Who determines my worth?

I have always struggled with the idea that I am "not good enough".

I know that I'm intelligent. I know that I have many talents. I know that I am capable of so many things. I know that I am independent, yet sometimes I rely on others. I am smart, but there is always something to learn. I am strong, but sometimes the weakness overtakes me.

But the "I'm not good enough" voice is always in the back of my head - whispering, yelling, echoing through my thoughts.

In school, I always had A's. When I got to my senior year, I decided I didn't want to try so hard. I wanted to enjoy my learning. There was one class that was SO HARD for me - AP Anatomy with Janet Williamson. For most of that class, I battled the "I'm not good enough". She helped me through that by telling me how great I really am.

Then I lost my dad. I lost one of my biggest supporters. I lost a person who constantly told me he believed in me and that no matter what I did, I would be great at it. That continues to push me to this day.

I have my mom. She supports me. But losing a parent, one of the only people who will tell you how much you mean to them even when you're failing…that makes things feel impossible sometimes.

I have had terrible relationships, as we all have. Each one of them has pointed out some kind of flaw that I have. I have to find the person who loves every one of my flaws. Instead, I find the ones who point them out. Each time, I crawl back a little farther into my hole.

I went to college. I graduated. I got a degree. I couldn't get a job in the field that I thought I was meant for. After lots of prayer, I realized my calling was teaching. I enrolled in graduate school. While I was doing that, I started substitute teaching. As a sub, I always felt like people talked down to me because I was "just a sub". Then I got hired!! I got to work at an amazing school with an amazing [work] family. Then I was sometimes made to feel like I wasn't good enough because I was "just an aide". Then I got to leave the Elementary and go student teach at a high school. Then I was made to feel like I wasn't good enough because I was "just a student teacher".

Then I officially got my certification. I spent a summer searching for jobs and constantly getting turned down or receiving nothing at all. I felt more defeated during that summer that I can remember feeling in a long time. Two days after I applied for my current job, I got an interview. Two days after my interview, I got the job offer. I felt "good enough" for the first time in a long time.

Then the year started and I became "just a first year teacher" to some. This is when I realized that I will always seem like "less than" to someone.

There will always be someone
     smarter
          faster
               more experienced
                    stronger
                         better.

I have achieved SO MANY things. I should be SO PROUD of myself. I think losing one of my biggest supporters has been a huge reason for this constant feeling of "not enough". I'm caught in this downward spiral of achieving something amazing and then finding something else that I need to make better. I need to be in the moment. I need to be satisfied. I need to allow myself to feel accomplished and proud.

I don't say any of this looking for attention or affection or affirmation. I say this because if it is something that I struggle with to this extent, someone - somewhere - struggles with the same thing.

One of my favorite quotes is:

"Your value does not decrease based on someone's inability to see your worth."

However, regardless of anyone's opinion of you, it is important to remember just how valuable you are.

"For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." Ephesians 2:10

You make me brave.

I couldn't breathe. The tears wouldn't stop. My mind spun in circles like a windmill, powered by a never-ending force. Anxiety has the ability to control my life. It's not something I like, and it's not something I'm proud of. But it's something I know to be true and it's something I have had to learn to live with.

"When it rains, it pours."

MAN has that been proven true in my life. Sometimes my life is chugging along- a force to be reckoned with. Then, all of a sudden, something falls. Everything else dominoes behind it.

My flaw:

• When all the pieces of my life are falling into place, I feel at peace. I am strong, I am confident, I am powerful. The Lord is on my side and I can feel his presence. Nothing can get in my way.

• …Until something gets in the way. Those pieces that fit together so flawlessly are suddenly tearing apart. One thing after another goes wrong. My life seems to be defined by a single word: malfunction. Suddenly, I am weak, I am vulnerable, I am helpless. I don't feel God near me. I feel alone and scared and I don't want to fight.

The last several days have been a true test for me. My anxiety surfaced with a vengeance after another "domino effect". I found myself curled up on the floor crying out to someone, something. But this time, I didn't know what I was crying out for. The feelings surging through my body were those of desolation and uncertainty. Had I chosen the right path for my life? Was it even my choice? Was I listening and following or was I searching and leading? In my life, I have always felt for The Lord's outstretched arms in my times of trouble. I have always found peace in Him. I can call out His name and this calm rushes over my body. But not this time.

This time, I could feel nothing. I could think nothing. I wanted… nothing. I was scared, truly scared. Even when my father took his own life, I didn't question my god. I didn't ask him why He would put me through this or why He would let my dad make this decision. I relied on my faith. I knew that there was something more; I knew this would be a part of my life, His plan.

But as I was curled up on my bedroom floor resting in a puddle of tears, I didn't feel that. I didn't feel His presence. I didn't feel His arms comfort me. I questioned Him - out loud. He was obviously not there for me. I obviously didn't choose the path He wanted for me because if I had, I wouldn't be hurdling all these obstacles. I know this is absurd, being in my right mind. But at that moment, nothing was right.

We are not only the body of Christ; we are Christ's physical body. We are His hands that touch others' lives. We are His feet that walk this earth to spread His word. We are His eyes that see the good in this world and in others. I reached out to someone, a part of Christ's body, that I knew would help shine a light and lead me out of the darkness. We went to church last night- to worship, to listen, to reflect, and to hear The Lord speak through someone. It was everything I needed.

The Lord suffers when we suffer. He is our father and he does not wish pain upon us. He is a gracious God, extending his love to us. It is up to us to receive it. As I sang to The Lord, lifting my hands to Him, I felt Him enter my body. I felt His arms wrap around me. I heard the words flow through my spirit.

You make me brave. You call me out beyond the shore into the waves. You make me brave. No fear can hinder now the promises you've made. I was sitting on the shore and He called me out into the waves, into all the things that were falling down around me. I had to be brave, as He has made me, and persevere through the powerful waves crashing into me. I need to use the strength that He has given me, the wisdom He has given me, the will He has given me. When I get through these waves and pass through to the calm seas, I will be stronger in Him.

I will let go of my fears, for He has promised provision. I will let go of my anxieties, for He has promised me comfort. I will let go of my feelings of loneliness, for he Has promised me love. While these waves crash around me, I will hold fast to His promises and trust in Him.

Time.

Fast and slow.

The hand moves around the clock.
Tick tock. Tick tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.

One moment here.
The next, gone.
Time passes like a breeze
through the trees.
Quietly.
Distant memories.

Like yesterday.
Like ten years past.
The blink of an eye,
the turn of a page.
Over.
A brand new day.

The sun rises.
Eyes open.
The new day begins.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
Quicker, time passes,
No longer molasses.

Like tomorrow.
Like future dreams.
The brush of a hand,
the rush of a kiss.
Hope,
For all new memories.

Metamorphosis

It was a blazing hot day back in 2009. The truck was loaded up with all of my belongings that I would need for college. Dorm supplies filled the trunk of my car and tissues filled the pockets of my mother's shorts, heaven forbid I be away from her for more than one day. (Love you, Mom.)

I walked into this giant building bustling with people: students, siblings, parents, grandparents. I entered my new home, a small room with two beds and a wall lined with shelves and two desks. On the opposite wall were two small closets, a tiny sink, and a door leading to the suite through the bathroom. There, I met my two new suite-mates. We unloaded my life into my little room, and then Mom and Robert took me shopping for the essentials: groceries that could be eaten in a dorm room, a shower head that would actually spray more than a cup of water per minute, and cleaning supplies because I was going to "clean every weekend".

Mom and Robert went back home and college started. My roommate and my suite-mates joined me at a party. I remember walking around with all of these people that I didn't know and thinking, "Ah, college. This is my life now". Little did I know, I was going to be an Art Major. I had no life. I spent late nights in the common area with the other Arty Fartsies doing our homework and our projects. It was the pits.

I realized I didn't belong in the Art Department, so I changed my major. Then, I got to have a "college life". We went to parties, we took trips, we stayed up past our bed times. It was joyous. (We also paid the price with dark circles under our eyes, mornings hunched over toilets, and full days of wearing sunglasses and headphones to muffle the noises and dim the lights.)

It didn't change much when I moved into my new apartment. We had parties at our place, met lots of new people, and went on adventures. The most memorable one is probably when we tried to venture to Walmart to get groceries during the Icepocolypse of 2011. A week cooped up inside was far too long. Carson drove her jeep and we got stuck on Bonnie Brae about a block from the complex. We ended up pushing the jeep across the street into the Women's Center parking lot BY OURSELVES as men drove by and waved. Four girls in pretty colored scarves, gloves, and rain boots slipping and sliding on the ice as they push a jeep. You can imagine, I'm sure. So we trekked back, stopping at the gas station for as many "creative items" as we could to try to prepare a meal together.

Basically, we ate Cheetos and candy for a week...

Throughout the next year or so, I enjoyed (for the most) the life of a typical college kid. Then things started to change. Things inside of me. I grew up, for some unknown reason, and didn't want to go to the bars. I didn't want to go to parties. I liked hanging out with my friends, but I didn't want to do the "college things" I did before. My life became homework, dinner with friends, a night out dancing and playing pool at Red River, having game nights at the house. I was absolutely content with it. It became my life. I had amazing friends that were always there for me when I needed them. I also had the friends that were not there anymore because I was not at the bars and the parties that they were at.

Why do we have a "college phase"? I hear people say "I don't do the bar thing anymore" all the time. Shoot, I've said it too. I like going to get some drinks with friends every once in a while. I like going and listening to live music. But, I'm not a fan of these overly crowded places filled with smoke and drunks. Is there a switch inside of us that gets flipped? Honestly, I miss the spontaneous, free, do-what-I-want times. But, then again, I love the relaxing, quiet, watch-a-movie-at-home times.

Now my life is grading papers, making lesson plans, rubbing icy hot on my neck and shoulders, and going to happy hour with my coworkers after a long day. And even on those happy-hour days, I'm home and in bed before late. When I think about it, sometimes I feel so old. I feel alone. I miss going out with my friends and staying up late. I miss feeling over-scheduled with fun things. I don't get the invitations like I used to. I guess people "know" what I'm doing already. I like coming home from work and putting on my sweats, laying on the couch, vegging out for a few minutes, and letting my mind slow down. I like the occasional night out, too.

Growing up is a strange thing. Suddenly, you have all of these responsibilities to remember. You have to pay bills, you have to go to work to get money to pay the bills, you have to monitor the bank account that has the money you use to pay your bills. Can you tell I have lots of bills?

You watch your friends move away and get jobs, or get married, or have kids. And you sit back, watching your life change, and wonder what's next. I feel like my life has become very mundane. I'm taking huge steps for my life. I know that. But I still feel like I'm running and running and running, but I can't catch up to where I want to be. I miss "the old days". (Yeah, yeah. My old days weren't that long ago. Blah blah blah. I've heard it before.) I want to try to find a balance. I want some of the old days and some of the new days to come.

I just watched my best friend bring a baby into the world. It's crazy. We used to have spontaneous adventures, go to random concerts, meet for a random happy hour because…we "needed it". Those days are going to be much fewer and further between; I'm okay with that. Now our days will be something much different. Maybe wine in the living room while baby snores in the room next to us. But I can't help but wonder when I'll "catch up" to my friends. Their lives have slowed down because of jobs, husbands, children. I don't need any of those right now. But it would be nice to see that I'm on the path to that. Right now, I'm in limbo. I'm in between. And I'm hanging on for this wild (not-so-wild) ride.

Not goodbye; just see you later.

I have been surround by and lifted up by so much support this last week. My heart is overflowing. That's probably why this watery stuff has been coming out of my eyes all day. There's just nowhere left for it to go.

It's strange to say that it feels good that everyone is so sad to see me go, but it does! I had never felt wanted and accepted the way that my Rockbrook Bears made me feel. To walk in every morning to a "good morning" and a smile, to be greeted by littles and bigs alike with giant hugs and "I missed you"s, there is nothing quite like it. Walking through that building today was so surreal.

The idea of not coming back to wander those halls is heartbreaking. Not having to walk from my far corner of the building to the lounge 100 times a day makes me sad. Not getting to go down the hall to Mary and Becky's room or to stop by Staci's for some coffee and BioFreeze makes me sad. Not being able to walk in to Diane's smile every morning makes me not want to leave. I will miss SO many things about this family and this home.

I know it's a new chapter, but in all honestly, it feels more like a new book. I don't want to put this book down. It has made me feel emotions I never thought I could feel. It has made me think in ways that I have never thought before. It has caused me to solve problems that I never wanted to face. This book has been the best one I've read so far. I won't put it down for long. I'll set it safely on my shelf so that I can turn to it when I need a good reminder of what a family, a cohesive staff, a friend, a good teacher, or a partner in crime looks like. I'll turn to it when I need to remember why I have chosen this life. I will turn to it when I need to see the differences I have already made in some students' lives so that I can be pushed to make it happen again and again.

I have been blessed with great jobs and wonderful friendships over the years. Some of my best friends are people I met through a job. So here I am, once again, facing reality. I have to leave. Things have to change.

Two years ago, when I decided to start substitute teaching and pursuing my secondary certification and Masters of Education, I could have never dreamed of what life had in store for me. I worked at so many schools. I fell in love with school environments, faculty, and students. I had created these relationships and these bonds that I cherished. I spent most of my time among two elementary schools and one high school. I loved being at the high school because, ultimately, that's where I wanted to end up. But these two elementary schools had a special place in my heart.

I had formed bonds with the students in these schools. They made me smile every day; they hugged me as I passed in the hallways; they would yell out "hey Ms. Miller!!" as I passed by. There were even kids that knew my name who, I'm pretty sure, I had never met! What could possibly make you feel more special than being wanted and being loved. I applied for a position at one of the elementary schools and, stupidly, placed all of my hope in that idea. When it fell through, I was so disappointed. I had begun to build up that idea in my head: what it would be like to stay at that school every day with the teachers and the students I had grown so close to.

The day after I found out I did not get that job, I walked into the other elementary school to substitute for the day. I was very frustrated and let down that the job had fallen through. As I walked through the office doors that morning, the principal stopped me and asked to speak to me. The tone in her voice kind of freaked me out. I'm not a mean teacher, but I don't put up with any crap. So when she pulled me aside, I thought for sure I had done something wrong.

She offered me a job….

I accepted on the spot. There was no question. I would get to be at the other school that I had fallen in love with. They made me feel like a family every time I walked in the doors. Things moved so quickly from there. I was placed with teachers to help get me started, I attended trainings, I became part of a team (technically two teams). I fell in love with the staff. I felt like I had a family in that building every morning when I walked in. My students were my special little ducklings. I took care of them, I loved them, I strived for nothing but the best for them.

So here I sit, over a year later, looking back at how wonderful things have been. I have made so many amazing friends. I have learned so many valuable skills. I have created some incredible memories that I could never let go of.

Tonight my heart is overflowing with joy and sadness.

I love you, Rockbrook Bears. I'm so very excited for my new journey. But just remember: once a Bear, always a Bear!

Christmas is here.

The holidays are upon us once again. I love the holiday season!
I love the smell of pumpkin and cinnamon.
I love the naked trees, still so full of life when the wind blows and their branches sway.
I love the smell of a fire drifting from a family's fireplace.
I love the cheer that fills peoples' hearts.
Christmas brings out such wonderful things.

But I hate the holidays.
I remember how much I miss the smell of Dad's Skoal Wintergreen Long Cut.
I miss watching Christmas movies with him.
I miss him building a fire and passing the burden of keeping it alive on to the rest of us.
I miss the cheer that filled my heart.
Christmas brings out the pain in my heart.

When everything starts to get turned inside out and upside down and right side up and outside in, my brain begins to wander to some dark places. I try to walk out of it, but without the flashlight in my hand, I begin to trip over some thoughts. This is what I tripped on today:

I am not a person who deals well with change. However, 6 years ago, my life changed forever. I am still trying to learn how to adjust. Everything changed: the person I share my burdens with, my career path, the way we spend our holidays. So, every year when the holidays come back around, I am initially filled with such excitement. And it slowly starts to drain.

I wish I could stand like a tree. I wish I could dig my roots deep into the soil and not move. I wish I could sway gracefully back and forth with the wind. I wish that I had a season where all of my dead leaves, my burdens, my troubles, my anxieties, would fall to the ground and blow away.
A tree stands tall, living off of the only things it needs- nourishment from the soil and water.
It does not want more than it is given; The Lord provides for it.
It does not stop breathing when its leaves fall to the ground; it thrives.
It doesn't topple in the powerful winds; it demonstrates its flexibility.
I want to stand tall, living off of what I need- The Lord's nourishment for my soul.
I want to flourish with what I'm given; The Lord provides for me.
I want to be flexible, knowing that I will not fall.
I wish I could be like a tree, firm in what I know.

As a child, you are told what to do and when to do it. As a young adult, you're still often told what to do and when to do it. However, you're offered a little more flexibility in your decisions. As an adult, you make your decisions. You are raised to be a thinker, to weigh the consequences in decision-making. It is only fair that you get to make your choices as an adult. Unfortunately, you also face your consequences.

Growing up, I was taught that "the choices you make today affect the choices you can and cannot make tomorrow". I have lived this, as well. I have made some choices that have affected me greatly. I have learned a lot of lessons; most of them the hard way. I have lost some friendships and some relationships- those have been both choices and consequences. Life constantly changes and I get caught up in the whirlwind, losing sight of where my roots should be planted. That's when my vision becomes blurry and I begin to make decisions for the wrong reasons.

No longer. My decisions will be made based on what I know, what I believe. My decisions will be just that- MY decisions. Those who get in the way and try to to blow me down with their powerful winds should know that I have my roots planted firmly in the ground, in The Word. You can hurt my feelings, but you can't hurt my heart that is held tightly in the hands of The Lord. You can push me away, but you can't push me off the edge. You can watch my leaves fall, but I don't want you there to pick them up.

This holiday season, I will not be knocked down. I will not let the dark corridor of thoughts and emotions be my path. I will break through to an open path; one lined with memories, family, friends. I am excited to celebrate Christmas for what it is- the birth of my Lord and Savior. I will sit alongside my family and celebrate the freedom we have through Christ. I will not be dragged down, but rather, I will lift Him up.

A Sad Goodbye

I received some heartbreaking news this evening: my fifth grade teacher passed away last week.

For some people, this would be sad simply because it's a death. Death is a sad thing. You know other people are hurting because they have lost a loved one, therefore you feel empathy. But this is so much more than that. This woman is part of the reason I want to be a teacher.

At the time, she did so much for me. But as an adult, looking back, I can see how incredible she was and how much she taught me!

You see, many students thought she was so mean. But the ones who knew her saw how great she was. She was a teacher who had expectations and demanded that you meet them. She didn't tolerate disrespect. She had rules in her classroom...and the rules applied to everyone, not just the students she liked the least. She treated everyone the same. (Kind of sounds like my classroom...)

Until one day...

Fifth grade was my absolute WORST year. (socially speaking) Fifth grade girls are vicious and caddy. I was left out of things, cut out of friendships, pushed out of conversations, ...you name it. I hated school. I hated life. I didn't want to be there. For a little girl who loved to learn, that was a big problem.

Ola Reed showed me love when I needed it the most. She showed me compassion when I felt like nobody cared about me. She made me want to be at school. She stopped others from mistreating me and even dished it back to them once. **Once to my knowledge. If she did this in front of me, who knows how many times she did it! If I'm being honest, I'm hoping many times!** I will never forget the look on my "friends'" faces when she started childishly pointing and laughing at them from across the room.

"How does that feel?" she asked them. "How does it feel to have someone laughing at you, talking about you, not knowing what they're saying?! It doesn't feel good, does it? Why would you want to make someone else feel that way? You need to think about how your actions affect others."

Here I am, teaching fifth graders. Here I am, watching fifth grade girls (and boys) relentlessly torture each other. Here I am, listening to mean comments whispered behind backs. And I hear Ms. Reed..."why would you want to make someone else feel that way?!...think about how your actions affect others." I get to sit down with my students when they are hurting or angry and I get to work through their feelings with them. It's something that I understand all too well. It's something that I would not have survived if it weren't for Ms. Reed.

With a heavy heart, I will travel to the church for her memorial service tomorrow morning. With tears in my eyes, I will watch her family say goodbye, for I have walked down that road before. But I rejoice at the opportunity to have known such an amazing woman. I am hopeful that one day, I can touch someone's life the way she touched mine. They say you have to truly be passionate about teaching if that's the career you choose - she was. And she will continue to inspire me and fuel my passion for years to come.

Rest in peace, Ms. Reed. I look forward to seeing you again and thanking you once again for all you have done in my life.