because if I'm the extension, I'm not the source.

He is the vine, I am the branches.
God is the source of that love, and in order for me to sacrificially, genuinely love My Neighbor I need to be tapped into him. Sacrificial, genuine love isn't easy. It takes energy and effort. And an act of God, literally.

God showed us how much he loved us. He did not decide to play it safe and enjoy heaven but to come to earth and live life with us. And let us kill him. He died for us, and in so doing saved us from ourselves and our inadequacies.

God died for you.

God loves you.

And now God wants you to share that love with Your Neighbor.
To share it with anyone who needs forgiveness, mercy or help.

And the only way you can do that is by staying connected to the source of all forgiveness, mercy, help and love-- God himself.

Let love be genuine.

Naming Crayons

The kindergarteners sometimes have trouble finding the crayon color they're asked to find. Now that they know how to read, it's no longer good enough to identify a crayon by its color, they want to read the color. 

And whoever named those colors wasn't doing kindergarteners a favor. I spent several minutes telling students if their crayon 'counted' for blue, or yellow, or brown. 

It got me thinking-- if, someday, a Christian decided to make their own brand of crayons, and name them accordingly, what would they be called? To amuse myself, I came up with some...

Burning Bush? That'd be orange. 

Manger Hay? Yellow. 

Jordan River? It could be a blue crayon-- or a brown one. 

Light On A Hill? Another shade of yellow, of course. 

Gideon's Fleece? White

Alter Stones? Gray.

Jesus' Blood? Red. 

Blood of the Martyrs (this you probably wouldn't put in the package for Kindergarteners...) Red.

Green Pastures-- green. 

Still Waters? Dark blue. 

The Fine Linen of the Woman Who Fears the LORD? Purple. 

A Time To Love? I'm going with Pink...

Wiseman's/Magi's Gold? Gold- the kind that looks metallic. 

When Practice Doesn't Make Perfect.

They say that when you practice, you'll become perfect. 

I haven't found this to be true. 

Once, I was practicing a song on the piano. I can't read notes and I don't know which keys are which, but I wanted to learn a particular song so I tried. I agonized over the notes, counting up and down the lines and spaces, running through the alphabet. Then, I pecked the keys trying to get the piano to sound like the song. 

I thought I was doing marvelously! 

Then my sister, who does know piano, and how to read notes, and which keys are which, came over to me. 

"Want help?" she asked. 

"What's that supposed to me?" I scoffed.

"It doesn't sound right." 

"It does too. Leave me alone, I'm practicing."

She wouldn't go. "Play it again," she said. She watched my hands and glanced up at my sheet music as I played. "You're supposed to play a flat for all those notes."

"A what?"

"The black key. That's what that symbol at the beginning of the song means."
I tried it her way, and it worked. But I'd practiced it so many times the wrong way it took a very long time to unlearn what I'd practiced. 

So, you've got to practice right to get better. 

There was a golfer named Ben Hogan. I don't know much about him, except that he was quoted in a book I'm reading as saying, "Every day you don't practice you're one day further from being good." He doesn't say 'you're one day further from being perfect," but "one day further from being GOOD."

And we've got to start somewhere! 
So start by practicing right. Not to become perfect, but to become better. To become good.