"We are not our own"

"We are not our own: let not our reason nor our will, therefore, sway our plans and deeds. We are not our own: let us therefore not set it as our goal to seek what is expedient for us according to the flesh. We are not our own: in so far as we can, let us therefore forget ourselves and all that is ours. Conversely, we are God's: let us therefore live for him and die for him. We are God's: let his wisdom and will rule all our actions." --John Calvin

I spend a lot of my time thinking about myself. Whether it is in moments of reflection, in conversation, in the midst of teaching, or as I fall asleep, I have an uncanny ability to draw in all thoughts, actions, details that are not about myself and convert them in my mind so that they suddenly gravitate around me. A friend's schedule wouldn't allow her to hang out tonight? I am instantly reflecting on the ways I wish others would prioritize me more. There is a pile of dishes in the sink? I can feel my own exhaustion suddenly creeping up and think about how much I wish others would serve me and encourage me to rest. My class goes badly? I reflect on all the ways I am a personal failure at work or life and need comfort, mainly in the form of chocolate (and ideally not in the form of a plan to improve things for my students next time; they are not feeling as badly about it as I am). My roommate is sick? I am so thankful because this gives me a great opportunity to feel like I serve others well. (Sorry, Kate.) Someone posts photos to facebook? I realize that I do not have very many photos tagged of me that I did not put up, and determine that this probably means my friends do not like taking pictures of me, which must mean that I am unattractive. There you go. Now that's brutal honesty.

Laid out like that, it's pretty ridiculous. But in reality, it is the life I live in my head, day in and day out, and it is exhausting. In fact, it is much more exhausting a lot of the time than actually buckling down and caring for others, which is generally what I'm trying to avoid doing when I'm thinking about myself. This week my roommate was sick, and it forced me to realize how much I subjugate others' feelings and needs--even as I care for them--to my own agenda, and then see the ugliness of that, and then drive myself into a depressing self-loathing state, which, incidentally, is still focused on me. In the midst of all that, the most restful times of my day were in the evenings reading my Bible and praying, forcing myself to look outside of myself. I'm in the middle of reading through Isaiah and was struck in a new way this week by the intoxicating beauty God's love and pursuit of his sinful people in the midst of their fruitless pursuit of idols.

At the end of the day, my biggest idol is myself. And at the end of the day, my biggest rest from that is looking away from that to who God is, and remembering that I am his and not my own. I am part of this big, beautiful story that I often don't like (it includes washing dishes and caring for sick people and not getting the glory of any of it in the form of facebook photos), but which is so much more rich and full and deep and lovely once I'm in the midst of it than the stories I write and rewrite about myself.

As I end the school year and look forward to a summer of rest, it is tempting to feel that I deserve to write a story for these next few weeks that is all about myself. I am thankful that God consistently reminds me -- in the form of sick roommates, quotes in church bulletins, and the ever-addictive internet -- that the story I want to write is not his plan for me. I am thankful that he is continuing to teach my heart repentance andgive me a new vision for the life that is his and not my own.

Sweet Potatoes and Suitcases

Today was our last community service day of the year, and the last "academic" field trip we will take with our 8th graders. We went to the Boston Food Project, a local organization that, among other things, owns farm land and offers the opportunity for youth from the city to volunteer/be employed growing produce. We planted what will apparently become over 7,000 pounds of sweet potatoes; from my perspective, it appeared to be about five handfuls of weeds, but I guess that's the miracle of agriculture.

It was a fun and relaxing day, and I was proud of my students for their enthusiastic devotion to their work and their positive attitudes in spite of being out in the hot sun, being absolutely covered in dirt (I still have some under my finger nails), fighting off bugs and burst irrigation pipes and, as always, the general fear of being perceived as "uncool." They really are some of my favorite people to spend time with.

...which made me recall community service day this time last year, when I was with this same group of kids as a new substitute teacher supervising trash pickup along the Charles River. One of my students looked at me at lunch today and said, "Hey, Ms. Stuntz, weren't you the one who volunteered with us on community service day last year?" I said yes and quickly changed the subject, hoping what he was not remembering was that, in addition to trash, I encouraged them to lug an "abandoned" suitcase to the dumpster, only to find that it contained the sole earthly possessions of a nearby homeless man. (He, needless to say, was not pleased. Neither were the kids.)

We have two weeks left in school, and I'm at the point where I'm fearing that I haven't taught them anything all year. It helps to have moments like these to reflect that at least I have grown during this year. While we all ended the day sleepy, sweaty, and sunburned, I did not at any point in the day encourage theft.

And, at the end of the day, that's what counts.

Dear Boston

Dear Boston,

Today is our 1 year anniversary, and I thought I'd write you a note to commemorate this incredible year and to remind you of the significance of the date in case you'd forgotten. (Although, who am I kidding? You pride yourself on keeping track of all major events; heck, you even celebrate a tea party that happened hundreds of years ago! And Patriots' Day? What is Patriots' Day anyways? But that's another conversation for another time...)

While we have only officially been together for the past year, our relationship actually began when I was 15, although I didn't realize it at the time. In fact, I was completely turned off by you. You were cold, rude, rushed, and did I mention cold? It was hard for me to see beyond your rough exterior into your heart, and to be quite honest, it didn't help your case that my parents wanted me to like you; there was more than a little teenage rebellion going on in my animosity toward you. I spent as much time as I could trying to get away from you and finally succeeded, unaware of how much I would miss you once I was gone. But, to be fair, you did very little to help win me over at first. I mean, the Red Sox didn't start winning until after I'd left you. That didn't occur to you beforehand? I took it as a kind gesture and began speaking of you more fondly, but I didn't even consider getting back together with you until the Red Sox won again three years later. Then, I knew you were serious about making this work.

But let's not run away with ourselves: I don't want to say that this year with you has been all sunshine and roses. For example, there was that massive miscommunication we had about the month of April. You thought it was supposed to be winter when I had clearly indicated that I wanted it to be springtime. We've gotten that all sorted out now, though, and I honestly couldn't stay mad at you for long when I reflected on how many snow days you had lavished on me in December and January. (Seems like you learned your lesson from the Red Sox; winning a woman's heart earlier on is much easier than trying to make up for mistakes later!)

But in the end, Boston, I have to admit that I would not want to be with anyone else. You keep me on my toes: whether it's enjoying a snowstorm one day and a sunny 60-degree day the next; navigating the multiple (and, might I add, completely unmarked) intersections where three lanes of traffic suddenly merge into one; simultaneously cheering the Red Sox and cursing the Yankees, whether or not both teams are actually playing; or trying to decipher the dry humor of my favorite auto mechanic, there is never a dull moment with you. You provide me with endless entertainment, and virtually any type of food my little heart could desire (and I had no idea how often I would be letting you provide me with dinner this year, so that is definitely an aspect of our relationship for which I am thankful)! Most importantly, you make me feel like I can be myself. I never have to dress up to be with you (and, in fact, most people who spend time with you don't)! I can be loud and opinionated and sometimes painfully clueless about social norms, and you just make me feel like I fit right in.

While I'm not ready for any long-term, clearly-defined commitment, Boston, I think we may just have started down a long and beautiful road together. At the very least, I hope so. Here's to you, Boston! And here's to us. Happy anniversary!

Love,
Sarah

Good News and Teacher Appreciation

Two happy posts in one today:

1) My dad's MRI came back clean, which means no brain cancer, at least for now! I can't describe what a huge relief this is. At the same time, he is still experiencing all the symptoms which led the doctors to believe there might be brain cancer in the first place, and they now have no reason why. Symptoms minus the cancer is obviously the better scenario, but it is frustrating to live through severe pain and nausea without any idea what is causing them or way to alleviate the symptoms. If you could still pray that they would find what is causing these (especially the nausea) and be able to stop them, or at least diminish them, my family and I would be grateful. My dad's blog post on this is here.

2) This past week was teacher appreciation week, and, like in most areas, my school's philosophy was, "Why do a little when we could do a lot?" Every day, there were copious amounts of food from parents waiting for us in the teacher's office. Colombian fried cheese balls -- bunuelos -- were my favorite; basically, imagine something that tastes like a hush puppy but is the size of a baseball, and that's a buneulo. (Then try to imagine how my pants were fitting after eating 5 of these. On second thought, don't try to imagine that.)

In addition to all of the amazing food, there were flowers (which may be getting recycle for Mother's Day -- shhhhhh), massages, and a surprise trip out to dinner and the beach in a legitimate party bus, the likes of which I have only seen on MTV.

All of these made it an absolutely delightful week; everyone should get an "Insert-your-job-here Appreciation Week" because even though mine was completely over the top, it really does remind you that your work is important and valuable. On that note, however, one party was decidedly silent during Teacher Appreciation Week: our students. They were either unaware of the week (most likely) or, in typical teenage fashion, hesitant to engage in behavior that would make adults happy. But a few weeks before, they did write me fantastic letters to thank me for writing their high school recommendations. Granted, this was an assignment for another class, and granted, some of them were less than stellar, but a lot of them were very sweet and encouraging. My favorites, however, were the students who I believe genuinely intended to be sweet and encouraging, but have not yet fully mastered the art of giving a compliment.

Example A: "English class was great this year. I enjoyed myself in so many ways; even when you made your jokes that were supposed to make people laugh but they didn't. Just knowing you were trying to make our class better, I was already happy." I'm very thankful that my students give me points for effort in the humor deparatment. I'm even more thankful when they REMIND me that they are giving me points for effort, not success.

Example B: "You have worked so hard for us, and all of those students who don't realize it, one day, they will look back and feel horrible because you did everything you could for us." My mentor teacher and I laughed out loud when we read this. We think we should put it up as a banner in our office: "One day, they will look back and feel horrible." Good things to be encouraged by.

To all of you who don't get one, Happy Appreciation Week, and may you be appreciated in ways both as wonderful and as ironic as I have been this week. :)

Prayer Request

I just got back from the most wonderful, restful vacation, seeing friends I love, feeling sunshine and HEAT for the first time in what seems like FOREVER, getting long stretches of think-time while driving (I love driving), pausing from worries, sleeping in, recuperating. It was good. In spite of the peace of this vacation (or, more likely, because of it), I surprisingly haven't had a difficult time adjusting back to school this week, either, which has been a huge encouragement. Today was my last parent-teacher conferences of this year, and I was overwhelmed with what a blessing it is to get to be involved so intimately in the lives of my students and their families. It's humbling sometimes to step back and think about how much influence I have over these "people-in-the-making" (as my mentor teacher likes to call them; she says "middle schoolers aren't real people yet" which makes me smile.) But it's a huge privilege, and even on really bad days, I still really like my kids.

I say all that to say that there is so much that is good going on in my life right now that I am thankful for, and I wish I mentioned it more frequently before jumping into things that are hard in my life. But the truth is that right now, I am also very afraid. My dad's cancer may have come back; we don't know, but they are doing more tests. And I am scared--maybe even more scared than I was the first time around. Friends who read this (however occasionally), would you please pray that it would not come back? I believe that God is good and he will be care for us in this situation--whether that means the cancer has come back, or not--but my main desire is for my dad to be healed right now.

A more specific update on my dad is here at his blog. I probably won't be doing regular updates (they are somewhat exhausting), but I would really appreciate prayer for this in the meantime.

Reasons Why I Love the Bible Belt

If you are ever annoyed at the person tailing your car, but think God is calling you to be more patient, I have found the perfect solution! As I was driving into North Carolina, I saw what might be my favorite bumper sticker yet on the back of a truck. In tiny letters it said,

Do you follow Jesus this close?

I'm trying really hard not to comment on the misuse of an adverb (oops -- guess I failed), but I think it's incredible that we can not only tell off those annoying people who tailgate...we can witness while we do it!

In Virginia

I have been down in Charlottesville for the past few very busy days, and overwhelmingly it has been wonderful! While I definitely love (and probably overall prefer) living in Boston, I'm realizing that there is something important about leaving for awhile -- an ability to get a fresh perspective on things and the chance to transition in and out of my crazy work life so that I feel like I am not just a cog in some piece of machinery that keeps me moving whether or not I am well rested. Every time I have left the city, and especially every time I have left to head down South, I have felt this way. And so, in honor of that, and because I often spend a lot more time writing about things that make me unhappy and need to spend more time focusing on what I am thankful for, here is my list of the top 10 things I love about being in Charlottesville:

1) Springtime. It is a season here, not just a day.

2) Flowers that are blooming everywhere, and that I can enjoy without paying money for them in the grocery store. (This has been my replacement for spring in Boston, and it is good, but not quite the same.)

3) Driving all the way across town...in 20 minutes.

4) Seeing all of the pastel sundresses and pearls. This is actually strange because I did not appreciate this when I lived here; I couldn't ever pull off that look (let's be honest -- I love my sweatshirts). But it is very different taking it all in but feeling no need to participate in it. It's pretty and youthful and fun, even if it is at times overwhelming. (My friends are also maintaining that there are more attractive people in the South. I'm not ready to fully validate that thought, but it's an interesting theory...)

5) Great coffeeshops! There are not enough in Cambridge. Someone explain why, please?

6) Christian's pizza. I actually squeeled when I walked in the door. The poor man behind the counter did not know what to do with me.

7) Catching up with friends! This really should be #1. Every time I am down here, I am awed by how many people I know and love, and that so many of those people actually know and love me back, in spite of years and distance and how well they know me and how crazy I am. Very, very thankful for all those people.

8) Familiarity. I love Boston, but am not to the place where I feel like I know it like the back of my hand. Even almost a year later, I still feel "new" to Cambridge. I think it just takes time. But it is pleasant to walk/drive around a city that I have not been to in almost a year, and feel like I know exactly where I'm going, and five different ways to get there.

9) The Lawn. I never once got nostalgic for it while I was at UVA, but now that I'm back, it really is quite lovely.

10) Knowing I can always come back. I really don't see myself moving back here, but I know I could, and the thought occasionally crosses my mind. I also know I can always come visit. There will always be someone I love here, and that is a big blessing.