This is the video that was shown at Berean a few months ago about my journey with depression. (Read more about this service here.)
If the video is cutoff or doesn't work, here is the link.
November 23, 2010
November 12, 2010
Simply hilarious. Period.
Check out the first cake on this hilarious post on Cake Wrecks.
LOVE it. I think I'll remember this for when I have daughters.
LOVE it. I think I'll remember this for when I have daughters.
Question: Is an exam ever funny?
Answer: Yes. An exam is very funny to a 13 year old boy when it's preceded by the word "oral". That's right, this week my kiddos experienced their first oral exams in Spanish 1. Don't worry. I only accidentally called it that once before switching over to "speaking test", the safer, middle-school friendly expression.
My kids actually did really well, for the most part. It was kind of hilarious at times how completely clueless some of them were. Apparently the TWO days we spent preparing for it completely eluded some of these students, who literally forget things I say to them directly two seconds after I have said them. It honestly is one of the most baffling phenomenons. It would be very interesting/depressing to know how often middle school students are literally tuning out every word you are saying. I'm sure the numbers are close to 99.99%.
We went over the questions that were going to be on the test multiple times for two days, and still there were students that, when asked the question "What do you like to do?" looked completely baffled/clueless. "I don't know what that means," they whispered to me. As if I couldn't tell by the bewildered look in their eyes. Oh my.
In other news, one of my students reminded me this week that I am indeed working in a school with true needs.
Jeremy and I went outside to go to work Tuesday morning, only to find that both of our cars had been broken into, with electronics/stereos stolen.
I honestly wasn't super upset about it - mostly it's just the inconvenience of vacuuming out the cars and getting them into the shop that bugged me - but I decided to tell my kids about it just because it was an interesting tidbit. I said to them, "The thing I can't believe is that we didn't hear them break into either of the cars." The response I got from one of my kids was a very confident "Oh, breaking car windows doesn't have to be loud if you don't want it to be."
Good. So while many of my students have no idea what's going on in class, they are indeed learning lots of real-world helpful hints, like how to break into cars. Awesome. At least they have a possible career path if Spanish doesn't work out for them. So there's that.
My kids actually did really well, for the most part. It was kind of hilarious at times how completely clueless some of them were. Apparently the TWO days we spent preparing for it completely eluded some of these students, who literally forget things I say to them directly two seconds after I have said them. It honestly is one of the most baffling phenomenons. It would be very interesting/depressing to know how often middle school students are literally tuning out every word you are saying. I'm sure the numbers are close to 99.99%.
We went over the questions that were going to be on the test multiple times for two days, and still there were students that, when asked the question "What do you like to do?" looked completely baffled/clueless. "I don't know what that means," they whispered to me. As if I couldn't tell by the bewildered look in their eyes. Oh my.
In other news, one of my students reminded me this week that I am indeed working in a school with true needs.
Jeremy and I went outside to go to work Tuesday morning, only to find that both of our cars had been broken into, with electronics/stereos stolen.
I honestly wasn't super upset about it - mostly it's just the inconvenience of vacuuming out the cars and getting them into the shop that bugged me - but I decided to tell my kids about it just because it was an interesting tidbit. I said to them, "The thing I can't believe is that we didn't hear them break into either of the cars." The response I got from one of my kids was a very confident "Oh, breaking car windows doesn't have to be loud if you don't want it to be."
Good. So while many of my students have no idea what's going on in class, they are indeed learning lots of real-world helpful hints, like how to break into cars. Awesome. At least they have a possible career path if Spanish doesn't work out for them. So there's that.
November 3, 2010
You know it's time to visit the dermatologist when...
So I stayed after school yesterday with one of my students so she could take a test she had missed. Now, this student is a very sweet girl - quiet, struggles with Spanish, but very sweet. She finished her test (a rocking 21 out of 50, in case you were wondering) and handed it to me. She looked like she was going to head out the door, and then she turned back and said:
"I don't want to be rude, but you have two really big zits on your face."
"I know," I responded with a forced smile. "There's nothing I can do about it."
She didn't miss a beat. "Well, actually, one of them is really white. You could pop it."
Oh really? I could pop it? Just what I needed - zit popping advice from a THIRTEEN YEAR OLD.
"Well, it wasn't white this morning, when I could have popped it, and now if I tried it would bleed," I explained.
"Oooohhhh...yeah." She looked worried for a second, as if my world was crumbling and she alone was responsible to save me. Then she perked up. "Well, here! This will cheer you up!"
She pulled out a BOBBLE.HEAD.DOG. and pushed the head down. She grinned at me as I watched the little orange head bobble up and down. Up and down. I forced a laugh, hoping that would stop the madness and send her on her way. It didn't.
She smiled, knowingly, as if she now knew what would really make me laugh. She pretended to throw a ball up in the air, letting it "drop", and then she pulled a bouncy ball out of her pocket. MAGIC! - How did the ball get from the air to her pocket?!
I laughed nervously, wondering what in the world was going on in her head.
"Ha! Gotcha! I knew that would make you laugh!" She said triumphantly. And then she skipped out the door...leaving me behind to wonder .... what. just. happened?
"I don't want to be rude, but you have two really big zits on your face."
"I know," I responded with a forced smile. "There's nothing I can do about it."
She didn't miss a beat. "Well, actually, one of them is really white. You could pop it."
Oh really? I could pop it? Just what I needed - zit popping advice from a THIRTEEN YEAR OLD.
"Well, it wasn't white this morning, when I could have popped it, and now if I tried it would bleed," I explained.
"Oooohhhh...yeah." She looked worried for a second, as if my world was crumbling and she alone was responsible to save me. Then she perked up. "Well, here! This will cheer you up!"
She pulled out a BOBBLE.HEAD.DOG. and pushed the head down. She grinned at me as I watched the little orange head bobble up and down. Up and down. I forced a laugh, hoping that would stop the madness and send her on her way. It didn't.
She smiled, knowingly, as if she now knew what would really make me laugh. She pretended to throw a ball up in the air, letting it "drop", and then she pulled a bouncy ball out of her pocket. MAGIC! - How did the ball get from the air to her pocket?!
I laughed nervously, wondering what in the world was going on in her head.
"Ha! Gotcha! I knew that would make you laugh!" She said triumphantly. And then she skipped out the door...leaving me behind to wonder .... what. just. happened?
October 26, 2010
oh, babies!
Nope. I don't have baby fever. But I did LOVE this documentary - Babies. It's amazing, hilarious, mind-boggling and absolutely necessary for you to see. No narration. No words. Just scene after scene of the lives of four babies from four completely different cultures, living life as only a baby can do.
(Sorry that my layout cuts off part of the screen. If you want, here is the link as well.)
(Sorry that my layout cuts off part of the screen. If you want, here is the link as well.)
October 19, 2010
What every child needs
"When a child walks in the room, your child or anybody else’s child, do your eyes light up? That’s what they’re looking for."
- Toni Morrison
I have had a heavy heart over the past few weeks regarding school. A few weeks ago, I gave my kids an activity where they were to go around to other students in the classroom asking the question "Do you like science/math/english/etc... class?" or "Do you like the science/math/english/etc.. teacher?"
I made this worksheet quickly, part of a worksheet making marathon that Monday, so I wasn't thinking super deeply about the details or consequences of the worksheet. Therefore, I quickly listed all of the classes they were currently learning: English, Art, Math, Science, History, and, of course, Spanish.
Why did I do this? I have no idea. It wasn't smart. Especially because I was already feeling rather fragile and frazzled at the time.
I'm sure I don't need to tell you what happened, but I will anyways. I walked around the classroom during this activity, and to my deep, gut-wrenching dismay, nobody liked Spanish class. Even worse - nobody liked me.
I tried not to take this seriously. I joked about how they weren't going to hurt my feelings, they could answer honestly. But, honestly, it did hurt my feelings. And it thrust me into a few weeks of a pity party/time of deep reflection/depression.
WHY DO MY KIDS HATE ME?
My kids hate me.
Everybody Hates Me.
This is what was floating through my mind for days. The mantra as I fell asleep, the first thought when I woke up. I'm working my tush off for these kids, and they hate me. They hate my class. This is all meaningless.
So, to be honest, there were three things going on here.
The first thing is that I still hadn't gotten over my distinct and serious desire for people to like me. I have never been popular. I wasn't popular in middle school. I wasn't popular in high school. I wasn't popular in college. I don't know why I thought this would change, but for some reason I still had this deep desire to be liked. And when I realized I didn't have it, a little part of my pathetic self died inside. I would have told you that I didn't care if kids "liked" me, I just cared that they learned. I think I even said something like that in my interviews for LPS. But I guess when the rubber hit the road, my words had gotten ahead of me. My heart wasn't quite there yet.
The second thing going on - the more important, less pathetic, factor - is that I truly wanted these kids to learn. But in middle school, kids aren't extremely motivated to learn. At least not most of them. There are those few intrinsically motivated kids (like I was) that love to learn and achieve and get A's and work the very hardest they can possible work in order to achieve perfection. We teacher's don't need to worry about those kids. They practically teach themselves.
The kids we focus on are the ones that don't care. They don't care to learn Spanish, they don't care how hard you worked on the lesson, and they even don't really care what grade they get. Not really. These are the ones we focus on. To get these kids hooked, honestly, they have to buy into what you're selling. If I can't sell them Spanish, then I need to sell myself. I need for them to care enough about me that they're willing to work hard for me. And this was my problem. I was seeing a lot of attitude in class because the kids didn't care about me.
The third thing - the most important thing - was the whole reason I came to work at Park, was that I wanted to make a difference in the lives of these young humans. And I realized with this whole experience that I wasn't impacting kids. I was so stressed and frazzled and focused on getting the curriculum shoved down the kids' throats that I forgot the whole mission, the point of being there. These kids have big issues - poverty, abuse, abandonment, drug use (them and their parents) and much more. Learning is important, but so is being cared for.
"The family abode should be a safe and sacred sanctuary where
children can learn and be nourished." - Saundra Pelletier
The truth is, most of these kids don't have safe and sacred homes that are a sanctuary for them. And for five hours a week, I have the chance to offer them a sanctuary, a place to be nurtured and cared for.
Toni Morrison said that what every child needs - more than correction or guidance or a good kick in the pants - is to know that your eyes light up when they enter the room.
This is my new goal. I may not change the world. I may not make a huge impact in every life. And I may have to taste the bitterness of failure throughout the year in terms of academics. But my new goal for the rest of the year is for my students to know that I look forward to seeing them everyday - that they matter to me - and hopefully they will begin to see that when they enter the room each day - bringing in baggage and attitudes and smelly gym clothes - that my eyes truly do light up.
- Toni Morrison
I have had a heavy heart over the past few weeks regarding school. A few weeks ago, I gave my kids an activity where they were to go around to other students in the classroom asking the question "Do you like science/math/english/etc... class?" or "Do you like the science/math/english/etc.. teacher?"
I made this worksheet quickly, part of a worksheet making marathon that Monday, so I wasn't thinking super deeply about the details or consequences of the worksheet. Therefore, I quickly listed all of the classes they were currently learning: English, Art, Math, Science, History, and, of course, Spanish.
Why did I do this? I have no idea. It wasn't smart. Especially because I was already feeling rather fragile and frazzled at the time.
I'm sure I don't need to tell you what happened, but I will anyways. I walked around the classroom during this activity, and to my deep, gut-wrenching dismay, nobody liked Spanish class. Even worse - nobody liked me.
I tried not to take this seriously. I joked about how they weren't going to hurt my feelings, they could answer honestly. But, honestly, it did hurt my feelings. And it thrust me into a few weeks of a pity party/time of deep reflection/depression.
WHY DO MY KIDS HATE ME?
My kids hate me.
Everybody Hates Me.
This is what was floating through my mind for days. The mantra as I fell asleep, the first thought when I woke up. I'm working my tush off for these kids, and they hate me. They hate my class. This is all meaningless.
So, to be honest, there were three things going on here.
The first thing is that I still hadn't gotten over my distinct and serious desire for people to like me. I have never been popular. I wasn't popular in middle school. I wasn't popular in high school. I wasn't popular in college. I don't know why I thought this would change, but for some reason I still had this deep desire to be liked. And when I realized I didn't have it, a little part of my pathetic self died inside. I would have told you that I didn't care if kids "liked" me, I just cared that they learned. I think I even said something like that in my interviews for LPS. But I guess when the rubber hit the road, my words had gotten ahead of me. My heart wasn't quite there yet.
The second thing going on - the more important, less pathetic, factor - is that I truly wanted these kids to learn. But in middle school, kids aren't extremely motivated to learn. At least not most of them. There are those few intrinsically motivated kids (like I was) that love to learn and achieve and get A's and work the very hardest they can possible work in order to achieve perfection. We teacher's don't need to worry about those kids. They practically teach themselves.
The kids we focus on are the ones that don't care. They don't care to learn Spanish, they don't care how hard you worked on the lesson, and they even don't really care what grade they get. Not really. These are the ones we focus on. To get these kids hooked, honestly, they have to buy into what you're selling. If I can't sell them Spanish, then I need to sell myself. I need for them to care enough about me that they're willing to work hard for me. And this was my problem. I was seeing a lot of attitude in class because the kids didn't care about me.
The third thing - the most important thing - was the whole reason I came to work at Park, was that I wanted to make a difference in the lives of these young humans. And I realized with this whole experience that I wasn't impacting kids. I was so stressed and frazzled and focused on getting the curriculum shoved down the kids' throats that I forgot the whole mission, the point of being there. These kids have big issues - poverty, abuse, abandonment, drug use (them and their parents) and much more. Learning is important, but so is being cared for.
"The family abode should be a safe and sacred sanctuary where
children can learn and be nourished." - Saundra Pelletier
The truth is, most of these kids don't have safe and sacred homes that are a sanctuary for them. And for five hours a week, I have the chance to offer them a sanctuary, a place to be nurtured and cared for.
Toni Morrison said that what every child needs - more than correction or guidance or a good kick in the pants - is to know that your eyes light up when they enter the room.
This is my new goal. I may not change the world. I may not make a huge impact in every life. And I may have to taste the bitterness of failure throughout the year in terms of academics. But my new goal for the rest of the year is for my students to know that I look forward to seeing them everyday - that they matter to me - and hopefully they will begin to see that when they enter the room each day - bringing in baggage and attitudes and smelly gym clothes - that my eyes truly do light up.
October 12, 2010
thanks.filled
A year ago this time I was walking through the toughest, most agonizing, most depressed season of my life. Tonight I was thinking about my husband, about how amazing of a man he is, about how thankful I am for this beautiful gift God gave to me.
What I love most about Jeremy is that he loves people so well. He sees me for who Jesus made me to be, the woman I am becoming. He has always fought for me, always held out hope for me when I thought all hope was lost. He is such a man of faith. Within the first two months of dating me he walked with me through the third most difficult depression I have ever faced. Two weeks after proposing to me, he walked with me through the second most difficult depression. Three weeks before our wedding, he walked with me through my bipolar diagnosis. And two weeks after we got married, he walked with me through the deepest, darkest, longest depression I have (and hope to ever) face. He trusted God through every season, and always seemed so thankful to be a part of my life, even when I was depressed and had nothing to offer. He always has treated me like I am a precious gift, no matter what the circumstances, no matter how helpless and hopeless I may be.
A year ago, we went out into the country on a therapy-date and took these pictures - at that time, I found hope in capturing beauty outside of me. That was the hardest autumn of my life, but surprisingly, that fall holds some of my sweetest memories. I have never felt more fully loved, cared for, or cherished.
I am so proud of Jeremy, and so extremely blessed to call him mine. Being loved with a love like this changes a person forever. I will never be the same.
What I love most about Jeremy is that he loves people so well. He sees me for who Jesus made me to be, the woman I am becoming. He has always fought for me, always held out hope for me when I thought all hope was lost. He is such a man of faith. Within the first two months of dating me he walked with me through the third most difficult depression I have ever faced. Two weeks after proposing to me, he walked with me through the second most difficult depression. Three weeks before our wedding, he walked with me through my bipolar diagnosis. And two weeks after we got married, he walked with me through the deepest, darkest, longest depression I have (and hope to ever) face. He trusted God through every season, and always seemed so thankful to be a part of my life, even when I was depressed and had nothing to offer. He always has treated me like I am a precious gift, no matter what the circumstances, no matter how helpless and hopeless I may be.
A year ago, we went out into the country on a therapy-date and took these pictures - at that time, I found hope in capturing beauty outside of me. That was the hardest autumn of my life, but surprisingly, that fall holds some of my sweetest memories. I have never felt more fully loved, cared for, or cherished.
I am so proud of Jeremy, and so extremely blessed to call him mine. Being loved with a love like this changes a person forever. I will never be the same.
October 4, 2010
"How did you feel after you finished taking the test on Friday?"
--"Like I don't know Spanish."
--"That I don't know a lot."
--"I felt happy and smart."
--"Hungry."
--"Bored."
--"Glad I didn't have homework."
--"That I don't know a lot."
--"I felt happy and smart."
--"Hungry."
--"Bored."
--"Glad I didn't have homework."
September 13, 2010
ultimate resolve
This past weekend at church, I shared my story about depression with the church family. It was one of 12 stories highlighted during a video presentation at the end of the service. It was a short clip, basically in which I expressed the depth of sorrow and sadness I have experienced, and how lonely and despairing my bouts with depression have been. I wish you could see it. I feel like it really captured my heart in terms of what I have actually been through, what I would say to people about it if I had less than 2 minutes to share with them about my depression.
What I liked most about the way the story was told was that it shared the struggle, but not the resolution. There was no happy ending, no bow to tie at the end of the story, no quick fix. After our video played, we walked up to the stage with a representation of our struggle (mine was a black cloak - "I lived in darkness") and laid it at the foot of a cross.
It was so symbolic of what every day is like for me. There is no fix to my life. This isn't over. The story is still going on, and there could possibly be a lot of twists and turns in the road in the future... but the common theme throughout the rest of my life will be the same thing I did yesterday at the service. I will continue to lay my burden at the foot of the cross, and I will take up the burden that Jesus asks me to carry - His burden is light - and I will follow Him. I will hope in Him. I will choose to trust Him every day, even when the doubts and worries cloud my mind. I will continue to lay it at the cross, where he defeated sin and death and depression and doubt and fear. He has the victory, and so then do I. Still fighting the battle, but ultimately victorious.
There is no quick fix. But there is an end to the story. I picture if often. Me, standing face to face with Jesus, tears in my eyes (like there are now), Him looking at me with the knowledge of all I have known, and Him seeing me - fully seeing me - and finding me beautiful and complete in Him. The struggle will be over at that time. My journey will be complete, but also just beginning, for I will just have started to truly know Jesus. Our journey will continue, and I will live in eternal hope and peace at that time.
This is what I hope for when times get tough. I hope for the hug from Jesus that lets me know that it was all worth it, that I fought a good fight, that I ran the race with endurance. So now, I stumble and fall. But I press on with the hope and knowledge that Jesus sees me, knows me, and finds beauty in my journey right here, right now.
What I liked most about the way the story was told was that it shared the struggle, but not the resolution. There was no happy ending, no bow to tie at the end of the story, no quick fix. After our video played, we walked up to the stage with a representation of our struggle (mine was a black cloak - "I lived in darkness") and laid it at the foot of a cross.
It was so symbolic of what every day is like for me. There is no fix to my life. This isn't over. The story is still going on, and there could possibly be a lot of twists and turns in the road in the future... but the common theme throughout the rest of my life will be the same thing I did yesterday at the service. I will continue to lay my burden at the foot of the cross, and I will take up the burden that Jesus asks me to carry - His burden is light - and I will follow Him. I will hope in Him. I will choose to trust Him every day, even when the doubts and worries cloud my mind. I will continue to lay it at the cross, where he defeated sin and death and depression and doubt and fear. He has the victory, and so then do I. Still fighting the battle, but ultimately victorious.
There is no quick fix. But there is an end to the story. I picture if often. Me, standing face to face with Jesus, tears in my eyes (like there are now), Him looking at me with the knowledge of all I have known, and Him seeing me - fully seeing me - and finding me beautiful and complete in Him. The struggle will be over at that time. My journey will be complete, but also just beginning, for I will just have started to truly know Jesus. Our journey will continue, and I will live in eternal hope and peace at that time.
This is what I hope for when times get tough. I hope for the hug from Jesus that lets me know that it was all worth it, that I fought a good fight, that I ran the race with endurance. So now, I stumble and fall. But I press on with the hope and knowledge that Jesus sees me, knows me, and finds beauty in my journey right here, right now.
August 15, 2010
One year
One year ago today I committed my life to my best friend, the man I knew God had reserved just for me, my amazing husband, Jeremy.
This weekend, we were planning on celebrating our anniversary in Omaha. We were all packed up driving out of town, but my husband missed the turn to Omaha. I lovingly pointed out to him that we were going the wrong way and he grinned at me and said "Isn't this the way to Omaha?!" I looked at him, clueless, and he surprised me with "we're going to Kansas City!"
Now I know to some this may not be a big deal, but I have never been to Kansas city and have long talked about wanting to go shopping in the plaza. So my husband took me to Kansas City where we stayed two nights at a delightful hotel. And on saturday, he gave me (lots of) money to go on a little teacher-clothes shopping spree. It was SO much fun! What an amazing husband, right?
And then, on top of that, I opened up my gift this morning- a pair of diamond earrings! He's a keeper.
Anyways, it was a beautiful weekend of eating and loving and shopping and eating some more. It was a great way to celebrate what has been for us a very adventure-filled and delightful year.
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| We ate our wedding topper today- it was actually still pretty tasty. |
Happy anniversary, darling. Thanks for an amazing 365 days. Here's to thousands more!
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