Help a Girl Out...

Okay.

Confession.

I am the kind of girl that will read anything that you put in front of me. That being said, with my limited time,  I like to devote my very, very few leisure hours to things that are worth my time.

That being said, I'm a skeptic to devote an entire weekend to the adventures of Katniss Everdeen.

(via)

I currently have all three books in my possession (Emily, you will be reunited with them eventually...), but I'm not sure if they're worth my time.

Two of my roommates have read them (and I am the ONLY reader in this house) so that should be enough to convince me, but I'm just not sure.

Someone give me a straight answer and back it up with evidence:

Should I, or should I not,  give "The Hunger Games" a shot?

Thank you for your time,
Reba.

January 3, 2012 {dinner with megan and roomie shout-out}

Today, I sped home--as fast as Outer Beltline rush hour traffic would let me--walked in my door, slammed said door, and then yelled to my roommates that "I hate my job."

The statement is not exactly true. I have the world's best students. But, I hate the politics that come along with teaching. I get that I work for the government...but leave me alone and let me do my job. Please and thank you.

Anyhow, I promptly texted one of my best friends, Megan, and begged for dinner out so that I could unload all of my teacher woes on to a fellow teacher and have some sympathy from another of the species. Being the beautiful, kind-hearted friend that she is, she met me a few hours later and let me unload.

When I say "unload" I mean "dump all of my crazy crap onto her lap with lots of gesticulating and sarcasm." Megan's good at taking my sass. She has been for a few years.

I remember the first time I had a conversation with Megan. It was during one of the many classes that we had together at NC State and she had to peer-edit my paper. Megan was the first person in the history of the world to give me legitimate and honest feedback on my writing. Most people just nod and call it a day. Megan bled all over my paper and then some. At first I was flabbergasted that someone didn't think that I was the next great American novelist...but then I realized that she was absolutely right about everything she said and she made me a better writer.

Now, three years later, I'm sure she would still be make me a better writer, but more importantly, she's making me a better person. Just by being there.

Megan and I ate some delicious pasta at Noodles & Co. and talked about life, our students, and our crazy co-workers for the next two hours.

This little piece of my blog is dedicated to my sweet friend who rarely arrives anywhere on time, was born a Yank but is a Southerner at heart, and who is truly a blessing in my life.

I took the liberty of giving Megan some love one night at the PR (a common hang-out for us LTN girls). This is one of my favorite pictures of all time.

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I was just going to give the blog post to Megan and call it a night, but I truly cannot dismiss the godsends that are my roommates.

After I ran into my house this afternoon and declared my unhappiness to all that could hear, I then did a fabulous rendition of "Hell Hath No Fury Like Rebekah" to Ava Michelle and Jamie.

After pacing around the house and huffing loudly to attempt to discharge all of my angst, I decided I needed to bake. Baking takes all of the woes out of life and turns the troubles into edible pieces of heaven.

Cookie Dough Truffles were the cure for this round of sorrows.

Except that I was out of ONE ingredient.

I couldn't run to the store because I had to meet Megan for dinner.

I exhaled even louder to attempt to purge this new misfortune and my roommates were alerted of the new evil in my life.

Jamie promptly arrived at my side with a piece of Godiva. If I couldn't make my own piece of heaven, certainly a piece of mass-manufacteured chocolate would do the trick!

Ava Michelle called Alecia and mentioned my anguish and Alecia stopped at the nearby Food Lion to get me a can of sweetened condensened milk.

When Alecia came home and handed me the small, Eagle Brand can, I let out a yelp and sent up a prayer of thanks for these sweet girls.

We proceeded to dance in the kitchen and tell stories and laugh and then eventually dove into the mouth-watering morsels of butter and chocolate...a girl's two best (culinary) friends.

Note: Kimberly, come home soon :)

January 2, 2012 {the borough}

Since this was my last day to sleep in before going back to school, there was not an alarm set in this house.

Once Milley woke me up, I headed downstairs and grabbed a stack of papers that needed to be graded. I'm happy to report that it's DONE. That's right, done. D-O-N-E. Done. I can't believe it myself. But I was so excited.

About 11 a.m. I asked one of my roomies if she had any plans for the evening, when she said she didn't, I replied that I would love a girls night out to commemorate Christmas Break 2011 and also to celebrate all of this grading being done.

We decided that downtown Raleigh was best and thanks to the ever-so-handy Google, we stumbled upon

The Borough. It had decently priced food and good cocktail list...table for four please!

Ava Michelle, Alecia, Jamie, and I headed downtown and into the quaint little restaurant. We were so pleased to find out that on Monday - Friday most appetizers are 1/2 off!

I had the Boomerang for an appetizer (you say 'spinach and mushrooms' and I come running!) and The Brute Squad for my entree.

They were both incredible.

I could eat the Boomerang with a spoon! If there had been any left after I had finished my chips, I would have! For the small prices, the portions were great!

They put some sort of wonderful spice mix on the french fries. There was not a fry left on the table.

And you'll notice there wasn't any Boomerang left either...

One note about The Brute Squad: it was delicious, but I ordered mine medium rare. I swore it moo-ed a few times as I bit in to it. May I suggest that you order yours "medium" when you go :)

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I don't want to spoil the excitement for anyone, but the bathrooms were out of this world. I loved the signs that designated which was "guys" and which was "gals"--you'll have to visit to see for yourself--but to top it off, this little guy was waiting for us in the soap dispenser.

I was concerned that I had drank my cocktail too fast (The Big Mama, for those of you that were curious--and yes, I'll be getting it again; the perfect blend of sweet and kicker) but thankfully Ava Michelle was my bathroom buddy and she confirmed that yes, indeed, there is a lion in the soap dispenser.

After a very productive day and a lovely dinner out with my roomies, we're all going to curl up on the couch to watch the season premiere of The Bachelor.

It's been the perfect way to send out Christmas 2011!

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You'll notice that I've added a new label to my collection: "restaurant reviews". The idea came up to make a roomie outing a weekly thing to explore this great city that we live in. If you're from the area, come on back every now and again and see what good eats we've stumbled across.

Also, if you have any suggestions as to where we should go, feel free to comment. We'll go and report back!

January 1, 2012

2012 started off a bang...and by "bang" I mean a low-grade fever. Isn't that awesome? I didn't make it to the acorn dropping, as is custom in my state, or to the TV to watch the ball in NYC drop. I was snoozing in the bed when the rest of the Eastern Time Zone was shooting off fireworks, kissing their beloveds, and drinking down some alcohol.

I allowed myself the privelege of sleeping in on the first day of 2012 because it was my second-to-last day to do it before school started back.

If you had walked in to "The Manor" as my house is lovingly called on January 1st, you would have thought that it was a mandated work day...

This is a picture of my dining room table.

I've kind of moved in.

Two boxes of papers to grade and a very long to-do list had me occupied all day January 1st.

It's really hard to complain about my job when you love it so much.

And I get two weeks off at Christmas.

Aren't you jealous?

Happy 2012, everybody :)

Temporary Strength.

My life seems to define the word "temporary" these days.

My job is "temporary" and will be over soon.
My time with my kiddos is "temporary".

My living situation is "temporary". One week I live in Raleigh, the next Wendell.

I am a completely Type A kind of girl. I have lists and plans and thrive on organized chaos. I hate not knowing where I'm going to be three paychecks from now. I hate not knowing what to do about my living situation come January.

Some days I want to be a teacher for the rest of my life. Some days I don't want to be a teacher for another minute. Even my decisions seem to be temporary!

Eden will only be a baby temporarily so I have to soak up her cuteness and her hugs and kisses as much as I can now.

My girls will only be in Raleigh temporarily because the next two years are going to fly by faster than the last two years did...and that makes my heart so heavy.

Everything is temporary.

And I am made for eternity.

Those two things don't exactly mix.

To move on to another tangent, the loneliness that is creeping into my soul is overwhelming.

I've said before that I don't have a best friend. I never have. I have lots of good friends, but I don't have that one person that I can call at any hours of the day, every day. Those girls that had that one friend in middle school that they spent every waking hour with...I used to make fun of them. I really did. I didn't get it. I liked knowing that I had A LOT of friends and not just one or two. A piece of me regrets not deeply investing now.

I sit in a room with eighty-eight children all day every day. I can only share a piece of myself with them. It would be wrong and unhealthy to find my identity in "being a teacher" because if that were true, then days like today--where they don't listen and don't care and are just all-out RUDE--would be the death of me. To have half conversations for almost five hours a day can wear out a soul. Especially when there is no one to help rejuvenate you.

You're probably wondering why I titled this post "Temporary Strength" if all I'm going to do is whine all night.

Well, people have always said that I'm a strong person. Some have said it for physical purposes, others for emotional, others for spiritual. I've always laughed because I don't see it. I see my flaws when I look introspectively. I see where I am lacking and what needs to be improved and I calculate how to do so.

It's hard. Every day.  The lack of genuine conversation. The lack of a true support group. The feeling of being the outsider or the third wheel.

I know I am blessed. I know I am supported. I know this...but knowing and feeling are two different things.

I am going to allow my lack of strength to take over for a moment, and I'm going to be weak and sink in humility for a second.

I need a support group to love me and encourage me. I need friends that love Jesus and can point me to Him. Friends that are present and in my life. And at a stage of life where my schedule is the exact opposite of everyone else's...that doesn't exist.
I need prayer so that I can desire and seek to be filled by Him instead of trying to find my identity elsewhere.
I need to accept that He made me this way and no other way because His plan is perfect.
I need to accept that I am doing what He wants me to do, and I need to renew the faith that this is where I am supposed to be...because my soul is longing for bigger and greater.
I need to find joy and not just contentment.
I need to remember that I am fighting the good fight and to not back down when outside forces tell me differently.
I need to remember that the right thing to do is never the easy thing to do.

...

...

...

I need to broken again because then He can fix it and put everything back together in the right place.

I know that sounds so weird and I know what I'm asking. It doesn't matter how many days come between me and my depression-filled months...those memories of that defeat and heartbreak are never far away.

But I also know that I can keep scraping the bottom of the barrel and always come up short...or I can be put together perfectly and let things work themselves out.

Any strength that I can find within myself with only last for a few moments. Strength that is built elsewhere will last a lifetime.

I am out of strength. Just add that to the list of the things that are temporary.

A Heavy Heart.

I am not a morning person. I never have been, I doubt I ever will be.

It amazes me daily that I was made to be in a profession that requires me to get out of bed before the sun. Most days I say that I'm up before Jesus, just to make a joke out of it.

One thing that I am thankful for with this early morning job is the sunrise. Every day I see the world begin anew. The birds are waking up and singing praises; the trees dust off yesterday's dew and seek the warmth of the sun; the grass is thankful for the bright sphere rising above it to wipe away the cleansing dew and begin a new day.

On Tuesday, I led my kiddos through the "Word Olympics". We had so much fun. There was paint, food coloring, water, jump ropes, digging for treasures...I had a blast. I walked away covered in dirt, water, sweat, and paint, but my kids had a blast and they learned so much. I didn't care that I was gross, because my children learned something new on Tuesday. I could see it in their eyes.

At the end of the school day on Tuesday, my principal stepped into my room with news that broke my heart.

When I took this position, I knew that there was slight chance that it would be a temporary position. Everyone assured me to not worry about that, there was no way that it would be temporary; I would be here until June.

This is not the case.

I will be leaving my kiddos in January.

I will be leaving the school that raised me, the teachers that formed me, the principal who guided me.

The children who are the reason that I get out of bed every morning between 4:30 a.m. and 5:30 a.m. will no longer be in my life in January.

This is a crappy reality to comprehend.

I have to leave the teachers who are mentors, the teachers who are friends, the staff who have become guiding lights through this insane process of first-year teaching.

This. Sucks.

As soon as I heard the news, that "little voice in the back of my head" said, "I've got you. Remember that I've got you." I am deeply struggling to listen to that voice right now.

This morning, as I'm sitting at my desk, typing this blog entry, the sun is coming up over the practice football field. There's dense line of oak trees on the opposite side of the field.These trees are glowing with the promise of a new day. The grass seems to be dancing in the wind, waking up to face the heat and the children. My children are starting to straggle into their seats as the tardy bell approaches. I see on their face that they are sleepy, but I also see in their eyes that they know they are here for a purpose: to learn and be educated.

It's my job to teach them and to educate them.

So as the light blue sky is being caressed by whispy white clouds, and the bright green trees are simply a silhouette to a beautiful morning sunrise, I will remember that my purpose is greater than my pain.

I will not be giving in to the bitterness and the defeat. I will continue to stand in front of my 87 children and tell them every day that they are loved, that they are important, that they are smart, and that they are kind.

I only have until January to teach them everything important in life. But every day, I have sunrise to remind me that mercy is new every morning, and that this position was God-breathed and He has me in the palm of His hand.

I Believe and I Worry.

I believe in praying big.
I believe that when I pray, I am speaking to a big God.
So big that He created the heavens and the earth.

I believe that He wants us to pray big.
I believe that He is kind and loving and gentle.
I believe He hears every word that I say. Every word that I say to Him or to others. I believe He knows every thought that goes through my head.

"Indeed, the very hairs on your head have been numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows."
Luke 12:7

I believe that He pays attention to me so closely throughout the entire day that even as I shed my hair worse than my puppy does, He still can, at any moment, tell how many hairs I have on my head. He can also tell me how many hairs I have ever grown on my head. I believe He pays this close attention to me out of love, because He created me in love and I believe He will never stop loving me.

This summer He called me close to Him. He has pulled me to sit at His feet and listen. He has pulled me into His lap to learn to trust and to be comforted. He has put me in places where I am alone so that I only have Him to cry out to. This summer He has provided my every need in the moment where it has needed to be met.

When I was in a car accident in June, He provided friends who stepped up and gave me rides to work.
When I was in need of a car after mine was declared totaled, He provided multiple family members with willing hearts to share their vehicles with me so I could continue going to the doctor and going to work.
When I didn't know how I was going to buy groceries at the end of the spring semester, He provided a gift card to Target from a friend to commemorate graduation. It was just enough to buy a week's worth of food until my next paycheck.
When I needed rest more than anything else, He had already provided wonderful bosses who let me take time off after my wreck.
When I couldn't fully dress myself about my wreck due to injury-based physical limitations, He provided a mother and sister to help me.
When I needed time alone and someone to talk to, I always seemed to have an errand to run. An errand whose drive was just long enough for me to scream my unhappiness into "the void" and move on with my emotions before arriving to my destination. Even when "no one" was listening, it amazed me how much better I felt.
When I contracted pink eye, He provided wonderful parents to pay my bills and fill my prescriptions, even though I'm "on my own."
When I needed a full-time, grown-up job after graduation, He led a principal to call me, even though I hadn't applied for this particular position.
When I asked for outrageous things to be a part of this full-time, grown-up job, He gave me all of them, just because He loves me.
When I prayed for peace harder than my lungs pray for air, He took control of the situation, manuevered it out of my hands, and gave me a peace so chilling I questioned the state of my physical and mental health.

I truly believe that this summer was pieced together so that I would learn to trust in Him. This summer was the beginning of my adult life and I believe that it was used as the foundation of the rest of my life. When building a foundation, one needs to trust...to trust that the foundation will carry whatever weight is put on it for the remainder of the time that it is asked to stand. Trust that no matter what storm blows or activity proceeds, the foundation will continue to be strong.

"Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
Matthew 11:28-30

I struggle with trust. I have seen trust broken more often than I have seen it kept. I have seen friends betray loved ones and I have seen promises dismissed. I have seen people forgotten.

And yet, there is this Savior, who asks me to get out of bed every day and remember Who He is. Remember how great He is. He asks me to believe and to trust that every day He will remember me. Every day He will love me. Every day He will cherish me. Every day He will guide me. Every day He will provide for me.

Every day, He keeps His promise.

"Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from the will of your Father."
Matthew 10:29

My biggest fear is that one day He will go back on His promise. My biggest fear is that one day He will forget me. My biggest fear is that one day He will let me fall to the ground. My biggest fear is that He will stop loving me.

But He hasn't broken a single promise in thousands of years.

Not only that, but He slaughtered His own Beloved Son to bring me to Him.
He turned away from His boy so that He could look on me.
He watched as His Son was torchured...
As His Son was whipped...
As His Son was chained....
As His Son was spat upon...
As His Son was dragged...
As His Son was mocked...
As His Son was crying out...
As His Son bled...
As His Son was pierced with nails...
As His Son hung dying...

so that He could look on me.

"Then Jesus said to his disciples: 'Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat. or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable are you than the birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest? Consider how the flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will He cloth you--you of little faith!"
Luke 12:22-28

While the Lord is showing me His favor daily, I continue to worry. I worry that He will forget me. I worry that I will go hungry. I worry that someone may not like me. I worry about there not being enough hours in the day. I worry about being able to properly educate my students. I worry about paying my bills because they're due before the check comes.

I worry, and the Lord laughs.
I worry, and the Lord waits for me to finish freaking out.
I worry, and the Lord shakes His head with a smile on His face.
I worry, and He replies...

"Rebekah, allow Me to love you."

My prayer through this entire summer has been, "I am expecting You to show up. I am expecting You to fix this. No Sir, this is not a request."

Here I am again. Sitting at His feet. Pleading into His eyes to love me, comfort me, hold me, provide for me, show me how big He is, show me how mighty He is, show me how beautiful He is, show me how deeply He loves me, show me how true He is.

"Lord, I'm expecting You to show up."

Let's see how He does it this time...