Remember

It’s the end of the day and as usual, I’m tired. My voice is tired and my patience is tired, as usual. And as usual, she gets up out of her seat when she should be sitting down, and as usual I remind her that she shouldn’t, and as usual she tells me to just wait - she’s doing something. And in a moment my patience is completely spent and the words flow out. The hot words, emptying out of a tired me, un-tempered by Patience which in now run completely dry. Hot words flowing freely, carried along by the river of Frustrations. I’m just so tired of being interrupted and so tired of being ignored and tired of saying and saying and saying and wasting my breath on ears that fall deaf to the patient reminders and this needs to stop and it needs to stop now and it needs to stop with you because I’m so tired of Never Seeing It Change. And finally I get a response and I see a reaction and I see the recognition of wrongdoing and it feels so good. Even as the words flow out I feel the tricklings of Regret seeping in to cool down my hot heart, but still I continue because finally, finally I have an audience.

When my tongue is finally stopped and she’s sitting meekly in her seat and they’re all sitting meekly in their seats, I turn away with a heart half-way Sorry for what just happened and it’s not two minutes later until I’m all Sorry. I was just the way I never want to be.

I call her to me and apologize, not for the words, but for the way. I tell her that no one should ever be with her the way I just was and that no one should ever speak to her the way I just did and that I am Sorry. And I can see that she, too, is Sorry. That she wants to remember to listen but that she just forgets when there’s something she wants more. And so we come up with a deal that from now on whenever she forgets I will remind her by simply saying, Remember? And now, whenever I say, Remember? I say it partially for her to remember that she wants to listen, and mostly for me to remember how I don’t want to be.

And with every Remember? I also remember the feel of her Forgiveness as she wraps her little arm around my neck and smiles out her sweetness and erases my wrongdoing from her heart. And every time, I’m so thankful for Forgiveness, and thankful that she reminds me to Remember.

Always. Unceasingly. In Everything.

When I was in Africa three years ago, I travelled for a month by car with a group of people through six different countries. To get from one place to the next, we were constantly covering a lot of ground in very little time. I remember how it was difficult to feel as though I were really there as we raced past countryside. Catching glimpses of African life through the windows of a vehicle felt more like watching a movie than living. In an attempt to capture the blur I was hurtling through, I had a friend put my camera on a setting that allowed me to snap pictures while in motion. I got a lot of pictures that way, but t's funny how looking back at them, I still feel a sense of disapointment of never feeling present during the snapshots of time when those pictures were taken.

Except.

Except I remember how I felt each time we stopped the vehicle. Gas or food or toilets called us to a halt every so often and I can still feel the wonder of stepping out into reality. My senses instantly made me acutely aware of my surroundings. I could see, I could hear, I could smell . . . I could feel the moment I was living. It filled me with awe. It felt wonderful.

So often I live my life inside a vehicle that blurs the moments I'm living into eachother until they are indecipherable. I find myself moving through the motion picture of my life, constantly propelled forward by what feels like an urgent necessity to always be somewhere I''m not. I want to enjoy and appreciate and feel what I'm living, but in the rush of day-to-day life, how can I do those things if I can't even see the moments as I live them? My life isn't divided into moments. It's divided into dates, and responsibilities, and obligations, and appointments, and deadlines: these are the placeholders of time. And they so often rob me of living fully in the present.

But I am discovering a secret.

I am discovering the moments.
I am discovering the moments by discovering God.
I am discovering God by learning to be thankful.

I've noticed lately that when God wants to so something in my life, it seems He comes at me from all angles with the same message. Lately my message from God is: be thankful. I am aware that I have many things to thankful for, but I usually leave it at that. God is teaching me to be thankful for specifics. It's amazing to name the blessings of life as they happen. I have begun to feel overwhelmed by the blessings. My heart is starting to overflow with God's goodness to me. Not because I can finally see how great my life is. No, but because I can finally see how great and apparent God's hand is in my life. I can finally see that I am never alone and that always He is with me. This past week I had the most usual, busy, stress-filled long day and walked home from work with my heart singing out, "God is here! God is here! He's really, really here with me now!"

The perspective of my life is changing. I have zoomed out of a close-up of myself, and zoomed into a close-up of the details of God's goodness. One by one, I see them as they happen. His goodness in the good, and His goodness in the bad. I've become thankful for things in my life that up until now haven't seemed good to me. Past and present, I'm coming to see His wisdom, sense His love, and feel the grace He supplies for the moments as I live them. I'm finally feeling the moments.

First Thessalonians five contains verses I've long thought were beautiful: Always rejoice, Unceasingly pray, In everything give thanks. Those always seemed like nice words I would like to live out. But how? These verses have been working in me lately, and I've come to notice that by becoming thankful in everything, I'm also becoming more joyful, and that by naming my thanks moment by moment, my life is becoming more of an unceasing prayer to my Father. Thankfulness is unlocking the key to the life these verses describe. Always, unceasingly and in everything can be pretty heavy demands. But I've come to see that they are our promises - rejoicing and praying and giving thanks: these things are the will of God in Christ for us! And not just sometimes for some things: always, unceasingly and in everything.

Give thanks to Him; bless His name!
For the Lord is good.
(Psalm 100:4-5)

Reflections

I crossed the street walking home from work one day last week and passed by a mother and her son having an afternoon snack together at a little table outside a padaria near my apartment. There they were, he, still in his school uniform and she, telling him something he needed to be doing just then. My eyes passing over the scene, and my ears catching the lilting sounds of Portuguese, prompted a brief inner conversation:

Mental me: Look! You live in Brazil!
Emotional me: It doesn’t feel like it.
Mental me: What does it feel like then?
Emotional me: Like life.

Just the other day someone asked me what I like best about living in Brazil. I had no answer. None. I started into answering and then stopped. As I admitted that I didn’t know, I found myself surprised.
What exactly do I like about living here? Well, there are a plethora of reasons. Now that I’ve given it some thought, I could answer it a single word. It’s the adventure that I like.

It’s the adventure of living in another language - learning it, discovering it and using it to survive. The adventure of finding my place in a place where at first I didn’t belong. It’s the adventure of building a life from scratch. It’s the adventure of meeting new people, hearing their stories, and letting that broaden the ways I look at the world. It’s the adventure of working a job I enjoy, where I’m forced to grow professionally and personally, where I’m surrounded by people I am happy to call my friends, and where I teach children who make work feel like play for a few hours every day. It’s the adventure of watching myself be changed inwardly and outwardly by a culture surrounding me, one so different from my own, and wondering who I will end up being after all this is done. And this year, especially, it’s the adventure of living alone.

I sometimes laugh at my last-year-self who cried about the life my this-year-self is now living. If there was one thing I never wanted to do, it was to strike it out on my own. I dreaded it. I love being with people. What could be good about living alone? And yet, I am now of the opinion that it’s been the best thing that could have happened at this point in my life. I’ve discovered so many things that I never knew, and never could have known had I not had this experience. The bliss of freedom, for one.

I must admit that the realization of freedom was a little intoxicating at first. I left work one day at the beginning of the year, wondering what I should do, and the thought struck me, “Wow, I can do whatever I want . . . all the time. Did I really cry about this?!” It was an easy adjustment after that. I distinctly remember times of being disappointed by people’s invitations to go and do things because I had already made plans with myself to do something else. Okay, so I did go a little overboard. But I put the freedom to good use, too. I made a list of things I wanted to accomplish, and promptly tore through most of it. In fact, it’s high time to make a new list. Life, I’m discovering, is a whole lot about discovering.

I’ve discovered a lot about me. I’ve discovered that I love to laugh at life even when no one is there to laugh along with me, that it’s still fun to dance in the living room all by myself, and that the thought of making myself delicious food at night can still keep me excited all day long. I’ve learned that food can taste delicious even though there is no one to share it with (but I still usually call someone up to tell them about it!). I’ve discovered that when no one is around to inspire me, I’m still inspired about life – I’m interested in learning and in living and in growing and in changing. There is so much I want to do and to become. Every day, I feel as though I’m racing myself to bedtime. I’ve discovered that there is not going to be enough time to do all I want to in life with all the interests that I have.

I’ve discovered a lot about people. I’ve taken to talking to a lot more people than I used to – people I meet as I’m out and about my day and people at work that I had never sat down to have a conversation with. Being on my own, I notice that people approach me to talk a lot more than they ever did before. I’ve discovered that people, no matter who they are, usually have something to give, and that I usually have something to give back. I’ve discovered that friends can be found in places I’d never looked before. And I’ve discovered that dear friends still manage to make life sweet even at a distance.

I’ve discovered a lot about God. I’ve discovered that He is always present - taking care of me as a loving Father and accompanying me through life as a kind Friend. I’m aware of Him in ways I can only be aware of Him because there is no one else beside me. And my awareness of Him has given Him opportunity to change my heart in ways I never imagined it could be changed. I’ve gotten to see Jesus more for who He really is, and not simply who I’ve been told He is. And He is beautiful. His unfailing heart of love for all people holds me in awe. The more I know Him, the more I want to know Him. And the more I wish everyone could know Him as I do.

What do I like best about my life in Brazil? It’s not any one thing. It’s like a kaleidoscope. There’s not a single color or a single shape that makes the fascinating image you see as you stare through the cylinder. All of the colors and shapes come together to make something beautiful for an instant. And with every turn of the kaleidoscope, new colors and new shapes form a new beauty. That’s what I like best. The kaleidoscope of the adventure of life. I like the discovery of all the things that make life beautiful today. Not just life in Brazil, but life itself.

My Newest Classroom Sign

The first student I showed it to it laughed and said, "I like it!". When the whole class saw it they said, "Did you make that Ms. Joy? It's beautiful!" My kids are so appreciative. :)

Why I Love What I Do

I was sick a couple weeks ago and missed a day and a half of school. Upon my return, my classroom envelope was brimming over with cards and drawings from the little dearhearts. I love the unbridled affection of seven year olds . . .

Dear Ms joy i love you
you stay in my heart
i'm sad why (because) you don't
come kiss and kiss.

Ms. Joy
I mis you very math (much)
a qiss
make corretas (corrections)
I love you

MS. JOY
I LOVE YOU AND YOU IS FANE (FINE)?

I LOVE WOU ! ! ! ! ! !

I love giou

HELLOW MS. JOY
YOU ARE FELING BERER WE ARE HEVEN FUN WE ARE MISSING YOU

. . . and, just think. This is who I get to spend five days out of every week with!

Combating the Cold

It’s so cold these days that I catch myself singing Christmas carols as I’m going about my business. Tonight as I waited for the city bus to arrive and take me home after a trip to São Paulo, I was feeling rather chilly as the frigid wind blew on me . . . despite the five top layers and two bottom layers, gloves and boots and I had on. And before I knew it, I was humming, “Baby, it’s cold outside”.

I know, I know, I’m Canadian and all. Don’t get me wrong: I love seasonal changes. Being Canadian, I’m partially dependant on all the feelings associated with the changing of seasons to sense that time is passing and that life is actually moving forward. Truth be told, I like cold weather. I like the crispness that’s in the air when the temperature drops. To me, there’s something comforting, even romantic, about all the things associated with fighting off the cold. The thought of pulling on sweaters and scarves and eating soup and drinking hot chocolate brings with it such a cozy feeling. Cold weather is a beautiful thing. I just like being able to escape it.

The problem is that although “the weather outside is frightful” here, so is the weather inside. The reality of winter where I live is that there’s no “but the fire is so delightful” part to the song. I wake every morning before my alarm clock, hot and toasty and weighed down by so many blankets that I have to work to turn myself over. And life feels pretty good. But it’s not long before I have to face the harsh reality that from the moment I set my foot on the floor until I crawl back under the blankets with my hot water bottle at night, I will be working to stay warm. At 6am, the battle is officially on.

I drink lots of tea, wear lots and lots of clothes, eat lots and lots and lots of food (I find that it’s hard to feel when your stomach becomes full through so many layers of clothes) and have ridiculously long, hot showers. To no avail. There are too many hours in the day, and I always end up spending some of them with white fingers and something like a stomach cramp from tensing myself up trying to stay warm.

It’s hard to concentrate on anything else. I’ve been telling people that I’ll be productive again in three months when all my efforts aren’t taken up with trying to separate myself from the all-encompassing cold that surrounds me. But alas, there is plenty of work to be done despite the cold. So, necessity is the mother of invention.

I’m quite pleased with my most recent solution. I’ve decided to bring my home life into the kitchen (except for sleeping and showering, which are already solutions in themselves). I’ve currently closed myself in by shutting the doors off to the rest of the house and I’ve opened the oven door and turned it on full blast. Let me tell you, indoor heating is a wonderful invention, even if it’s not done in the conventional way. Life seems live-able again. And besides, I only have to wait a month before I can escape to the warmth of summer in the true North, strong and free. It’s a pity the couch won’t fit in here, though.

Grocery Shopping

I love grocery shopping. I have a sneaky suspicion that I just love food. But no, come to think of it, I love all that grocery shopping entails. Reading labels. Comparing prices. Developing a pathway through the store. Discovering new products. Spending money. Getting inspired to make this food or that food. Buying myself a special treat. Or two. Or thr- alright, that's enough. I even love re-stocking the empty cupboards and fridge when I arrive home with a load of bags. Aaaaaah. Just thinking of it makes me haaaaappy!

When I'm on my bike, I try to make sure that I don't buy more than I should carry. Or at least, I will now. On one particular bike ride home from the grocery store I was overloaded, to say the least. And as I tried to maintain a very precarious balance between this and that side of me, it dawned on me that I was doing the exact type of thing that would make my mother worry about if she could see a snapshot of my life at that particular moment. The good thing is, God answers prayer. I kid you not: people and cars moved out of my pathway in miraculous fashion. As I finally reached my apartment I thought to myself, Well, it's too bad that worked out. Now I'll probably do it again. (Just kidding, Mom.)

When I go by foot or by bus, however, it's a whole different ball game, so to speak. A No Weight-Limit rule comes into effect and I'm allowed to get everything. This past month, I got on the bus and the money collector man asked me if I wanted help getting my things over the turnstyle. Yes, I certainly did. He lifted two bags over and was like, Woah. Then he lifted another, and another . . . and his surprise made me realize I really was carrying a decent amount of weight. So as I passed by a drugstore at the end of my bus ride, I decided to pop in and weigh myself with all my bags. I was carrying 21kg. A little less than half my weight. Now I don't wonder why I've got more muscle than I've ever had before. :)