Change of Location!

Hi guys! If you are not already aware, my blog has moved locations from Blogger to Wordpress!  I still check Blogger occasionally to keep up with my fellow bloggers that are still housed from Blogger.com, but my regular posts will now be posted directly to Wordpress.  I encourage you to check it out and follow me there :)

http://astagg927.wordpress.com/

A 6-Year-Old Mind

Six-year old minds are fragile little minds.  So much information and emotion is yet to enter those eager minds and souls and brains and bodies. 

I am walking a six year old through math problems.  Fact families.  Addends.  Sums.  Number lines.  Counting manipulatives.  Counting strategies.  I am watching her as she struggles to identify the plus sign as an addition symbol.  I watch as she counts two fingers on one hand and three fingers on the other, and struggles to add them all together to make five.  I watch and listen as her mother drops her off and expresses concern for her struggling daughter.  “She will be repeating the first grade,” her mother says.  “Her teacher last year fussed at her for counting on her fingers, but I don’t know how else she will get the answer if she’s not getting it.  Especially since she’s repeating.”  Madison hugs her mother’s waist tightly, knowing her mother cares about her; also knowing that she doesn’t catch on as fast as the other children. 

Madison and I look at the problem 4+2=____.  I ask her what number we need to start with to start counting.  She has no idea.  I asked her if this will be an addition or subtraction problem.  She has no idea.  I start her off at 4 on the number line and ask her to hop forward 2 times to get our answer.  She hops the other way.  She is struggling. 

Madison and I work on her addition.  And we work and we work and we work.  We are separated from all of the other kids at Math Camp.  We are in the corner, on the ground, celebrating with claps and yays and good jobs and high fives for every answer she gets correctly.  Every right answer is progress.  Every right answer deserves a celebration.  I watch Madison as she uses every ounce of energy she has and every brain cell she can muster up to add 4 and 2 together.  She is exhausted.  I am exhausted.  There is nothing inside of her that wants to give up.  There is nothing inside of her that wants to stop.  Everything in that six-year-old body wants to finish this page.  She wants to be smart. 

I look down at my own paper to check what problem Madison and I will conquer next.  What addition problem will we stare in the face and work until its death—so that we can confidently pencil in the answer on yet another blank?  I look back up at Madison so that I can start her off as I normally would—only this time; I find that she already has counted out two fingers on one hand, and three fingers on the other.  My heart skips a beat.  She has never started on her own before.  I watch as her little head nods to each finger at a time as she counts to total them up.  She mouths ‘one.. two.. three.. four.. five..”…. and then, still focused, picks up her pencil and marks a neat “5” in the empty blank. 

It all happened so fast.  I blink away tears.  My little girl, who 40 minutes ago could not tell me what a + sign meant—just added a problem by herself.  Yes, it was an easy problem.  Yes, she used her fingers.  Easy to us.  Easy to probably most six-year-olds.  But for Madison, this was a celebration.  This was everything we wanted.  It was everything she wanted—to feel smart. 

I notice that her flower barrette was hanging loosely off of her small six-year-old head.  I stopped her working and told her I would fix her hair.  I pulled the barrette out and she leaned her head down so I could reach her hair.  I twisted a small piece of her silky brown hair away from her face, and then securely fastened the flower back where it belonged, on the right side of her small six-year-old head.  She slowly picked her head back up and broke into a small grin.  “Do I look pretty?” she asked me.  I smiled and looked her square in the eyes as I firmly said, “Yes.”

Madison, this sweet six-year-old, with her six-year-old mind, her six-year-old emotions, her six-year-old brain, her six-year-old body, her six-year-old heart—this sweet, sweet, six-year-old longed to hear that she was pretty.  She longed to hear that she was smart.  These are not statements that should be lost on any six-year-old.  These statements need to be heard by six-year-old more than any other something-year-old. 

When I could respond to Madison’s longing question of whether she was smart or pretty, it was an amazing joy.  I understood the power of the words I had.  I understood the power of encouragement and celebration and looking someone square in the eye and telling them that they are worth something. 

I imagine that the joy that I had when I responded to Madison is the same joy God has when He can answer our questions about ourselves.  “Do I look pretty?” “Am I smart?” “Am I good at that?” “Am I worth anything?” “Do you love me?” “Am I loved?”  He smiles and looks us square in the eyes and firmly says, “Yes.”  And we can believe Him. 

Should we live life or document it?

Recently, I decided to take a little break from Instagram.  Honestly, my motive was being just really tired of seeing every minute of people's day-to-day life.  Did I really need to know every time someone was drinking a smoothie?  Did I really need to know every time someone was working out?  Did I REALLY need to know every time people were hanging out together?  It was exhausting tracking  all of these people and their hour by hour activities.

So I decided to take a hiatus.  I have fasted/taken breaks from social media many times, for different reason and for different lengths of time.  God is very consistent about speaking to me through these times, and did not fail to speak again during this particular hiatus.

Through not engaging specifically in Instagram, I felt less of a desire to take pictures throughout my day.  Typically, I will not go a day without taking at least one picture, and usually putting it on Instagram.  Over the years, I have come to be proud of the fact that I take a lot of pictures-- of friends, family, myself, events, etc.  Usually, other people that are a part of my life are happy that I take pictures-- either because they themselves are involved in that memory, or because it is an easy way to be updated on my life and what I am up to.

My main motive for taking pictures is because I am afraid to forget the memory.  I do not know if other people feel this way, but I am genuinely concerned that if there is not a picture from a certain event or memory, I will one day never recall it.  

During my time away from Instagram, I noticed myself enjoying my surroundings so much more.  Without being worried about taking a picture, I was able to laugh without documenting what was funny. I was able to drive without documenting where I was going.  I was able to spend time with my friends without documenting that I was.  I was able to look at nature without documenting that it was there.  I was able to drink a smoothie without anyone knowing.  I was able to work out without taking a picture of the treadmill. 

There was so much freedom in engaging in life without proving to the social networking community how my world was going. 

Not taking pictures correlated with Twitter and Facebook as well.  Who would have thought that I could think of something clever without feeling the need to post it?  Do people really need to know every time I think of something that could be enlightening or funny?  Why not be alone with God and my own thoughts?

In Love Does by Bob Goff, he writes, 

"I used to think I needed to record stories, but now I know I just need to engage them."

Like a child, it's all I know.

When I remember how much I have left to learn, I feel the need to hide away from the world until I have learned it all. 

But when will I have time to learn it all?

When will I know all there is to know about boundaries?
When will I know all there is to know about loving people?
When will I know all there is to know about being a woman of God?
When will I know all there is to know about taking risks?
When will I know all there is to know about preparing myself for marriage and commitment?
When will I know all there is to know about living in and taking advantage of my singleness?
When will I know all there is to know about the word of God?
When will I know all there is to know about maintaining and/or letting go of relationships?

There is so much that I have left to learn.  It's overwhelming.  I will never know it all.  I have already accepted this.  But I am committed to learning as much as I can.  I'm ready for God to empower me with knowledge. 

Listening and Following and Following and Listening

I want to dream big.
I want to rise above.
I want to invest in people.
I want to create.
I want to love people like they have not seen love before.
I want to be a part of a movement.
I want to see change.
I want to see community.
I want to invest in something bigger than myself.

My small little brain has been wrapping it's mind around it's future career path for as long as I can remember.

In the 3rd grade, we were assigned a task that entailed listing and drawing a picture of three different careers we might like to grow up to do.  I chose a writer, a pianist, and an artist.

In the 10th grade, we had to write an essay on the timeline of our lives.  At the end of our timeline included future plans, and we were required to write about what career path we anticipated taking.  I wrote about wanting to be a missionary. 

In the 12th grade, we took a career test to see how our personalities and interests correlated with possible career paths.  My results were in the Social Services field. 

Upon entering college my freshman year, I was required to choose a major.  This is not something that I could do easily.  I opted into the only thing I was sure about-- not knowing.  I became an Undeclared major in the College of Liberal Arts. 

My second semester of freshman year, since I was still unsure of my future career, I was advised to divide my schedule between Business classes and Education classes.  I quickly found out that Business was not my strong suit, and found God pulling me to continue in Education.

In the Fall of 2011, I completed student teaching and graduated in Elementary Education.

In the Spring of 2012, I began and completed a portion of an Art add-on certification program.

In May of 2012, I sit on the sofa of my parents house Googling non-profit organizations careers.

I come across an article called, "Are Non-Profit Organizations For You?"
The article lists the following 14 questions to ask yourself to find out if non-profits are for you:

1. Is it important for you to work for a cause?
2. Do you want to do something good for society?
3. Are you more humanitarian than materialistic?
4. Do you have a well-developed sense of right and
wrong?
5. Do you have strong ideals?
6. Do you like people?
7. Are you flexible? Creative?
8. Would you prefer working for an organization to
which you feel personally committed?
9. Do you want to be part of a team effort?
10. Do intangible rewards truly mean more to you than
money?
11. Would you rather be a generalist than a specialist?
12. Are you comfortable working in casual clothing?
13. Do you want the opportunity to have sole
responsibility for a project?
14. Does your self-image fit a “non-corporate” work
environment?

Here I sit, answering a big fat YES to every single one of those questions; wondering if I have been walking the wrong path for the last 4 years.

I have so many questions.  Looking back on my childhood, I never wanted to be a teacher.  Yet I felt God pushing me to be a teacher throughout college.  People affirmed me on my teacher-like qualities and encouraged me that I would be an excellent teacher.  Student teaching was the worst experience I have ever gone through.  I could not escape.  Every day I was tempted to run out of the front doors screaming to never return-- but one thing encouraged me to push through; it was a soft daily whispering from the Lord-- "This too shall pass."

And it did. It has passed and I will never look back.  The Lord continued to reveal to me that I didn't have to teach in a traditional classroom setting. This filled my heart with so much joy!  The Lord revealed that I should explore my creative abilities-- For myself, for Him, and for the children that I would teach one day.  I researched and discovered the All-Level Add-On Certification program for Art Education.  I would stay in school for 30 more hours to complete this program.

At that point, I had accepted a new vision of potentially teaching Elementary or Middle School art classes one day.  I was content and happy with this new vision.  Throughout the semester I continue to substitute for Lafayette Parish.  When I enter the schools to substitute, I do not feel a peace about one day teaching in these schools.  My heart is becoming more and more unsettled-- Why am I not happy about teaching?

I recently feel a tugging on my mind and soul and heart and spirit and subconscious and whatever other entity feels strong emotions--to explore options of non-profit organization career paths.  I have been researching, talking to people, and praying.  I feel excited and yet a heavy heart about this new dream.

My fear is that I will miss hearing from God.  That I have missed hearing from Him since I was a little girl.  My prayer is that His desires for me will become my desires.  That it will be so clear what He wants me to do that I will not doubt for a second.

I have been listening.  I have been following.  I will continue to listen and continue to follow. 

Musings From 2011: Dream Lofty Dreams

This is a collection of my words, thoughts, memories, and prayers from 2011. These words are directly copied onto this blog from their written state on various scraps of paper, torn napkins, and tousled index cards that I keep neatly paper clipped together and stored away.  Even though these words are not written delicately in a bound journal or were transmitted directly from my head onto a blog page-- these words are written from the depths on my mind and soul, which is why I keep them instead of tossing them out to the trash with other seemingly useless scraps of paper. When God speaks, or when my inner soul needs to spill out someplace beyond my head-- a journal or Blogger.com is not always handy.  Sometimes I have to make do with the closest empty space of paper around me, and I write as neatly as my shaky hand will allow until it evolves into an illegible scribble reflecting the musings of my mind.  I have compiled many of these musings into typed form and here they are-- a peak into the thoughts that are compelled to leave my head.

_________________________________________________

I felt like I was in an ocean while soaking.  I imagined myself in a huge amount of piercing blue water, and I was going up and down through it.  I didn't need to come up for air.  It was as if I was dancing under water to the music of God's movement.

When Jessica and I went to a coffee shop to do schoolwork, we talked about so many things: God, relationships, scripture, our thoughts on questions for lifegroup themes.  We were sitting near other people, and we talked so freely about God.  It was so natural and real.  I look back on this memory and look at is as so beautiful.  God was such a part of our hearts that we could talk about Him so freely, and He interconnected with everything else in our lives.  We weren't planning for lifegroup or planning to open a bible.  But we both sat there at that small coffee shop table with our bibles out, rustling through the pages, searching for answers.  Our hearts were truly wrapped in God.

Enjoy nature. Be flexible. Enjoy music. Enjoy where you are. Tea. Be here. Be organized. Elton John. Be in tune. Be clean. Write/Read/Feel. Be on time. Be free. Be real. Observe. Don't be so aware of yourself. Don't be aware of where others are in relation to you. Use less technology. Technology fogs the real world. Be here. Enjoy here. Talk. Sit. Run. Ride. Stay awake. Sleep. Dream lofty dreams. 

I have become more organized.  My handwriting has become more legible.  I have left a life in the dark and made it an open book.  I am working on breaking free of that other life.  I realize the importance of documenting my life into writing.

Father, I pray that student teaching is a way to reveal more about myself and my future in you God.  I pray to be in tune with you. 

Sitting in Griffin.
After morning devo, before Geography.
Reminds me of when I was in Greece.
When we would just choose somewhere to go sit and wait to the opportunity to talk to people.
Why don't I do this here?

Note to Self: You lose things in accordion folders. 

I love my lifegroup.  In our last lifegroup, we didn't start until an hour in because we were too busy talking.  It was a small group; only 5 of us.  And we talked about life and ourselves before opening up a bible.  Once we did, it was so natural.  It was as if we were intertwining it with the rest of our lives.  That's how it should be.  God should be so connected in our lives that it's not separate from anything else or forced. 

I once said to someone that I didn't want my family to get attached to a person who I wasn't going to marry.  I was asked by that person to repeat my statement, and I did, and they said it was "good stuff."  I don't even remember the exact wording of my sentence, but it was then that I realized my words had meaning.

At my house.
Cozy with blankets.
Making coffee.
My hair pulled back into a soft bun in the back of my head.
Reading a book about story.
Home from college on a weekend.
My dad watching The Godfather.
My contacts are dry from sleeping.

Fear of Summer

Summer and I have been at odds with each other for as long as I can remember. 

When I think of summer, I think of fear.

I fear the change of pace.
I fear the detachment of others.
I fear people leaving.
I fear a lack of hectic schedules.
I fear feeling bored.
I fear feeling alone.
I fear unproductivity.  
I fear being distracted from God.
I fear the heat.

Beaches and oceans and seashells and swimsuits and beach bags and palm trees
do not come with fond memories for me.

Summer and I have been at odds with each other for as long as I can remember. 
I have found no soul who shares in my discomfort.
I am a lone wolf and rare seed.