I've noticed a pattern as to why people leave church- people were either not loved at church, received too much human love, and somehow in the process never searched and saw the unforgettable love God brings.

1. Not loved at church

I knew this kid at youth group who tried to be Mr. Cool. He'd dance around at church during worship, would try to make jokes in the sermon like the cool kids did, and would stalk the high school leaders. But it was clear that the church goers were too focused on being "cool" and loving the loveable that they forget about the people who need to be loved the most. That kid became addicted to drugs and happily condemns all things related to religion. Given his experience, why would he do otherwise?

What about my friend who was popular at church until he came out as gay? People gossiped and threw their stones at him. He's nowhere to be found at church now. Who can blame him when sinners ignore their sin and point at sin that they don't understand?

I had another friend who was openly agnostic in a conservative town. The day he dared to step into a Pentecostal church, he became everyone's new evangelical project rather than potential pal. And that is why he never came back.

2. Too much love

I was involved in this awesome ministry once where everyone adored this one particular guy to the point where I don't think he was part of the ministry to share God's love as it much that it was others loved him there. Last I heard, he was wild and partying, and beyond the beers living a lifestyle that mocked his former one.

But it's not just other's praise, but praise of ourselves. I once knew an adult who, with good intentions, became so soaked up in everyone's praise that she praised herself to the point where it drove others away from church. "I don't want to go to a Bible study where this person has practically self-proclaimed themselves to be the God of their Bible" friends told me.

I'm a Flippy Little Dolphin: To Love is to Stop Comparing

I'm going to be real tonight as I write this blog. I'm going to write about something personal and real, because I think it needs to be said for all of you who feel the same way. There's no need for this to flow eloquently, but rather for you to know that you're not alone, and for everyone to take heart in that we all feel the same way. According to my wanna-be-writer grandpa C.S. Lewis, being relatable makes best writing, anyway.

I compare myself to others. Oh and how I do this.

It usually starts when I'm just having a blah or even okay day and then something comes up that makes me feel bad about myself. Maybe it's a reminder of the rejection I felt by a group of believers recently. I Facebook creep so and so and I see that they've made more friends than me. Someone gets multiple reprimands for going on a week-long mission trip and I selfishly ask why few cared about my time as a student missionary.

I put the good things down that make me jealous to convince myself that what I offer is better-"They were so annoying that I don't care that they don't like me anyway." "Paaay money for friends=sorority!" "Oh quit crying. They were gone for a week overseas. You martyr you." "Your parents pay for everything and you're in your 20's. Good luck with the real world."

And I taunt the bad things in glee, in attempt to delight in myself. "Lololol she gained soooo much weight and she thought she was hot stuff in high school!"  "You're so vain that you put up song lyrics with edited Instagram pictures of yourself. Ha!"

I notice that these thoughts come up when I'm insecure, when I feel that I'm worthless. My instinct as a human is to judge what I see on the outside and to lie and to build myself up. My instinct is to parade around and say "Look at me, look at me! I'm a flippy little dolphin!" or whatever the sharks say on Finding Nemo.

But doing this exhausts me. It makes me hate myself and the world around me. I see the world through selfish sunglasses, until I put on the Son's glasses to see His work. (Corny Jesus pun, heh.)

God loves, loves, loves all of us! We were all made awesomely! It doesn't matter who you are, but you were knit together by God and THAT alone is your identity! Our sin brought in the wrath of God, but Christ paid for our sins, so we can enjoy the presence of God, and this is when it all makes sense-in God's presence.  When you see yourself that way, wow oh how does everything change. And when you see others that way, you can embrace each other in mutual awesomeness. It's no longer comparing or contrasting, but loving God and the people He has made. According to Francis Chan, that's all life is about, anyway.

If our life is about loving the people God has made, then the following statement by John Piper must also be true-"To love is to stop comparing." We are no longer "flippy little dolphins" trying to show off our epicness nor sharks wanting to attack others so we feel good, but we are all the creation of the Sovereign God.

The Loca Lady Language Teacher: The Lack of Sanity in Teaching

When I tell folks I'm a teacher, they give me this look that says "Oh, how dorkingly adorable!" I see their train of thought now: I was such a goody two shoes and bookworm that I just haaad to come back and force young pups into this lifestyle. When they ask me what I teach and I explain I'm a second language teacher, that I teach English for Speakers of Other Languages to adult learners and Spanish to elementary and middle school students, the "you're an adorable ginger dork" look fades into "You are a loca lady" look. All foreign language teachers, you see, are loco.

 

I question my sanity of why in the MUNDO (heh Spanish teacher joke heh) I choose teaching. Oh it's got its negatives, youuuuu bet. Like, I have no life. I wake up early to grade papers, I use my free time to write lessons, and I stay up each late making sure my 180 students ages 3-50 get a quality education. When I'm not doing those things, I whine to Andy about classroom management issues. Or I'm looking at my bank account while adding up the hours I spent each week working on creating curriculum and wonder why the two don't match up.....

I always teach my students not to focus on negativity, but on positivity. Well, it's time to follow my own example, and a new thought enters my mind as I sip decaf Vanilla Chai tea and snuggle up for an overdue Parks and Recreation Netflix marathon. I see the images of my students, of all that has happened in the past 14 hours, and I think "In what other career would all of these things happen-

1. Ten kindergartners tackle me in a giant hug at once, with them telling me they love me
2. A first grader and a third grader insist I write them more Spanish words to teach their families
3. My seventh graders passionately and intellectually defend immigrant rights and beg for more conversational Spanish days where we sit in a circle for an hour and speak only Spanish
4. I teach immigrants life skills that Americans take for granted, like asking for directions when you're lost, saying your address or writing a check
5. Teaching students how to read

I'm not going to change anyone's life overnight. I won't see any drastic changes. But what I do is I take delight in the small successes and knowing that I'm planting the seeds of knowledge, and thus freedom, when I teach.

No One Knows What We Are For, Only What We Are Against

My source of entertainment this Sunday night? It was counting how many "Support Duck Dynasty" posts I could find on Facebook. I counted, oh about 30 in the past several hours. All by Christian-identifiers. They all had phrases like "Stand up/with," "support," "freedom," "liberty," etc. 

Phil Robertson expressed his biblical views on same-sex marriage in a distasteful manner, but that's another sticky story. My underlying thought about my favorite Duck Commander and his fellow duck-haters is that well, we're debating a moral issue that isn't worth our time. We're not going to convince anyone here. Only Christ can. 

And you know, that initial thought rabbit trails me into something else: it seems like American Christians quack too much about what we cannot do or say to prevent us from sharing the Gospel and do way too less about the many, many things we CAN do that would share the message of the Cross more than any angry Twitter Tweet.

1. Why protest lack of school-led prayer in school? Write your child's teacher and administrators encouraging notes instead, thanking them for the unseen work they trudge through.

2. As a teacher, I can't say "Merry Christmas" at all-it's only "Happy Holidays"-but whatever. I think Christ's unofficial birthday would be best celebrated if I asked loved ones to donate to Compassion International in lieu of a Christmas present instead of whining about a phrase largely ignored anyway.

3. Last year's Chick-fil A Appreciation Day where those who lobbied for freedom of religious speech all bombarded CFA. What if we had all raced out to go to serve at the homeless shelter instead?

4. It's easy to participate in an anti-abortion protest at the women's clinic. But what's not so easy is adopting that unwanted child. Therefore, what if we offered our love and hope through adoption instead of our judgement through a picket sign?

5. Your outbursts against gay marriage are useless in a country that's already made up its mind. So build up your own marriage instead, never leaving your spouse behind.

The American Church's pending emphasis is all on what we can NOT do instead on what we CAN do. So should it surprise you that mainstream society knows us more for what we are against instead of what we are for?

"The words that express your faith and the works that show your faith should be so intertwined that they are like a pair of legs walking together side by side in such a way that you can scarcely tell one apart from the other." 

WHAT WILL I DO WITH MY LIFE?!/Escalator Theory

You know me. I'm your friendly, neighborhood Spanish/ESL other culture-loving ginger!
Here are some fun facts about what I SAID God WOULD do with my life in high school and in college. In italics, you can see my thoughts now lolololol

1. I was meant to be an elementary school teacher. Then I volunteered at Westside Elementary. I was happy...for about an hour. Scratch that.

2. After a year of being a teen "lawyer" at Teen Court, two years of Mock Trial, and an emotional episode of Law and Order: SVU, I just knew I'd be an attorney who worked with human trafficking cases. Turns out you can't be an attorney and just fight that. And I don't like rhetoric or dumb legal research. It's more fun to pretend to be an attorney. Lame.

3. I would then have a date to my junior prom. :( At least Mom bought me a laptop to make up for no prom dress. Yeah, looking back on the next year at senior prom, I'd take the laptop any day. Prom is dumb.

4. After junior prom was dateless, I vowed that I would work at a Christian bookstore in college, and I'd meet my future husband in the Spanish book section. He'd be Puerto Rican, ginger, and a youth pastor. LOLOLOLOL

5. A young, single youth pastor DID give me his number in my college cafeteria once! Just not a ginger Puerto Rican. And he was a total flirt who never answered my texts. Loser.

6. I couldn't care less about my university choice, so I'd just go to University of North Florida and live with Mama Karen and Papa John till I finished my degree. Yeah no. No. No.

7. Then, I would teach at Baker County High School. That WAS a nice place, but I prefer Tally :)

8. And then I'd go to Latin America as a missionary until God sent me a husband. Kinda cool what God did with that instead!

To my high school pals and troubled other 20-somethings who are pacing and twitching and having reflective chats with your folks about "What am I to do with my life???" never fear, my amigo. Your lack of fear will come from my theory called "The Escalator of Local Mall."

See, on an escalator, you stand...and wait....and if you are a patient chap (har har har for British words!) it will take you where you need to be, one step at a time. But you must wait, nino (har har har for Spanglish!!!)

I sure am NOT an elementary teacher, and last time I checked, my fiancé homeboy is not a ginger puertoriqueno youth pastor. No. Homes is a dark-haired meteorologist.

But am I happy and satisfied, knowing I'm 100% where I need to be?

Oh yes indeed.

 

 

 

 

 

 





College Kid to Baby Professional-How Your Life Will Change!

I'm kinda envious right now, kids. I've been Facebook creeping a bunch of you who haven't graduated college yet ...and I'm jealous.

When I was in your shoes just a few months ago, man, I was eager to be DONE. Give me that Bachelor's in Spanish and let me get OUT.

But as a young, first-year teacher, I miss the days when I was surrounded by other young early 20's folk instead of being one of the four teachers at my school under the age of 40. It's hard to make friends just because, well, you aren't surrounded by 40,000 students anymore or 500 clubs to meet people who like the same stuff you like.

Life changes, folks. Lemme tell you how life jumps from being a college kid to a baby professional. And since I'm a Spanish teacher and such...might as well put the headings en espanol.


Amigos. College rocked. Friends that after an international student ministry service event, would drag you to Waffle House at 2 AM as you walk down Tennessee Street, terrified of the very wasted people you see? Or that time they kidnapped you and threw you in Westcot Fountain in February temperatures for your 20th birthday?! And the best part? You could meet these said friends anywhere-campus social events, classes, volunteer shindings, at 12 AM at Breakfast for a Buck, whatevs.

When you graduate, your pals graduate..and move away from you. You get bored and lonely sometimes. Yeah, you cooooulld make new amigos in your workplace...but in the professional world, you don't really associate with co-workers outside of work that much. Yeah. Lamesauce!

Aventuras. When you're in college, you have time for adventures-and long ones at that! It's easy to do so if you're smart about it! When else in my life would I get to serve God as a student missionary in the rural Andes, a children's malnutrition center in Guatemala, serving Latino immigrants in Texas, or as a summer camp counselor??? In college....du'oy!!!!!

Enjoy this time. Cuz when you graduate, you'll have a full-time job to worry about, a family, and other big kid responsibilities. God is awesome and I know that He'll totes take me to other cool places! But...your choices get waay more limited.

Pasion. Now's the time to figure out your passion! Join a club. Go off somewhere cool for a summer. You'll find out what you're passionate about. For me, I volunteered to teach ESL at FSU for three semesters, which showed me how much I cared about helping people learn English and adapt to life in this country. I led an international student ministry for two years, which showed me that I had a burden for people who were new to the US adjust to life here and have a better life for themselves and their families. I worked for a foreign language lab for a semester, which showed me that I nerd out over teaching Spanish.

Yeah, find out your passions in college. Cuz afterword..well..it's kinda too late.

And this blog could probably use a better way to end, but it's 10 PM and I'm a working professional, not a college kid anymore. So it's too late. I gotta go.

 

 

 



                                                   

 

 

Hello, My Name is Goose Goose

A random responsibility I have at my school is to babysit the pre-school kiddos while their teachers get a well-deserved lunch break during the school's lunch hour! I love these little darlings-other than my middle schoolers, they are my favorite age group to teach.

They have also made me think quite philosophically.

One day as I was attempting to eat my salad while cleaning up boo-boo's, spilled apples, and other daily adventures, two giggling girls look at me and squeal  the following nugget of wisdom:

"YOU  ARE GOOSE GOOSE!" Say what?

"What is goose goose?" I question their idea.

"YOU!" they retort as one of them almost knocked over her chocolate milk due to her amusement.

"Um, friends, last time I checked they call me Ms. Caroline," I replied in a goofy voice.

"You're not Ms. Caroline! You're Ms. Goose Goose!!!!" And so the search for my identity begins.

                                                                                  *****
School was out for the day, and that meant I could finaaaallly check Facebook when I got home to my apartment-I'm kinda an addict. I posted what I THOUGHT was a witty status. Like away, folks!

But it wasn't. No one liked my status-except for the people like your mom who are SUPPOSED to.. I felt like an unpopular loser and shamefully took my status down. Hmph.

Why did this matter so much to me? It's Facebook, for crying aloud.

I guess it's more than that for me. It tells me who and how many people like me in my mind-based on who likes my stuff. And I guess how many people like me can easily affect how much I like ME each day.

But that's not the only thing I do. I list EVERY job or internship I've ever had up there, thinking maybe that I'm somehow more valuable if I can tell you about the two jobs I have right now as a Spanish/ESL teacher or that you'll think I'm well-traveled and a good Christ follower because of my student missionary terms in Peru, Guatemala and Texas or my summer camp stunt my junior year of high school.

I hope that the fact that I have 1,064 Facebook friends makes up for the month I sat alone at lunch my freshman year of high school or better about people I've felt rejected by.

And I worry that if I don't get tagged in at least one picture every week, people will think I'm boring.

Since different people and amounts of people like my stuff, I guess if I'm not careful how much I like myself changes to match that......

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Sure enough, my name has changed. Good thing "Goose Goose" was not how I defined myself, because I am now "Mister." Mister? Really?! I asked 'em why I'm "Mister" and they said it's "because you are a boy." Great, do I look like a boy?!

(We had a talk about how that wasn't always a nice thing to tell someone before one of them spilled applesauce all over the table.....)

But once again, the pre-schoolers have a lot of wisdom without meaning to. You see, what people will call you will constantly change. Last week I was Goose Goose, now they call me "Mister." If I define my identity by what people may call me, it will change every week.

I need an unchangeable identity.

My name isn't Goose Goose. And it sure ain't Mister. My identity is this: I belong to God and I'm saved by His grace. Cuz that will never change, no mister, not evah. And it sure doesn't depend on Facebook likes.

 

FLYING GOOSE GOOSE GINGER!!!!!!!