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.

Why are you single?

So, I got asked this annoying question again the other day: "Why are you single?"

First of all, he was a creep. And he said it in a very creepy, suggestive way. So I grabbed my $10 engagement ring out of my pocket and nonchalantly slipped it on my finger and told him "I'm not" as I continued to lift my drink with my ring finger conveniently placed in the front. But as he walked away, I really began to think about the answer.

The answer is simple. I have standards. People say that if you have low expectations, you won't be disappointed. And yes, this can be true. But in regards to relationships, I look at this very differently.

I was taught to have very high expectations of a man; Daddy said I deserve the best. Daddy was right. I have had incredible marriages modeled for me in my life: my grandparents, my sister and her husband, my mother and father. I have watched them love, I have watched them bend but not break, I have watched them grow, I have watched them worship. I have been fortunate enough to see loving marriages flourish in front of me. I have high standards when it comes to what I want in a life partner, a husband, a father to my children.

You see, if you set your expectations low, you will absolutely be disappointed. You will settle for someone that is not worthy of you. You deserve the absolute best. You deserve someone who loves all of you, forever. You deserve someone who knows your flaws and loves you because of them. You deserve someone who knows your weakness and builds you up when you're facing them. When you set your expectations low, you do not get that.

When you allow yourself to be with someone who simply meets your lowest standards, you may receive instant satisfaction in those shallow relationships. Perhaps that's why you settle for them. They bring you a sense of hope [though it's false hope]. But eventually that hope fades away and you are faced with another disappointment. No matter how big or how small, those disappointments will wear on your heart. One after another, they chip away at your heart; little pieces begin to fall. When that man, the one who loves everything about you, every part of you, every flaw, comes along, your shattered heart will be there unable to mend itself. It will be expecting the same thing, waiting for another piece to be torn away.

BUT when you allow yourself to only be with those who exceed your highest expectations, you will receive long-lasting satisfaction. Yes, you will face many, many disappointments and a lot of heartache. But is it not worth having life-long satisfaction with someone who loves you and supports you?

It's like a diet: Hello, coming from me, this is a huge analogy. I hate diets. They are so hard to stick to. But when you want to accomplish something, really accomplish something, you do it! You're down 30 lbs. You only have to lose 5 more to reach your goal. Do you eat the chocolate cake or do you suck it up and eat some fat-free yogurt and go for a walk with your dog?! YOU HAVE TWO WEEKS LEFT FOR YOUR DIET. DON'T RUIN IT NOW!

Do you settle for the really cute guy with the mediocre job that compliments you on your eyes and smile, but only texts you a few days a week and has other girls posting all over his Facebook? Or do you wait for the one who actively pursues you and shows you with his actions and his words that he is worthy of you, he is someone who deserves you? And equally that you deserve him?

I say this all to "you", though I'm also speaking for myself. This is something I have been struggling with for the last few years. I settle. It's not for very long, because I receive a little (although, usually not so little) reminder from the man upstairs. Sometimes, it takes a nudge; sometimes it takes a shove- off a cliff. Those relationships are short-lived and I am SO INCREDIBLY thankful for that. I guess I just needed this creep to ask me why I was single to remind me that I have a very good reason for it:  I have standards, and I haven't met a man that has met them yet.

Dream a Little Dream

I woke up this morning with a feeling of emptiness. There was a sadness so deep inside of me that I didn't know how to fix it. 

And the worst part was, I didn't know where it came from. 

For the life of me, I couldn't recall anything from my dream. I didn't know who was in it. I didn't know what they said to me. I didn't know any details of what had happened. I didn't know why my heart was so broken. All I knew was that it was.

How can a dream affect our heart so vividly when our brain has no recollection? Don't the two usually go hand-in-hand. It seems that in my life, when I have been the most emotionally damaged, it is because I am constantly milling over the details. My heart is broken in two because my mind won't let my heart heal.

So what blade could have been so sharp that it could pierce my heart but not even graze my mind?!

I went on with my morning. I took my shower, I dried my hair, I put on my makeup and got dressed for the day. My heart continued to beat, despite the feeling of shallowness in my chest. I drove to work, weaved through the traffic, and parked in my usual parking spot. But it was far from routine. The music that played had no meaning. It had no feeling. My heart continued to beat, though the music didn't change its rhythm as it usually does. 

My students greeted me in the hallway, other children smiled and gave me their warm hugs on the way to the cafeteria, as always. It helped. I smiled. Then as they walked away, my brief feeling of joy floated away with them. 

What was happening? How could a dream melt away my happiness? Where was my joy?

I've heard that when you smile, you trick your brain into thinking you're happy. (Or some nonsense like that.) I don't know if it's true, but I told one of my students that the other day when he was having a really rough time and I thought, "Well, crap. I guess now I have to try it….". I put on my big girl smile and walked around all day. I laughed with everyone and talked with everyone like normal. I really was happy…when I was with people.

But, the moment that I was alone, that darkness crept in like a drifting fog. It covered every crevice, every thought in my mind. It was paralyzing. I couldn't see past it. And then, just when I thought I saw a clearing in the thickening fog, I realized it was even darker patches, darker emotions. All of a sudden, Dad popped into my mind. He always seems to appear when I can't handle any more and then I start to stumble backwards. It's as if I want to walk away, turn around, hide from him. I can't see him, I don't want to see him, I can't take any more hurt.

But maybe it's not that I can't handle any more; maybe it's that he's there to walk me out of the fog. He's there to grab my hand and lead me out. Not to push me back in.

My dad was the one I talked to when things were hard, when I needed someone to lean on. It wasn't that my mother couldn't be there for me; my mother couldn't be there for me in the same way. My mom and my brother were similar; my dad and I were similar. It's an analogy (says the former-journalist-turned-teacher) :

Mom : Kyle :: Dad : Allison

ANYWAY, I sat in silence for a little while longer with my memories of Dad; the memories in my mind were of our conversations, strangely. I think there was a reason for it. I remember him saying things like, "It doesn't matter what you do as long as you do it", and "a mistake is only a mistake the first time you make it; then it becomes a choice", and "I don't give a rat's ass". That last one wasn't really important, I just really miss hearing him say it!

The point is, they were all things I really needed to hear. After those conversation "bits" flooded through my mind, those emotions just disappeared. It was almost as if my dream was locked away in some back closet in my brain and my dad had the key. And, boy, as soon as he unlocked it, that dream SHOT out of their like a "bat outta hell" (as my father used to say). P.S. My father didn't use a lot of profanity. It sure sounds like it from what I've said in the last two paragraphs, but he really didn't. He mostly said things like "Jiminy Cricket!" and "Doggone" instead, which always made me giggle. 

It amazes me how much a dream (INTERRUPTION: see definition below)

…as I was saying…It amazes me how much a dream, a vision, can affect our emotions. Something can happen in a dream with another person and we can wake up with legitimate anger toward them when nothing happened between us in real life! For us grudge holders that are working on letting things go, that is dangerous! But heartbreak is even more difficult. That's something that is hard to handle on a daily basis. How do you handle it when you don't know what broke your heart?

Well, there's one thing that can mend it no matter what broke it! I thank God for His mercy and grace and cling to it every day. "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. He determines the number of stars and calls them each by name. Great is our Lord and mighty in power; His understanding has no limit." Psalm 147: 3-5

Suicide Prevention Awareness

As Suicide Prevention Awareness Month comes to an end, I decided to take some time to reflect.

For those of you who know me, you know that his time of the year is especially hard for me. This year will be five years (pause for shock) since my father took his own life. Five years. Sometimes it seems like an eternity ago and sometimes it seems like just yesterday.

I don't think that it is ever okay to end your own life. Your life has a purpose. Unfortunately, sometimes  your view is clouded and you are unable to see your purpose or you think you don't have one. Sometimes you think that you aren't loved. Sometimes you think that you are a burden on others' lives. Sometimes you think that you don't belong here and that you don't fit in. Or you think that you have screwed up so bad that there's no way you can fix things. Maybe you think that there's only one way out.

This is not the truth.

-You are loved. Even if you have no earthly family left, you have a heavenly Father that loves you more than I can begin to express to you. You have brothers and sisters in Christ that would extend a love to you that you can't imagine. Walk into a church. Ask for help. (Ask for help anywhere, not just a church. There are hotlines, websites, anonymous websites, etc.. A church is just a wonderful place to meet people who will extend a welcome hand.)

-You are not a burden on anyone. You are a blessing. My father thought that he was a burden on everyone because he was disabled. He had no idea how much of a blessing he was. He had no idea how many lives he touched each and every day. You have an impact on the people you meet.

-You do belong here. You do fit in. You have a purpose on this earth. None of us know what our purpose is and none of us know quite where we belong or what we are supposed to do just yet. We are all struggling to fit in. You are not alone.

Speaking as someone who was left behind, the daughter of someone who put a bullet in their own head because they thought they weren't worthy of being on this earth, when you take your life, you leave behind people who love you. They are left to grieve and mourn and to cry. And every year, when that day rolls back around, they remember what you did. They remember how you felt about yourself when you did it.

The hardest part about knowing that he took his own life is knowing that he was unhappy when he left. He didn't die peacefully in his sleep. He died scared, alone, sad. Feeling like he didn't belong.

The idea of anyone ever having to go through this breaks my heart. But this is where it becomes a good thing. This is where I can get involved. This is where I can jump in and use my experience to help others. No one should ever have to feel what my father felt. No one should have to go through what I went through. We can prevent these kinds of things from happening.

CUE THE MUSIC. **Suicide Prevention Awareness Month** END THE MUSIC

There are wonderful websites with information about how to notice warning signs of depression and suicide, how to prevent it, who to call, etc. If you ever notice anything, take action. There were red flags with my father and I didn't notice them. Granted, I was young and he had a lot of other issues going on in his life that could have contributed, but I didn't pay close enough attention. I don't blame myself, and you never should either, but when we work together, we can save lives and mend hearts.

Suicide hotline:
http://suicidehotlines.com/texas.html

Suicide information
http://www.save.org

http://www.cdc.gov/violenceprevention/suicide/

Danger signs of suicide:
http://www.save.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=home.viewpage&page_id=705f4071-99a7-f3f5-e2a64a5a8beaadd8