For over a year I have dealt with this large lump on back, consuming my life like a parasite. Bitterness, cynicism, hatred (at points), hurt, pain, sorrow interfered with the way I lived my life, how I treated people, and how I viewed myself. When saying the Lord's prayer I didn't include "forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us". I didn't say that part of the Lord's prayer in church for a year. One year. Why? Because I didn't forgive those who trespassed against me. In August, I started saying that part of the Lord's prayer again. It felt incredible.
Instead I allowed the bitterness, the resentment, and pain I felt from the transgressions done toward me consume me. I learned a lot about forgiveness though. I knew I needed to forgive and believed it was a process I worked toward (and still do many times). But I also learned that forgiveness is something between me and God too. God forgave me for the things I did wrong, so who was I to withhold that forgiveness from someone else? I was aware I was being selfish. I am also aware God is selfless. So in the past year that I've been attempting to know God more, I've been trying to learn to let go. I've been learning to forgive like Him.
Don't get me wrong. It's hard. I don't forgive as often as I should. I say mean things. But I'm learning that by not forgiving I was creating a barrier between Jesus and myself. I'm so desperate for Him. I yearn for closeness with Christ. By not forgiving, by letting grudges and hurt fuel the way I treated people, I was not only failing to show His love to the people who need Him, but I was creating a wall between me and God.
Forgiving is about giving my pain to God. It's about saying, God, I mess up too. Forgiving is about letting go so Jesus can heal me, so he can make me new again. It's a process, but I would prefer to forgive those who have hurt me than to allow bitterness to consume me.And in turn, I'm finally really feeling the bulk of how incredible it feels to be forgiven by God.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
On a more positive note...
It is days like today that I feel reassured I'm in the right major. I cannot wait to teach all the time. Mentoring is going well, although, there are times I wish it would be going better. Teaching this semester has been interesting. I've learned a lot, as I foresee will continue. During summer training for the semester, I left feeling very prepared. My student one-on-one meetings went well, for the most part at the beginning of the semester. Once we got to Unit 2 though, I felt things going downhill. Maybe part of it had to do with the material. Maybe part was due to a change in groups. I still felt the students start pulling away, less-engaged, attendance has been down.
I spoke to a few students again about why their grades were dropping so drastically. Why weren't they coming to class? I got a few responses back. I'm so glad I approached the conversations the way I did. There is always more than one side to a story. Instead of assuming they didn't care about the class. Instead of assuming they were lazy, I searched for the root of the issue. If they weren't motivated, what was causing the loss in motivation? After these talks I had with my students, I feel so much more at ease. Maybe they're grades won't go up as I wish, but I felt like I was making a difference. Sometimes, it's nice just to know someone cares. I felt like they knew I cared. Yes, I want to teach because I live for those moments when those little brain connections finally form...when that light bulb finally goes off and 7x8 makes sense. I live for seeing a child improve on grammatical sentence structure. I cannot wait to make that academic difference in their lives (not just because the state tells me I have to follow standards). That isn't the only reason I look forward to teaching though. Sometimes the longer-lasting difference is on a more personal level. Sometimes a student needs to know you care instead. I hope to be THAT teacher one day. That no matter how challenging I am, no matter how many academic/learning barriers my students break through, they will know I didn't just care about my paycheck, but about who they become as a person.
P.S. I forgot to say, I passed Praxis a couple weeks ago. Math and Reading scores came back right away, but I had to wait on my writing score. Passed all three the first time around. Hallelujah!
I spoke to a few students again about why their grades were dropping so drastically. Why weren't they coming to class? I got a few responses back. I'm so glad I approached the conversations the way I did. There is always more than one side to a story. Instead of assuming they didn't care about the class. Instead of assuming they were lazy, I searched for the root of the issue. If they weren't motivated, what was causing the loss in motivation? After these talks I had with my students, I feel so much more at ease. Maybe they're grades won't go up as I wish, but I felt like I was making a difference. Sometimes, it's nice just to know someone cares. I felt like they knew I cared. Yes, I want to teach because I live for those moments when those little brain connections finally form...when that light bulb finally goes off and 7x8 makes sense. I live for seeing a child improve on grammatical sentence structure. I cannot wait to make that academic difference in their lives (not just because the state tells me I have to follow standards). That isn't the only reason I look forward to teaching though. Sometimes the longer-lasting difference is on a more personal level. Sometimes a student needs to know you care instead. I hope to be THAT teacher one day. That no matter how challenging I am, no matter how many academic/learning barriers my students break through, they will know I didn't just care about my paycheck, but about who they become as a person.
P.S. I forgot to say, I passed Praxis a couple weeks ago. Math and Reading scores came back right away, but I had to wait on my writing score. Passed all three the first time around. Hallelujah!
When Christianity stops being about loving Jesus
A young woman I know was talking to me the other day about some argument she had with a family member. During the conversation, she made the remark, "I'm not a Christian. I cuss, and drink, and have sex. So, no, I'm not a Christian. Definitely not a Christian." I was dumbfounded. I was hurt. I angry. And I was sorry. She had no idea.
My heart hurt. Literally. And still does. As a church we have painted an image of perfection being the necessity into this sacred club called "Christianity". Christianity to the world of many has become a club about not drinking, not swearing, going to church every Sunday, reading your Bible daily, not having sex before you're married, not being gay, etc. Christianity to her, and many others, has become a group with too many rules, that if not followed to a tee makes her unworthy of claiming Jesus. Society paints this image of Christians as well. Turn on TV, and any religion-centered joke is based off the cynicism developed by this negative view of Christians. There are points in my own walk with Christ that I am ashamed of calling myself a Christian because I don't live up to the standards this woman spoke of in her statement. Then I realized...
I became angry upon hearing her statement. Not angry with her, but with her family member who assumed those were necessary qualities. I became angry with me. I became angry with my church. I became angry with churches. And I became angry with anyone who claims themselves Christian because we aren't doing our job. Persecution instead of love angers me. This lead to my sorrow and feelings of regret/apologies. Jesus said,"34 A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. 35 By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." Last I checked, Jesus spent time with the poor, the weak, the "sinners" (aka the people who cursed, and drank, and had sex, and didn't go to temple). Jesus loved them. He didn't persecute them. Instead, we persecuted Him. He didn't exclude them from His love. He didn't exclude them. But we do.
She continued on with her story. We both went back to the task we were working on. But I wish I would have been able to stop and tell her how skewed her perception was. I wanted to apologize to her for the way she's been treated. I wanted to apologize to her for the way I've acted in the past. I wished I could have told her about this Jesus I love, about this Jesus who loves me. It isn't about religion or Christianity. Gandhi said, "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." My Jesus is about love. It's about working on a relationship that has ups and downs. It's a relationship where I break the rules more than I want to. It's a relationship where Jesus still loves me back. He doesn't shut me out like she's experienced from family members. He doesn't fail her. Instead, He loves her.
My heart hurt. Literally. And still does. As a church we have painted an image of perfection being the necessity into this sacred club called "Christianity". Christianity to the world of many has become a club about not drinking, not swearing, going to church every Sunday, reading your Bible daily, not having sex before you're married, not being gay, etc. Christianity to her, and many others, has become a group with too many rules, that if not followed to a tee makes her unworthy of claiming Jesus. Society paints this image of Christians as well. Turn on TV, and any religion-centered joke is based off the cynicism developed by this negative view of Christians. There are points in my own walk with Christ that I am ashamed of calling myself a Christian because I don't live up to the standards this woman spoke of in her statement. Then I realized...
I became angry upon hearing her statement. Not angry with her, but with her family member who assumed those were necessary qualities. I became angry with me. I became angry with my church. I became angry with churches. And I became angry with anyone who claims themselves Christian because we aren't doing our job. Persecution instead of love angers me. This lead to my sorrow and feelings of regret/apologies. Jesus said,"34 A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. 35 By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." Last I checked, Jesus spent time with the poor, the weak, the "sinners" (aka the people who cursed, and drank, and had sex, and didn't go to temple). Jesus loved them. He didn't persecute them. Instead, we persecuted Him. He didn't exclude them from His love. He didn't exclude them. But we do.
She continued on with her story. We both went back to the task we were working on. But I wish I would have been able to stop and tell her how skewed her perception was. I wanted to apologize to her for the way she's been treated. I wanted to apologize to her for the way I've acted in the past. I wished I could have told her about this Jesus I love, about this Jesus who loves me. It isn't about religion or Christianity. Gandhi said, "I like your Christ, I do not like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ." My Jesus is about love. It's about working on a relationship that has ups and downs. It's a relationship where I break the rules more than I want to. It's a relationship where Jesus still loves me back. He doesn't shut me out like she's experienced from family members. He doesn't fail her. Instead, He loves her.
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