The Teacher You Need, re-visit

~ Kristin ~ 3 Comments

I’ve been teaching since I lined up my childhood friends in chairs or desks in any garage or basement we were allowed to play in and ‘taught’ them the lesson of the day.

Some might say I was ‘bossy’. I prefer the term ‘influential’.  I had to start practicing early to hone the skills I would need to manage a classroom of teenagers and convince them that yes, they would write a three-page paper on the use of dashes in Emily Dickinson’s poetry.

Now that is not to say that I became “the boss” in the classroom.  I can be. I will be if I need to be.

I prefer to be the Ellen DeGeneres of the classroom. I like to make students laugh. I like to learn about them. I like to showcase their strengths and celebrate them. That’s my sweet-spot. Kids need a little “Ellen” in their lives. They need someone to be happy to see them, to dance with them, and to applaud them.

However, students also sometimes need a boss. They need to know that a limit exists. They need to understand that they are expected to comply with the teacher’s expectations. They need to know that if they choose not to comply, there will be a consequence. Not a punishment, necessarily, but a consequence.

Other times, kids need a mom in the classroom. My “mom” self shows up when a student reveals that her mother is in the hospital, that his dog died this morning, or that she hasn’t eaten since yesterday. The mom of the classroom has snacks in her desk, a shoulder to cry on, and the ability to grant an extension on any assignment. The mom oozes grace.

I have been known, on rare occasions, to turn a little Jack Nicholson in my classroom. I cock my eyebrow, quietly walk past a mildly misbehaving adolescent, and crush a hornet on the window sill with my bare hand. “Jack” shows up out of the blue. He makes off-the-wall comments to get a reaction.  He keeps class interesting.

I guess I developed a cast of personas to keep my students engaged, to keep them on task, and to help them feel loved. I wasn’t trying to do this; it just happened.

Sometimes when I was teaching in a high school classroom, “the boss” would show up to re-gain control on the heels of an “Ellen” appearance gone-rogue, and my students would say, “Mrs. Rathje, what’s wrong? Are you mad?” I would reply, “No, I’m not mad. I’m just willing to be whatever teacher you need me to be today.”

Recently I was reading how God used Hosea to announce that He he had had enough. He was going to punish His people, have no compassion on them, and refuse to acknowledge them (Hosea 1).  Yikes! Why so harsh? How could God do that to his own people?

Because He was willing to be whatever His people needed Him to be.

Sometimes we go rogue. We forget that God is God, and we are not.

When we need a line, a barrier, a boundary — He will provide it.

When we need affirmation, celebration, applause — He will give it.

When we need mercy — He has it in abundance.

Why does He do all these things?  Because He loves us, knows way more than us, and understands the consequences of us going our own way.  He is Creator, Redeemer, Friend, Lord. He is the Teacher who is exactly what we need Him to be.

Teacher I will follow you wherever you go.

Matthew 8:18

Confessions of a Job Searcher

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

Since we are talking threads, I should probably address my obsession with working.  Many times in this blog I have discussed my thoughts on working and searching for jobs.  I love to work.  When I’m not working, I like to search for jobs. Ok, I’ll admit it — even when I am working I like to search for jobs.

This is nothing new.  Before the internet, even when I was not in the market for a job, I would comb the classifieds every Sunday,  just to see what was out there.  Once the Internet showed up, I took up job hunting as a hobby.  It’s weird; I know.

Yes, I hunted for jobs even when I was fully and happily employed prior to my diagnosis.  Yes, I continued my search even when I was sick and working full-time.  I mean, you never know what’s out there, right?  I’ve mentioned on this page how hard it was for me the first few months of this next chapter not to apply for jobs while I was ‘being still’.

You may be under the impression, if you are a regular reader, that since I have found my niche through Wyzant tutoring and my adjunct teaching that I have ceased searching and that I am done applying to jobs. Ha-ha. No.  I’m still at it.  In fact, Wyzant was made for me — each day new ‘jobs’ are posted, and I can choose to apply to these jobs or not.  For instance, this morning I have ‘applied’ to work with three or four different students already.  One 10th grader in a nearby town needs an English tutor; I replied to the post, sharing my interest, availability, and qualifications so that the parent knows that I’m out here, willing to help.  A young professional whose first language is not English has posted that she would like online speaking practice; ok, I’ll give that a shot. Why not?

Additionally, I routinely check Indeed, an online job search site, for positions in my area.  And, yes, ok, I’ll admit it — I still check Craigslist job postings, too.  Why?  I have plenty of work!  Well, you never know what’s out there, unless you look!

I guess it’s a hobby? Or maybe it’s an indicator.  Maybe it’s some sign that I’m not yet settled.  I don’t know.  Analyze it if you want.  Meanwhile, I’ll be over here filling out an application to be a freelance editor or completing the requirements to renew my Michigan Teacher Certification. I mean, you never know, maybe I’ll head back to the classroom.

Nevermind that it’s  10:45 am and I’m still on the couch in my pajamas.  A girl can dream, can’t she?

Psalm 90:17

Let the favor of the Lord be upon us,

and establish the work of our hands.

Write anyway.

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

The first piece of advice I give to writing students is that if they want to improve their writing, they have to commit to writing every day.  I often say, “Set a timer for ten minutes and keep your hands or fingers moving that entire time.  It doesn’t matter what you are writing about; just write.”

Often I get the response, “But I don’t know what to write about!”

And I say, “Write anyway.”

So, today I am taking my own advice.  I found the time in my afternoon to do some writing and I thought to myself, “I don’t know what to write about!” And then I heard my answer, “Write anyway.”

Since I’ve been finding threads in this blog for the last couple of posts, I might as well acknowledge that ‘writing about writing’ is one of my threads.  I don’t know if every blogger is so drawn to writing as I am.  I mean, they have to like writing a little bit if they take the time to blog, right?  But do they feel the tug to get to the keys?  Do they feel refreshed and energized after they have found the way to order their thoughts in words on a screen?  Do they turn to the laptop to make sense of their chaos?

Because I do.  In fact, if I haven’t written in a while, I get a little cranky…all the thoughts get jammed up in my head, almost begging for a way to get out.

Now, you may be thinking to yourself, “Now, Kristin, I have met you and you certainly say a lot of words every time I am with you; doesn’t that do the same thing?”

Actually, no.  You’re right;  I do use a lot of words.  I like to fill up silent spaces when I am around other people.  In fact, I can’t seem to get myself to shut up.  But often those words aren’t deeply reflective or fully indicative of what is happening in my soul.  They may share insights I have gained through my prayer/Bible/writing, but they aren’t the way I typically get to the insights.

I have found that my best thinking and processing are done when I am quiet.  For instance, at this moment, I have been alone in my house for almost two hours.  I haven’t spoken a word to anyone other than dear old Chester, our golden retriever.  I ate some lunch, read the book of Hosea, wrote in my prayer journal, then turned to my blog.  I’m not entirely sure why, but this process of reading, praying, then writing, creates an openness through which my thoughts can order themselves and find a new expression.

Several years ago, before I entered this next chapter, I would go running every day after school.  I felt I needed that time to ‘download my day’.  While I ran, my stream of consciousness would sort out the moments and file them into folders for later use.  It was a useful transition from my day at school to my day at home.  However, I think all those years I was missing a step.  I rarely sat down in silence to open the folders, reflect on their contents, and find meaning from the moments.

I am taking the time now.

See what happens when you “write anyway”?

Psalm 34:8

Oh, Taste and see that the Lord is good!

Blessed is the one who takes refuge in Him!

 

 

 

Bent on turning, re-visit

~ Kristin ~ 3 Comments
Click to listen to this post.

On Monday, when I wrote about Finding Space to Turn, I mentioned that I am bent on turning. If that phrase left you scratching your head, here is the rest of the story, that I wrote way back in January of 2016. As we enter this season of Lent, may we be willing to stop and re-turn.

Why am I amazed every single time that God reveals Himself. I mean, He does it so often, you would think I would begin to expect it. Yet, I am always surprised.

Consider this: Way back in November, my Wednesday morning battalion was discussing what we would study next. Several books were suggested, so we considered each of them before we decided on Jennifer Rothschild’s Hosea: Unfailing Love Changes Everything. Well, that was November, and then Christmas happened.

God took me on a journey through December that landed me in January, longing to turn back to my good practices of Bible study, prayer, and blogging (see ‘Turn at any Time’). This idea of turning starting churning around in my head over a year ago when a couple of friends and I were meeting once a week for what I’ll call ‘prayer talking’. Each of us was embracing the idea of repenting, or turning. We were deciding together that we had been walking the wrong way and that we were willing to turn around and walk back toward God.

Among many of the topics that recur in this blog, like healing and soldiering, I often explore the idea of repenting — of turning. Perhaps you, like me, find yourself learning the same lessons over and over again. Learning and forgetting. Straying and re-turning.

So, when I joined the battalion this morning to start our study, the one that we chose last November, I could hardly keep myself from gasping when our leader paraphrased Hosea 11:7: My people are bent on turning away from Me. I almost audibly shouted, “Yes, Lord, I am! I am bent on turning, and you see it! You’re speaking to that tendency in me!”

God used Hosea to speak to this trend that is common to humans — our habit of turning away. He knows us! He knew that we would take his love for granted, that we would wander to look at any shiny little thing that caught our eyes. He knew I would continually try to soldier my way through, believing myself to be capable of handling life on my own, thankyouverymuch. He knew that when I did this I would end up feeling guilty, helpless, unloveable, and beyond hope.

So, He gave us Hosea.

Short story, even shorter: Hosea was a man of God who sought out Gomer, a prostitute, and continued to love her despite her perpetual unfaithfulness. This, my friends, is a picture of God’s covenant relationship with us. God, who is God, seeks out the perpetually unfaithful and continues to love us! He keeps both sides of the covenant!

Hosea is a love story, friends. It’s a tale of the unconditional love of God for His people. A love that pursues the wanderer. A love that steps into squalor to find us. It’s a story of God’s love that is bent on turning away from anger in order to save us. A love that welcomes us back and embraces us every single time we re-turn.

“Return, O Israel, to the Lord your God, for you have stumbled…return to the Lord…I will love [you] freely, for my anger has turned from [you]…[You] shall return and dwell beneath my shadow; [you] shall flourish like grain.”

Hosea 14, selected verses

As I re-visit this post today, in February of 2020, I’ve just come from Ash Wednesday service where a bunch of the perpetually unfaithful stood together singing, “there’s no shadow you won’t light up, mountain you won’t climb up, coming after me. There’s no wall you won’t kick down, lie you won’t tear down, coming after me.”

He continually pursues us; there is nothing He won’t do for us us. He keeps coming after us.

Why wouldn’t we want to stop turning away and re-turn?

It takes a team

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

One thread of this blog since its inception is my journey through healing.  In the summer of 2012, I noticed that my elbows hurt.  The first health professional I saw thought I had tennis elbow — even though I didn’t play tennis or do any other repetitive motion activity other than swiping my iPad. That fall I began to feel tired — reeeeeeeally tired.  As a full-time mom, teacher, school administrator, and basically busy person, I had no time to be tired.  I went to a second health professional who did some blood tests and told me I was fine.

Since I knew I wasn’t fine, I kept pushing and investigating until I landed in a rheumatology office where I was given the diagnosis — psoriatic arthritis.  By then I wasn’t just tired — I was achy and struggling with psoriasis, too. Over the next 18 months I was treated with a series of medications in an attempt to find the one that would allow me to feel the best with the least side effects. I also experimented with acupuncture, massage, and nutritional interventions. All the while, I was still working full time and preparing for a major move, my youngest daughter’s graduation from high school and my oldest daughter’s graduation from college.

Then we moved.  And, if you have been following this blog, you know I committed to some time of rest and recovery.

While resting and recovering, I saw new medical professionals who said I did NOT, in fact, have psoriatic arthritis, but probably fibromyalgia.  These doctors discontinued some of the meds I was on and suggested that I insert more exercise into my life including cardio (I was already walking and doing Pilates). I resisted the fibro diagnosis, got a gym membership, and started building my team.

Now, 3.5 years after my initial symptoms and 1.5 years after moving to Michigan, I am still on the path to healing, but I am not alone.  I have assembled quite a little network of professionals who are believing with me that my health can improve and, indeed, that my entire sense of well-being might be restored.  Let me introduce my team.

Rev. John Rathje, aka my dear husband, is chief executive in charge of encouragement.  From the beginning, he has believed my invisible symptoms are real, has accompanied me to appointments whenever I have asked, has heated flax seed pillows, purchased ice packs, rubbed sore muscles, and supported my couch sitting. He also makes sure to remind me not to push too hard or do too much.

Rev. William Gatz is chief executive in charge of intercession. Since the moment he heard of my diagnosis he has prayed daily for my complete recovery.  If you know Pastor Gatz, you know this is serious business. He is a leader in prayer and intercession, especially prayer related to healing.  He also recommended that I read How Can I ask God for Physical Healing, which challenged some of my thoughts and affirmed others.

Dr. Mary Greiner, D.O. and Integrative Medicine Specialist, is the hub of my medical team.  She spends a great amount of time listening to me.  She takes a varied approach that includes, but is not limited to, pharmacology, homeopathy, nutrition, physical therapy, and lifestyle. Most importantly she believes that I can experience a better quality of life than I have now and she is willing to walk with me until I get there.

Marcy Boughton, MS PT, is the physical therapy whisperer who is subtly coercing my body into healing itself. She has manipulated my skull, my spine, my organs, my limbs, and, I dare say, my mind. The woman is filled with the spirit of God — Biblical truth oozes from her as she applies her hands to my body.  It is really quite miraculous. I have never experienced anything like it. Once a week I spend an hour on her table and leave feeling energized and supported. Marcy recommended that I read Dr. Gary Kaplan’s Total Recovery which is reshaping the way I think about health and the human body.

Dr. Greg Peroff, DC, is the chiropractic support member of this team.  He continually reminds my sacroiliac joint of where it is supposed to hang out and keeps my head screwed on straight. Like the others, he is committed to my overall well-being and applauds me as I walk down this path.

Of course I have other players — my eye doctor who treats the ocular herpes that resulted from my time on biologic medicines, my former therapist who walked with me before and during my diagnosis and helped me begin to see that my pursuit of health is not merely medical, but also psychological and spiritual, and a great team of family and friends. Soon I will be recruiting an acupuncturist and a massage therapist to round out this crew.

When I write it all down it seems a little excessive and somewhat selfish to need so many people. That is, when I look at it with my natural mind. My natural mind wants to be self-sufficient and to soldier through any difficulty without the support of anyone else.  I want to kick butts and take names.

Good thing I also have the mind of Christ that reminds me that butt-kicking and name-taking contributed to me being in this position in the first place. The mind of Christ reminds me that God connects us with others for a variety of reasons. This team is supporting me, yes, and perhaps, in some way, I am also blessing them.

I didn’t choose the path of chronic illness, but I am choosing the path to wellness — body, soul, and spirit. I am turning away from thinking with my natural mind, and turning toward the mind of Christ. Moment by moment, I am turning.

I Corinthians 2:14, 16

14 The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned…16 “For who has understood the mind of the Lord so as to instruct him?” But we have the mind of Christ.

Turn at any time, a Re-visit

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment
Click the arrow above to hear me read this post.

I wrote this post in January of 2016, and since I’ve been on the topic of New Year’s resolutions, I thought I’d revisit it here. It serves as a reminder that while New Year’s resolutions are great, if we find ourselves on a wrong path, we can turn at any time.

When I was younger, I participated in the whole New Year’s resolution hoopla.  Each January I would determine to exercise more, be more diligent in my Bible study, write more, save more money, etc. Like many, I started off strong, then missed a day, fell off the wagon, or went back to my old ways feeling defeated and guilty.

At some point over the years, my pendulum swung to the other extreme, and I determined that I was fine, thank you very much; I didn’t need to resolve to change anything. I may have even scoffed at those who did make resolutions.

Eventually, I admitted that in fact I was not fine, thank you very much. I did need to, from time time, assess my situation and make some adjustments. However, in a mind-blowing realization, I discovered that change could happen at any time, not just at the beginning of the year. It could happen on February 19 or June 3. In fact, I could resolve to live differently on December 21, right before the Christmas holidays. Change didn’t have to be bound by the calendar. I could decide that I would write more starting at 2pm on a Thursday afternoon and sit down at the keyboard right then! What a radical thought!

And, if on the following Monday at 9am I realized that I had forgotten about my decision to write more, I could remember right then and get back at it! I didn’t have to wait until the next Thursday at 2pm!

By now, I have realized that, despite my good intentions and my continued determinations to change, I continue to find a way to fit failure into each and every day. I resolve to call a friend, be consistent with exercise, pray each morning, etc, etc., then I find myself binge-watching some Netflix show that adds virtually no value to my life!

It happens, and then I have a choice — I can continue to ignore my resolutions, or I can turn toward them. If you’ve tried this at home, you know that turning isn’t typically easy or final. Right now I am turning toward my good practices of Bible study, prayer, and writing. In a few minutes I might be finishing the sewing project I have resolved to finish today, or I might get distracted by Words with Friends or Facebook.

Let me just take a moment to say here that I don’t think Netflix, Words with Friends, or Facebook are evil…if you know me, you know that I enjoy each of these 21st century phenomena quite a bit. However, just like anything else in our stimuli-rich world, they can distract me from my turning. They can get me walking away from what I want and need most. So, from time to time, I have to set them down, take stock, and remember why I am turning.

I am turning for a fuller, richer, more meaningful life. More prayer gives me a healthier connection with the Father. More Bible study provides a richer foundation in the truth. Consistent writing allows me to process all that I take in each day, everything I’m learning. These practices — prayer, Bible study, writing — center me. They breathe newness into me.

So, today I am turning toward them. Tomorrow I may get distracted for a bit, but I won’t wait until next year to redirect. I can turn at any time.

Because of the Lord’s great love [we can return at any time], for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22-23, Rathje Revised Version

Sumballo, a Re-visit

~ Kristin ~ 3 Comments

This post, written right after Christmas 2015, seems relevant today. As you gather all the pieces of your holiday celebration and ponder them in your heart, may God grant you the wisdom to see the big picture.

This morning, I opened my morning devotion from Beth Moore’s Whispers of Hope: 10 Weeks of Devotional Prayer and found this verse from Luke 2 — the Christmas story:

But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.

Luke 2:19

When I’ve read this verse in the past, I’ve pictured Mary holding baby Jesus in her arms kind of shaking her head in disbelief; I’ve imagined her saying, “Well, you weren’t kidding, were you? You said I would conceive and bear and son, and here he is!” I’ve imagined pondered to mean “wondered in astonishment.” However, Beth Moore, a biblical scholar, corrects my image a bit; she says pondered is translated from the Greek word sumballo which means “taking many things, casting them together, and considering them as one”. These words make me picture tossing many snapshots onto a table, discovering connections between them, and finding the theme of the collection.

Among Mary’s photos I see — her pregnant body on a donkey on that long journey to Bethlehem, her downcast eyes in the moment when her parents discovered her ‘situation’, her peaceful resolve during tense conversations with Joseph, and her brow beaded with sweat during the labor and delivery amid the straw and dung. I see images of the first glance at her child, I hear the knock on the wall of the stable when the shepherds arrived, I smell the frankincense when she opens the gifts from foreign dignitaries.

When she pondered those moments “as one” what did they add up to for her?

I’m sitting here three days after Christmas in my little house by the river, and I, too, am taking a moment to ‘sumballo’. I’m looking back at the events of the last few weeks — the parties, the visits with family, the gift buying and giving, the hopes, the disappointments, the laughter, and the tears — and I’m casting them together as one.

In fact, this whole blog — every post on every day –has been an attempt to ‘sumballo’. Since I started writing in the summer of 2014, I have been looking back over sections of my life: I’ve been ‘casting them together’ and ‘considering them as one’.

Sometimes we are  tempted to look at isolated moments as defining moments — that time that you lied to a trusted a friend, the year that your parents were divorced, the semester that you failed a class, that car accident that nearly claimed your life, the winning football championship, the Homecoming coronation, the birth of a child. Certainly these moments shape us, but they do not define us — not in isolation. They only offer hints until we sumballo  — until we put these moments into perspective as parts of a whole.

If I am going to look at the fact that for the ten soldiering years of my life I was way too busy, and I often overlooked the emotional needs of my family, if I am going to acknowledge that this behavior was costly to my physical, spiritual, and emotional health and to the physical, spiritual, and emotional health of my family, I can’t view that time in isolation. If I am going to truly sumballo, I need to look at other seasons as well. I need to remember that I also stayed at home with my children for almost ten years — nurturing, hugging, reading, teaching, correcting, and guiding. I need to acknowledge that for the past five years I have been recovering from soldiering and learning a new way. Within each of these periods have been awesome moments  — young children singing happily in the car on a road trip, teenagers rolling on the floor with laughter, and young adults gathering for the holidays. However, each period has also had moments of devastation — betrayal, trauma, and disappointment. If we grasp onto any one moment and let it define us, we get a a distorted view. In order to see the clearest picture, we have to cast all of the moments together. We must consider them as one. Only then, can we discover a theme.

And what is that theme? Way back in my twenties when someone challenged me to write my testimony, I wrote that the theme of my life was “rescued by grace”. Even in those early years, I knew that God had been protecting me, walking with me, holding his cupped hands beneath me to carry me through. He was overlooking mistakes, forgiving wrongs, and allowing me second and third and fourth chances. When I was careless, he protected me. When I was selfish, He was benevolent. When I was hateful toward others, He poured love on me.

He rescued me with grace.

As I am approaching fifty, I look back at all the events of my life, and I ponder them all in my heart. Time and again I see my  failed attempts to do things on my own followed by God’s miraculous provision. I see God transforming my pain into compassion for others. I see my pride falling into humility. I see the love of God.

I wonder what Mary thought as she pondered ‘all these things’ in her heart.  She had to see God’s miraculous provision in a faithful husband, a place of shelter, and safety from Herod. She had to see God transforming her pain and embarrassment into compassion for others. She had to feel humbled in the presence of the Christ child. She had to see the love of God for herself and for all of humanity.

Despite our weaknesses, our poor choices, our sin — He loves us. He has seen every moment — every victory, every failure, every injury and every recovery. None of it has been a surprise to Him. He has gone before us, and He has held us in the palm of His hand. He has cast all the events of our lives together and saturated them with grace.

That is the message that I find when I sumballo.

Try Waiting in Silence

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

I don’t usually know what I am going to write about before I sit down.  Today’s no exception.  I find the time in my day and then sit down at my desk.  I read a devotion and then start moving my fingers over the keys.  Today, my devotional book, Beth Moore’s Whispers of Hope, which I am reading through for the second time, directed me to Psalm 62.  I read the Psalm and then turned to what Beth had written about it.  About half way through her page, she told me to go back to scripture and read aloud verses 1-2 and 5-8.  If you are so inclined, you could read them aloud right now:

For God alone my soul waits in silence; from Him comes my salvation.  He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken.

For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from Him.  He only is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be shaken.  On God rests my salvation and my glory; my mighty rock, my refuge is God.

Since, as of yesterday, I am getting back to writing my blog, perhaps this verse is a fitting reminder of where I started eighteen months ago. I had just committed to taking six months to be still and wait.  I, a self-proclaimed butt-kicking, name-taking soldier, had agreed to put down my weapons for a season in order to recover from some battle wounds.

In fact, if you recall, my injuries had rendered me useless to the soldiering business.  I hadn’t surrendered willingly, but had been pulled from battle per executive order.  I would like to say I left kicking and screaming, but in reality, by the time that I was summoned from my position, I was too exhausted to utter much more than a whimper of acknowledgement.

I was plunked down in this little house by the river with a laptop, my Bible, and nothing but time. If you’ve been reading with me for the past eighteen months, you know that my journey to recovery has been slow and circuitous. I have made progress in fits and starts, proving, time and again, that I am no longer fit for battle.

Nor was I ever intended to be. I wasn’t called to fight or conquer or even defend.  I was called to wait in silence.  I was called to run to my refuge, seek my shelter, and find my salvation in the Rock.

Now, it might seem that seeking shelter means taking myself out of the war entirely.  Not true.  I can enjoy shelter in the midst of chaos, in the midst of trial, in the midst of downright warfare.  I won’t be oblivious to the turmoil that surrounds me, but I will be safe, secure, and held.

For a very long time, I thought it was my job to keep peace, to quiet cries, and to overcome the enemy.  And, boy did I try.  And fail.  In fact, I would say that my efforts to fight battles that were not mine actually caused more harm than good — to myself and others because the battles were not mine; the war is already won.

That’s why I have permission to wait in silence.   If I am busy soldiering on, I miss the action.  But if I watch and wait, I “see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living” (Psalm 27:13).  How do I know this? Because I’ve been seeing it.

I wonder if in your stillness you are seeing it to….

Back at it

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

When I started this blog about eighteen months ago, I had every intention of writing every single day.  I had read in Stephen King’s On Writing that he required himself to write 2000 words each morning before he allowed himself to do anything else.  That’s a lot of words. His theory was that the exercise of writing itself would produce better writing.  And, I mean, it has worked out pretty well for him, hasn’t it?  So, agreeing with his premise, I purposed to write every morning before I did anything else.

For the first six months, that writing was my anchor.  That, and exercise, and all the other healthful routines I built into my life for this Next Chapter.  The anchors were critical to my well-being.  I hadn’t yet made many friends here in Ann Arbor.  I wasn’t working.  We didn’t have a church family.  I needed those anchors to bring order and sanity to my days.

The bonus, of course, was that I had created a venue through which to process all my thoughts about the major move we had made and all the transitions it involved.  And, the unintended benefit was that I was also able to see, through my writing, all that had transpired during the soldiering years. This writing, this daily discipline, had become a pouring out of my soul in the presence of many witnesses — a confessional that provided deep healing.  So, I continued writing.

When I started tutoring last January, I was still able to maintain my daily writing, my exercise regimen, and my weekly Bible study.  It wasn’t until April, when I went back to work on a more regular schedule that something had to give.  And, as in the past, those healthful routines were the first things to go.  I let go of my regular exercise and instead tried to fit in a walk every now and then.  I stopped going to my weekly Bible study because it met during the day. My blogging became more sporadic while I learned to juggle work with family and sleep.

Even so, I was still able to find time for my personal Bible study and blogging at least a couple times of week.  This routine continued to anchor me and provide a venue for all the change that was happening inside of me — the learning, the healing, the growing.  And, in fact, I have been able to add back the other disciplines over time, too.

So I get to a day like today, where I look back and see that I have not blogged (or done personal Bible study) in seventeen days, and I say, “What’s up? For what have you abandoned this discipline? What have you decided was more important than this daily breath that centers you and allows you to process emotion? Have you been soldiering?”

Well, not exactly.  But kind of.  I mean, it is December — the month of parties, and semester finals, and travel, and gifting, and preparing.  So everyone has been busier than they were just a month ago.  And, yes, I have tutored more in the last four weeks than I have all year.  I have edited countless papers, met with more than a dozen different students, and graded close to one hundred essays.  I’ve gone to weekly physical therapy, and two doctor appointments.  I’ve exercised, socialized, cooked, crafted, and shopped til I dropped.

So, it’s time.  It’s time to get back to the discipline that orders my thoughts. It’s time to be still and breathe.  It’s time to get back to my writing.

 

[I] proclaim to you what [I] have seen and heard,…  [I] write this to make [my] joy complete.

I John 1: 3, 5 Rathje Revised Version

Imperfect, but fabulous

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

It’s the season of giving — this is especially true in the Rathje household.  Yes, it’s December, which means the Christmas holidays are coming, but at our house, December also means birthdays.  My husband, three of our four children, and our only grandchild were all born in December.  For as long as I can remember, the festivities start with Thanksgiving and end around New Year’s Day. It used to overwhelm me, but now I buckle in and enjoy the ride.

Granted, it is easier to enjoy the ride now that I am not working full time.  I am able to think about gifts a little more thoroughly, purchase them at my leisure, wrap them a little more carefully,  and mail them at off-peak times. I have picked up gifts in a variety of places as I make my way around town. I have ordered many items online, and for the first time in a very long time, I am actually making several gifts.  I can’t tell you specifically what they are, but I will say that I have dusted off my sewing and crocheting skills.

Making these gifts has been quite eye-opening.  I started with some small projects that took about an hour each.  As I was making these items, I thought about potential recipients; these were the kind of gifts that I could give to a variety of people — coworkers, friends, students.  I selected colors with certain individuals in mind and, although I was often crafting in front of the television, I couldn’t help but think about each person as I was creating his or her item.

The projects got a little larger.  My daughters were perhaps the first recipients.  Since they had recently moved into their first apartment together, I made them some throw pillows and a little mis-matched lap blanket.  The items weren’t really spectacular,  but I took pure joy in creating them and surprising my girls with them.

One of the largest projects so far is for my son, I sat with his project several nights in a row…I pictured him opening it in his apartment at Fort Bragg.  I pictured him figuring out what it is.  In my mind, I saw him sitting with it, just as I was sitting with it.  My dog snuggled close to me as I worked on it.  I saw dog hairs weaving into my creation; I didn’t remove them. I knew my son would see them and smile.

As I have finished project after project, I have gotten a little more daring.  The current project is by far the most challenging.  I have at times thought of abandoning it, tearing it apart, or throwing it in the trash.  It involves multiple pieces that had to be joined together.  The joining is imperfect. In fact, the whole project is imperfect, but I keep moving forward on it.  I keep hoping and believing that when it is finished it will be, although imperfect, somewhat fabulous.

And I guess that is the object lesson I was writing to today.  Each of the people I am purchasing or creating gifts for is imperfect but pretty darn fabulous.  In fact, it is sometimes their imperfections that make them so remarkable — their ability to endure despite challenges, to stand in the face of opposition, and to get back up after being knocked down are their most impressive character traits.  I am honored to have each of them in my life. I am blessed to have the time, now, to think of each one as I prepare these gifts.  I am thankful to bear witness to their fabulousness.