Tag: change

Change is in the air

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

THE. SNOW. IS. MELTING!!!!

I am pretty excited about this.  Yesterday, my husband and I took our dog to the park to walk after a long winter hibernation.  We were not alone.  The paths were crowded with prisoners set free from the bondage of subzero temperatures.  We sprung the clock forward and were launched into spring, or so it seems.

My husband announced this morning, “I packed my winter coat away.”  I walked across campus in just jeans and a sweater.  The sun is shining and it looks like we’ll hit the high forties and low fifties most every day this week.  Yippee!

Spring is so hopeful.  I just know that under the thick crust of snow, some daffodils are waking up and thinking about breaking the surface of the soil.  As the dingy whiteness melts into the river, fresh green grass will sprout and blanket the yard outside our home. It’ll be fresh and new.

I could use a little ‘new’.  Could you?

Some friends and I are meeting once a week to talk about turning, repenting, resting, renewing, and re-setting. It’s a pretty Lutheran/Lenten thing to do, really.  We start with Ash Wednesday acknowledging that “dust we are and to dust we shall return.”  We enter the Lenten season contemplatively, acknowledging the truth about ourselves and admitting — “I’m getting it all wrong.” So, these friends and I are really opening ourselves up to one another and inviting one another to ask, “How can I turn from this? How can I rest in this? How can I be renewed? How can I re-set?”

I didn’t really give anything up for Lent, but the addition of this weekly community of confession — of agreeing with one another that we don’t have it all figured out — has provided a space for me to be ok with my insufficiencies, to openly admit that I am a work in progress.

Now that may not be revolutionary for you, but for me it’s a space that I haven’t always allowed myself. I have spent a lot of energy over the years thinking I was right, justifying my actions, and plowing over (or simply ignoring) those who didn’t agree with me.

I mean, as long as I’m confessing, why hold back, right?

Over the years in my classroom, I often taught my students that “anybody can change.”  This was one of my many “mini-sermons” I gave to teach life lessons.  I would give the “anybody can change” sermon when students were annoyed with coaches, other teachers, each other, or their parents.  I would say, if we expect that people will never change, we don’t allow them the space to make changes.  I sometimes cited as an example a former student who prided himself on being the class clown.  He disrupted almost every class he attended and found himself meeting with the Admissions Review Board on more than one occasion.  We would say, “You are a natural born leader.  Please, use that power for good!  Lead your peers positively, not negatively.” For four years, we encouraged this student to change.  For four years we believed he could.  Yet, as he walked across the stage at graduation, we were still witnessing the immature disruptive student.  Three years later, the student showed up at my classroom door — shirt and tie, freshly cropped, and somewhat sheepish looking.  He wanted to let me know that he had become the captain of the football team at his university and that he had made the dean’s list.  “You were right, Mrs. Rathje.”  Anybody can change.

Now, I usually tell that story to point out the fact that anybody can change, but also to show what an amazing teacher I am — see what an impact I had on that student!  But really, the object lesson is for me.

Anybody can change.  Anybody can turn.  Anybody can re-set.  Even me.

2 Corinthians 5:17

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.

The old has passed away; behold the new has come.

Next Chapter Employment

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

In my quest for employment, I have inquired about and applied for many positions.  I’m getting the most work from a web-based service called Wyzant — this site helps me find students and helps students find me.  So far I have tutored a high school freshman getting ready for finals and a high school senior preparing for the ACT.  The site also connects me with editing jobs– I’ve helped a high school student with a short story and a college student with a transfer application.  Each day new opportunities pop up on Wyzant.  The site provides an email portal, a place for a my schedule, and secure payment.  It’s clean and professional.  I like it.

I mean, the joke among my friends is that this is a step up from the gigs I was getting through Craigslist.  Each time I mentioned I was meeting a new client I found on Craigslist, my family and friends rolled eyes, gave cautions, and laughed a little nervously.  But to be honest, my best client is one I found on Craigslist.  He’s been with me since November as he writes his Master’s thesis for his graduate degree from Harvard.  I’ve never met him, but we send documents back and forth through email, talk on the phone, and text.  I woke up Monday morning to an email that said, “Got my draft done!” I am so looking forward to reading and editing this work on high stakes testing and educator cheating — it’s fascinating! Craigslist has also allowed me to meet a local author and an international graduate student, and not one axe murderer!

Tomorrow I am starting a journey on perhaps the most legitimate of pursuits so far — employment with the Educational Testing Service as a certified test rater.  I was unaware until my confirmation email came — after a lengthy application and verification process — that the subject area I will be working in is — gasp — math!  (As I typed that little four-letter word, I heard laughing all the way from St. Louis, Missouri and Tanzania as former colleagues envisioned me doing anything — aside from counting — with math.)  Tomorrow morning I am supposed to spend four hours — four paid hours — learning how to be a test rater.  If I don’t pass the certification tomorrow morning, they will pay me to retake it one more time.  Well, ok, I will give it a try, even if it is math.

To be fair, the content is elementary level. And there was that one year when I was a long-term substitute teacher in the fourth grade and I lead math lessons from the chalk (yes, chalk) board.  I don’t remember anyone complaining that their number sense was destroyed for the rest of their educational career, but I have moved around a lot; maybe they haven’t been able to find me.

This journey has been very interesting.  I have no idea where I am headed, but I am exploring several different paths.  The good news is that I feel energized.  I love meeting students who want to learn.  Yesterday, as I was headed to meet a new student at a library I had never been to before, I received a text. “Mrs. Rathje, This is S________.  I am at the library.  I secured a private study room, 2B.  It is up the stairs and on your left.  See you soon.”  Did you get that? A high school senior arrived 30 minutes before I did, found us a room, logged into the internet, got a login code for me to use, pulled up her ACT score report, and greeted me with a smile and a handshake when I walked in.  (All the high school teachers out there are reading this with their mouths hanging open.)  This girl, who is a full-time student, a cheerleader, and part-time McDonald’s employee, leaned in with me for two hours and learned strategies for improving her score on the ACT.  She looked in my eyes, asked me questions, and agreed to do extensive homework before we meet next time — on a Saturday morning for two hours.  

Pretty sweet, isn’t it?  So, I have no idea where I am going to end up, but I am not minding it one bit.  Each day I have a new experience.  I’m not bored in this next chapter. 

Psalm 90:17

May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us —

yes, establish the work of our hands.

A break in the routine, re-visit

~ Kristin ~ 2 Comments

On Monday, I wrote about our recent cultural transition to social distancing in my post, Time Out. This post from January 2015, explores another time that I made a big transition.

My blender stopped working this morning. I think it got jealous of all the other items that have been leaving my house via the Minimalist Challenge and wanted to join them. It’s going to get its wish.

I filled the blender with all my healthy ingredients — almond milk, cashew butter, banana, etc. — then pressed the button that usually makes it whir and blend. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.  This happened once last week, but I walked away, came back a few minutes later, and it miraculously worked. Not today. I walked away with the rest of the parade of beverages, did my Bible study, then came back. Still nothing.

Since I moved to Ann Arbor, I have embraced routines. Ok, let me honest, for my whole life, I have embraced routines. I like repetition. I like order. I like predictability. So, I usually go through the same motions each day — smoothie, tea, devotions, writing, exercise, etc.

My husband, a teacher turned therapist turned pastor turned dean of students, told me shortly after I moved here that “routines are one of the best ways to manage a transition.” I am in the middle of a pretty significant transition — moving from working full time to not working, moving from Missouri to Michigan, moving from city living to campus living.

We all spend our lives in transition, don’t we? We transition from childhood to adolescence to adulthood to middle age to old age. We transition from single to married and perhaps back to single again. We transition from summer to fall to winter to spring. We are always in transition. Perhaps that is why we crave routine.

In the past week or so I have heard many people say, fresh from the holidays, “I am looking forward to getting back to my routine.” Our days have beginnings, middles, and ends that are largely very repetitive. We like that. So what happens when something happens to disrupt our routine?

We sleep through our alarm. The power goes out. The basement floods. We lose our job. We get sick. Someone dies. Our blender stops working. 

It’s a disruption. We have to stop in the middle of that beloved routine of ours and regroup. When we sleep through the alarm, we have to establish new priorities — shower or no shower? breakfast or no breakfast? notify the people who are waiting for us or break the speed limit to get there on time? When we lose our job, we have to reevaluate life and make some choices — find a new job? move to a new town? go back to school?

Our blender stops working and we have to decide what in the world are we going to eat for breakfast.

This morning I didn’t want to stop in the middle of my routine. I was already a little tight on time. I didn’t have a backup plan for something healthy to eat. And, guys, all the stuff was already in the blender! So what did I do? I kept moving for a bit. I went to my office and drank my other beverages, but without the smoothie, they were out of order!!!  This ruffled me a little, but I pressed on. I got through my morning email-checking and devotion-reading and checked the clock. I had to leave soon if I was going to meet my friend for a Pilates class. Should I make a bowl of oatmeal? grab a Kind bar? I thought about it as I got dressed, washed my face, and put in my contacts. I walked back into the kitchen and pressed the button on the blender one more time. Nothing. Sigh. I couldn’t just leave all those precious ingredients sitting in the blender on the countertop, so I poured them into a bowl, mashed the banana with a fork, stirred and swished as blender-like as I could, and ate that stuff with a spoon. Bam. Problem solved.

I wish all disruptions were this easy to manage, don’t you? This small disruption didn’t shape the rest of my day or the rest of my week, but many disruptions do. Some disruptions change our lives forever — an unexpected illness, a death, a global pandemic. No amount of routine can prevent such disruptions or prepare us for their impact. So, we may all of a sudden find ourselves reeling, desperately searching for something to hold onto.

When I find myself in such a position — feeling out of control and a little terrified, I return to routines — regular wake up and bed times, daily exercise, consistent food choices, and regular Bible reading and prayer.

Today, as I anticipate unprecedented uncertainty, I am thankful for my routines. Last night I set up my home office in preparation for telecommuting which begins today and lasts for the foreseeable future. More now than ever, I will return to my routines. I’ll get up at the same time, read my Bible, write my pages, practice yoga, take a shower, eat breakfast, and report to work on time just as I have been doing. Over the years, I’ve found that patterns like these provide the structure that anchors me.

Routines remind me that as sure as the sun rises each day, so does God remain the same. His mercies are new every morning.

Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Hebrews 13:8

Show me your ways, O Lord

~ Kristin ~ Leave a comment

Years ago I learned that if I am in regular daily Bible study God will speak through His Word directly into my life.  It’s such a powerful experience.  I can’t imagine why I would stray from this discipline knowing that this is how He reaches me.  But over and over in my life I have decided that other things were more important — sleep, work, reading novels, time with family, games on my phone.  It’s embarrassing, actually, to admit they I can so easily be distracted.  But I can.

So, after waking this morning, drinking two tablespoons of organic olive oil mixed with the juice of one organic lemon, doing the prescribed twenty minutes of Pilates, drinking the juice of the other half of the lemon mixed with hot water, downing the shake mix stuff blended with water and a banana, taking probiotics, vitamins, and my regular medications, drinking one cup of green tea with 56 grams of caffeine (yay!!), chopping tons of vegetables and making vegetable broth, cooking short grain brown rice according to specifications, washing all the dishes, adding to my compost pile, showering, and dressing, I sat down to do my Bible study.

I read Psalm 25, the reading for the day, To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul. O my God, in you I trust…Make me to know your ways, O Lord; teach me your paths…He leads the humble in what is right, and teaches the humble His way.  All the paths of the Lord are steadfast love and faithfulness…

Then I read the accompanying study in the book I am using at the moment, Whispers of Hope: 10 Weeks of Devotional Prayer.  The whole devotion was meaningful, but the last portion is what got me: “We encounter God’s challenge as He demands: Will you allow Me to dramatically alter your ways to teach you My own?” 

Well, yeah.  I think You stepped right in and altered them without waiting for me to hem and haw and reply.  You moved me to a different state, took me out of my job, and gave me a much smaller, more manageable home. You provided a new, slower lifestyle, opportunity to evaluate and reflect, and new friends to join me on my journey.  You hit the reset button on my life!  And now, this week, You are challenging me to look at my health in a different way, to take some chances, to be obedient to a regimen. It’s a little uncomfortable, a little scary.   It’s a dramatic alteration, after many other dramatic alterations.

So I am going to allow You?  We’ve been over this: You are God, I am not.  Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths.

“for you are the God of my salvation; for you I wait all the day long.”

Psalm 25: 5

Late night steam-of-conciousness

~ Kristin ~ 1 Comment

There will be a day with no more tears, no more pain, no more fears…

Jeremy Camp

It’s almost 7:00 pm and I have actually been up and moving since the other 7:00 today.  Yet, I didn’t fit in a work out.  I haven’t blogged.  I haven’t even watched any junk TV.

What did I do?  Well, I drove across town for an oil change — but I had the wrong time, so I had to reschedule.  I salvaged that trip by going through the car wash.  I came home and mixed up some gluten-free/dairy-free coconut-banana muffins. I sampled one before half of them were sent to my husband’s coworkers.  I got Starbucks.  I read about forty pages in a book I am editing.  I grabbed a quick snack before driving across town again for an appointment.  Three hours later I drove back home.  I made some baked swai and tried a new recipe for quinoa with kale, then shared both with my husband, along with a couple of the muffins from earlier in the day.

And what did this out-of-the-ordinary day yield for me?  Some good food, that is to be sure, some movement on my editing project, yes, and possibly, just maybe, a little shred of hope.

My  appointment  was with a doctor who practices integrative medicine.  Prior to going I had to submit my whole health record including lab reports, family history, a food diary, and list of medications.  I also had to physically carry in all of the medications and supplements that I currently take. The nurse did the usual measurements — weight, height, blood pressure, and temperature and then left me to wait for the doctor.

As I sat there waiting, utter fatigue flooded over me.  I could feel two years’ worth of frustration pushing up through me and trying to force its way out of my eyes.  Why did I think this doctor appointment would be any different?  Why did I think this doctor would have any answers, any solutions, or even any far-fetched schemes that might help me feel less-tired, less achey, less pathetic?

By the time she walked in almost twenty minutes later, I was feeling a bit defensive.  My answers to her first two questions ended up sounding a bit sharp, so I paused and said, “I’m sorry.  I am tired. I’m tired of feeling sick and tired. And doctors’ visits are very stressful.”  When she answered, “I’m sure they are stressful,” the tears threatened to spill over, but I checked them.  I took a deep breath and tried to answer as honestly and politely as I could for the next hour.  Yes, hour.

“Do you have any pain-free days?” she asked.

“No.”

“Well, let’s start there. Let’s see if we can get you a pain-free day.”

Seriously?  Pain-free?  I think she believes she can do it!  It’s going to take some work on my part.  But, what have I got to lose, besides some pain, right?

So, we started today with more blood work.  Ho-hum.  She changed the dosage on some of my supplements and removed some of the others.  Tomorrow I will do a ‘saliva test’. Then comes the hard stuff.

I agreed to do an ‘ultra simple diet’ for seven days.  It involves lots of veggies, rice, broth, and some shake mix stuff.  And it excludes almost all caffeine, alcohol, sugar, and virtually everything that isn’t veggies, rice, broth, and shake mix stuff.

Yes, I am agreeing to go off caffeine….except for green tea — bleh! — for seven days.  I am warning you now so that you can steer clear of Ann Arbor, spend extra time in prayer, and read my posts with compassion.

I’ll be cleansing my body of all kinds of toxins, she says.  I’ll be creating a blank slate, she says.  We’ll be able to know more then, she says.

I looked at the instructions for the ‘Ultra Simple Diet’ for a long time.  It doesn’t look like much fun at all. But I kept hearing her words in my head, “pain-free day, pain-free day, pain-free day…” She thinks it can happen.  No medical professional has dared hope with me for that in two years.

If I don’t try, I won’t know.

So, I bought the liver cleanse, the probiotics, and the shake mix stuff.  I’ve gotta go to the grocery store to get the specific veggies, fresh herbs, and organic whatevers I am going to need.  And I’ve gotta take two days, at least, to wean myself off caffeine.

This could get ugly, folks.  Good thing I re-committed to prayer a couple of weeks ago; I think it’s gonna be a requirement.

Ultimately I know that God can give me pain-free days whenever He chooses, with or without an ‘ultra simple diet’.  So far, He has provided emotional and lifestyle healing through this illness.  I am not sorry about any of that.  I don’t want to go back to being a soldier kicking butts and taking names. And, the only reason I stopped being a soldier was because I could no longer physically keep at it.  I crashed.  And burned.  And limped.  And moaned.

I am moving slowly and intentionally now because that is all I can do.  If I am physically healed, will I continue at this pace?  Or will I go back to soldiering? Is two years long enough for me to learn this lesson?

I don’t know any of those answers.

I want to be still and know that He is God.  I want to use my gifts to His glory.  I want to rest in the palm of His hand.

I have a pastor-friend who prays each morning that my illness will be completely reversed.  He tells me this every time I see him.  I tell him that not all healing is physical, and that God is blessing me through this illness.  But guys, he is an eighty-year-old pastor and he is praying for me every morning. 

I do want physical healing, if God has it for me.  I also want to be content with whatever He gives me.  I want to hold on to the lessons I have learned in the last two years and continue to learn more.  So, I’m gonna give this doctor’s plan a try, and at the same time, pray to the Great Physician that my healing will be complete.  I know it will be one day, perhaps even on this earth.

James 5:16

Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other

so that you may be healed.

The prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective.