Taking a moment to say, "Thank you."

Dear Jesus,

There are many times when I wish I did not need you. My flesh is rebellious. My spirit is willing, but my flesh is weak. This often makes me angry. I am idealistic. This is not the ideal world our Father created. This makes me sad and really angry. I am completely dependent upon you. I also have this belief, this ideal that I should be able to choose you all of the time. It's the logical choice. I know you are the living water that will satisfy my every need, but I don't always feel like you are present. I don't always trust you will be there. I'm afraid to be abandoned. So, my flesh pushes my Spirit from the top of the hill and seizes control. I numb the pain, however briefly.

Despite this rebellion and despite the ebb and flow of our relationship, you love me. You do not give up on me. You chose me. While I do not deserve your love and your grace, I am worthy. I belong to God. He knows how much of a mess I am, yet He continues to love me.

Check out this TED talk by Brene Brown, entitled the power of vulnerability: http://www.ted.com/talks/lang/en/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

This video alone was an answer to my prayer. It is not the complete answer, but it is a start. A solid reminder that God hears me, and He sees me.

The point of this letter is to describe how God has answered my prayers today despite my recent rebellious behavior.

Yesterday at work, after a 2.5 week break, was stressful. The students in the special education kindergarten class were not jiving with the routine. Some adjusted better than others, but needless to say by the end of the day I had been hit and bitten. Nothing serious physically but a difficult pill to swallow emotionally. I am slowly getting used to the physical aspect of working with kindergarten students with special needs. I cried after being hit the first time by a student in September. Since then, I barely blink an eye. Yet being bitten was a first, so it was a bit unnerving. Regardless of the craziness, I really did see Jesus' presence. The chaos of our first day back from break was manageable. We have definitely seen worse days.

This morning, I woke up with waning hope for the day. I needed to test a student; today was my last possible day, and the student's cooperation is fickle. I also did not know how day #2 would be with the class of kinders. Monday had drained my energy.

I discussed my concerns with Jesus and left it up to Him. I knew I was at His mercy. I always am. I am completely dependent upon Him. If I'm honest with myself, I hate that fact. Yet there's this mysterious measure of freedom and comfort knowing I don't have to be in control. I don't have to be perfect. I don't have to be anything. I can be me: imperfect, awkward, kind-hearted, and whimsical.

Today was such a blessing to see Him answer my prayers today. The student came with me to be tested, and then we played with toys that yielded more data than the standardized test I gave him. Despite moments of chaos in the kindergarten class, there were also sweet moments of peace as all the students were doing what was asked of them. I chatted with co-workers and one even went around the table during lunch rubbing everyone's backs.

I am so thankful.

Yet, the rebellion continues. I just don't know what to do with myself at home once work is over. I'm tired from the day, but a nap does not seem appropriate. Watching television to sit and relax leads to mindless munching. Then a cycle of guilt is perpetuated along with feelings of ugliness and a distorted sense of size. I feel the tension between my impossible ideals and trying to figure out how to love myself. I feel like I lose every time, or, if I feel like I'm "winning," I easily trip after a few days, usually when I acknowledge my success. It's like I sabotage myself. Damn my rebellious flesh.

So, I'm angry that I am sinner. While I try to wish it away, God has already provided a solution. Jesus, you are the solution. You lived perfectly and fulfilled God's law. You were utterly dependent upon our Father. You, too, were dependent. Why do I think I can be independent? The thought makes me giggle, yet sadly it's a thought I frequently believe. I thank you for sacrificing your perfect life, for taking my sin to the cross. You conquered death; you redeemed my sin. Everyone's sin. You are my Savior. God sees your perfect record as my own. I don't have to be perfect. I do not deserve your clean record, Jesus. It is a gift. Grace.

So despite the chaos within my own soul, I wanted to take a moment and say, "Thank you." Thank you for being faithful; thank you for listening and answering my prayers. Thank you for loving me and my students. Thank you for being bigger than my sin. Thank you for thinking I am beautiful.

I feel like I never know when I should share and when I should just keep things to myself. A relationship is between two people, after all. The last two weeks at church, the pastor has asked us to share how God has shown up in our lives the past week. How could I begin to summarize all that you do for me in my daily life as well as my overall spiritual journey? You meet me where I am in ways I do not know how to describe in a neat summary.

How I long for when you return, so there will be no more tears and no more suffering. Despite my angry desire to have that become a reality now, I trust your divine plan. There is so much I do not know.

But I do know, Jesus, that you are good. All the time.

Prayers in poetry

In rereading a poem I wrote on October 24, I realized my prayer was answered, in part on the very day I wrote the poem.

Here is an excerpt: "Yearning for an apology, closure, peace/A band-aid to hide the hideous wound/Cover it up while it heals/Will it heal?"

On October 24, I received an apology. On October 30, I received closure and peace. I am still healing, but my hope is in God, and He is the ultimate healer.

Elusive happiness

I read some advice a few women hypothetically offered to newborns. They used different words but the same sentiment. Find what makes you happy. Hopefully, you'll be able to make a living by doing it. I love my job, but I'm not always happy at work or happy doing my job. There are to-do items I do not like to complete.

I am pro-happiness, but it is an emotion. It is not a deer to be hunted and then mounted on the wall, so it is always present. It's a meandering butterfly, flittering in and out of attainability but always visible. We have many visions of our butterflies. Your standard monarch or an exotic zebra-striped type. Once we net our monarch, we seek the zebra. The zebra-striped butterfly will linger longer.

There is something beyond happiness.

John 4: 1-26. Jesus asks a Samaritan woman for a drink. Jesus is a Jew. The Jews and the Samaritans are like the Montagues and the Capulets. Furthermore, men typically did not talk to women in public. Also of importance is the fact that the woman was at the well at noon. Women typically went to the well together early in the morning before the heat blazed. This woman was not accepted by the others, yet Jesus talked to her. He asked her for a drink. She's confused by his request. Jesus responds by saying that He can give her living water. Verse 14 is a powerful promise from Jesus: "but whoever drinks from the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life."

Yes, there is something beyond happiness. Not the mythical fountain of life, but a relationship with Jesus Christ. A savior. The road will be filled with happiness and sadness, but He walks that road with us. He rejoices, mourns, and consoles us. He fights for us. He appears through friends and family, personally and through strangers.

If I were to give newborns advice, assuming I wrote it down for them to read at a later age, I would encourage them to seek Jesus, because happiness is no match for sadness. Jesus conquered death. I trust Him.

God responds

While in New York these past 10 days, I had quite the adventure. God used my time to speak to me and to guide me. He surrounded me with support, with my roots. He gave me a strength I did not know I possessed. But that's not a story for my blog. Not today.

I wanted to share an answer to my prayer on October 18. Early in the day, I confessed my loneliness and asked God to do something to let me know He was with me. Throughout the day, I completely forgot about my prayer. In the picture, my room is located in the building behind the green canoe. After I had went to bed, I left my room to go to the bathroom. While walking back, I looked up at the sky. There was a patch of sky without clouds, revealing a starry sky. It was beautiful. Stars are few in San Diego. I looked up at the starry sky and remembered my prayer from the morning. I was thankful for a response.

The little moments

Every day in my special day kindergarten class is always an adventure. Fortunately, I enjoy an adventure. Lesson plans are typically thrown out the window, while new ones write themselves.

Today, my favorite student (who has autism) in that class put in his hand on my shoulder while I sat next to him. If I moved to assist another student, he followed me. That is not typical behavior for students with autism. During one of his groups, I told him to complete his work. He put his hand over my mouth and told me to be quiet. I wanted to howl with laughter. How can I punish a student with autism for being interactive and communicating clearly? He eventually did his work; I didn't stay quiet for long, if at all.

Another boy, who also has autism, had some difficult moments today. He screamed and cried for a snack, even though he had already eaten. I sat with him and repeated that he needed to sit first, and then he'd get his juice. Finally, I walked to where he needed to be with the juice box. He followed. He completed his work with the lunchbox in his hand. At least he did his work. I was not going to fight that battle. As the class walked to the bus, he waved good-bye to me as I walked to my classroom. He was the first student to say good-bye. I wanted to kick my feet up and do a jig, because he initiated interaction for something beyond his basic wants or needs.

Despite spending most of my day walking around feeling incompetent, God sees me. He reminds me that He's involved in the lives of my students. I often stop and remind myself that all of the students in that classroom bear God's image. God likes to get crazy, sometimes...

Limitless

For the second time in six months, the pastor at my church (Harbor Mid-City) preached on the parable of the good Samaritan (Luke 10: 25-37). Both times, he quoted Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Dr. King had visited the Jericho road referred to in the parable. My pastor summarized two of Dr. King's comments regarding the Jericho road. First, instead of asking, "What will happen to me if I stop and help someone," it is critical to ask, "What will happen to the person in need of help if I do not stop to help?" Secondly, Dr. King advocated transforming the Jericho road.

My heart soars thinking about transforming the Jericho road. That's what I want to do. I want to transform the Jericho road. I want to help soothe the pain of others and ease the suffering of others.

It used to break my heart to realize I cannot transform the Jericho road alone. Even with a small army, I will likely not be able to transform the Jericho road. I used to feel so hopeless and paralyzed.

But with Jesus, we can transform the Jericho road. It's already part of God's plan, for "He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away" (Revelation 21: 4). The burden of transforming the Jericho road is not on my shoulders. Jesus has already carried this burden to the cross. I can pray for the transformation of the Jericho road. I can pray for God to work through me and other people to inch by inch transform the road. I can pray to God to show me how I can take small steps toward transforming the Jericho road.

I still don't fully know what to do, but I know the Jericho road will one day be transformed into a peaceful, safe place.

Evidence Based Practice AND Prayer

So, my fellow speech language pathologists will definitely know the phrase "evidence based practice." I'm sure, however, that it's no surprise for the rest of you to use research or some other factual based information to make a decision or implement a therapy technique, learning model, or which car to buy.

I am so giddy and excited about my day that I wanted to jump up and down while I walked through the hallways at work today. I, apparently, need to make up a happy dance that is work appropriate.

Once or twice a week, I go to an elementary school and provide speech and language services to 12 kindergarten students in a special education classroom, called a special day class (SDC). Some of the students are identified as speech and language impaired, others have autism plus two other labels.

I adore my students. They are challenging and fun all at the same time.

Today one of the students was acting out for attention. The teacher had one of the two aides take him outside of the classroom. The aide needed to run her group so she tagged me in to watch the student. She warned me that he had been throwing sand. Within minutes, he threw sand at me. I decided to implement a trick from my valued friend and colleague. I enthusiastically said, "Thank you! Thank you so much! I love how the sand feels on my arms." He threw sand once again, and I thanked him once again. After that, he either placed the sand in my hand, which I gently placed back on the ground, or he drizzled sand on my leg or my shoe. Then I just ignored him, and he typically wiped it off wherever he had placed it.

But that's not why I'm excited. At one point, he decided he was going to leave the playground area. I did not want to chase him, and I knew if I walked toward him, he'd think it was a game. I told him that it's not safe to leave and the rule is staying on the playground. I did not look at him. Occasionally, I'd say something about staying within the playground. What worked, however, is my prayer. I asked Jesus to keep him in the playground, or at least guide me if I had to follow him. Sure enough, the student returned to the playground and close the gate behind him. I made sure to talk to him and to praise him for making a good choice. Praise God!!!

As exciting as that was, I had a highly fulfilling therapy moment. One of the boys with autism in the class is secretly my favorite. He'll usually comply and even hold your hand if he sees your hand extended. It's very sweet to have a little boy with autism hold your hand willingly. He's not the only one in the class like that, but he's the one I met first. Anyway, this student often repeats rote phrases that are not related to the topic. I believe he is using them to communicate, but I haven't quite figured out what. I'm always happy if he asks me to tie his shoes or repeats something I say. Today, he was playing with play-doh. After he made a ball out of it, he began rolling it back and forth between his hands. So, I asked him to roll the ball to me. With a few prompts, he did. I rolled it back. I told him to roll the ball to me, and he did. I had another student join us, so they rolled the ball to each other. I'm still prompting the student with autism to roll the ball. After that, he boy with autism started playing with a toy car. So, again, I asked him to roll the car to me. He did. By the time we stopped, the student would roll the car to me after I said, "my turn." So there you have it, developing turn-taking skills, which we will use as the foundation for conversation.

AND it gets even better. The second student that I brought in to play with us gave me a hug after we were done. So the student with autism gave me a hug! Best day ever.

I couldn't be more proud of my student or more thankful to God for guiding me. Such a sweet and loving God, who will provide for my students despite my areas of weakness.

Yet another reason why I love my job!