the most excellent teacher

It is May again.  And another year is coming to an end.  And I find myself more than ever wanting to look back and marvel at the great distance traveled in thirty-six weeks time.  But rather than my journey, I marvel at that of another.  She is a teacher too, one who has taught many more than I in her classroom.

Although I did not know her when she began teaching, it was before my time, I imagine she captivated her audience with the same poise and passion that first day, as she does still today.  When she enters a room, students can’t help but feel her presence.  She carries her knowledge and ability to teach with every move.  It is incredible the great capacity she has to impact the lives around her. 

The lessons I, and countless others, have learned from her are imprinted deep within the very fibers of our beings.  An excellent educator, she has expected nothing less than our best because she has given nothing less in return.  She has stood before, beside, and behind her pupils in order to deliver the unmistakable message that learning is power.

I never knew a teacher to be as self-giving as she.  A heart for others, she gives of herself without hesitation.  She has journeyed a great distance within the classroom because her heart beats for the people around her.  She gains nourishment to continue her learning journey with every person she meets.  Never knowing a student she couldn’t teach, she has embraced every mind and soul entrusted to her. 

Soon, however, she will leave the classroom.  Her tenure will end with ring of a bell two weeks from today.  Twenty-two years she will leave behind her.  Twenty-two years of lives enriched with her presence.  Even more, her own distance, a learning journey of twenty-two years will culminate in a brief walk across the high school stage.  Not needing to look back, she will look ahead to the next opportunity to teach, to touch lives, to enrich and empower the next student she meets.

Who is this great teacher, this paramount presenter of knowledge?  She is a student.  My student.  A special student.  A student whose needs never limited her ability to engage in the classroom.  She is the ultimate teacher because she too has been learning, every minute of every day while teaching the lessons of life at the very same time.

The Chambered Nautilus

Build the more stately mansions, O my soul,

As the swift seasons roll!

Leave thy low-vaulted past!

Let each new temple, nobler than the last,

Shut the from heaven with a dome more vast,

Till thou at length art free,

Leaving thine outgrown shell by life’s unresting sea!

by Oliver Wendell Holmes

a breath taking, captivating drink of water

I feel so blessed for the Lord has managed to take my breath away countless times this week. Of this grace I am undeserving. Today, it is His words from Isaiah that are resonating deep in my soul, the image of His words fulfilling our thirst, is captivating me today.

Isaiah 55

All you who are thirsty, come to the water! You who have no money, come, receive grain and eat; Come, without paying and without cost, drink wine and milk!

Why spend your money for what is not bread; your wages for what fails to satisfy? Heed me, and you shall eat well, you shall delight in rich fare.

Come to me heedfully, listen, that you may have life. I will renew with you the everlasting covenant, the benefits assured to David.

As I made him a witness to the peoples, a leader and commander of nations,

So shall you summon a nation you knew not, and nations that knew you not shall run to you, Because of the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, who has glorified you.

Seek the LORD while he may be found, call him while he is near.

Let the scoundrel forsake his way, and the wicked man his thoughts; Let him turn to the LORD for mercy; to our God, who is generous in forgiving.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways, says the LORD.

As high as the heavens are above the earth, so high are my ways above your ways and my thoughts above your thoughts.


For just as from the heavens the rain and snow come down And do not return there till they have watered the earth, making it fertile and fruitful, Giving seed to him who sows and bread to him who eats,


So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth; It shall not return to me void, but shall do my will, achieving the end for which I sent it.


Yes, in joy you shall depart, in peace you shall be brought back; Mountains and hills shall break out in song before you, and all the trees of the countryside shall clap their hands.


In place of the thornbush, the cypress shall grow, instead of nettles, the myrtle. This shall be to the LORD'S renown, an everlasting imperishable sign.

finding pete, continued

Because of mass, I was now running late for camp. I finished the journey in silence and allowed the Holy Spirit to enter every part of my being. I approached the entrance to camp bubbling with excitement anticipating a week ordained by God.


I drove down the long road to a clearing where a young man stood waving in welcome. I rolled down my window. “Welcome to Camp Barnabas! I am Pete. What’s your name?” he said to me. A few more niceties and he pointed me down the hill where he said I was to park. Phew. He was nice, and cute, what a way to start this off. I parked my car and he walked with me to the check in table where he introduced me to the volunteer. Moments later, I turned around to thank him, but he was gone.


After finding out my assignment I was told to join the other volunteers on the tennis courts where the kick-off meeting was taking place. I searched for Pete, but didn’t find him. Instead I took a seat at the back and listened as the camp directors welcomed us and introduced us to Camp Barnabas. After a couple hours of games, clean up and dinner, praise and worship began back on the tennis court. I sat down, again towards the back and looked to the front. There was Pete, with a set of drums, and his head down, in prayer, as the leader began to sing.


What happened next can only be explained as the Holy Spirit drowning me in peace, relief, joy, hope, grace; I was overcome with tears as I sang in ultimate praise for all these things. I watched Pete as he played the drums and felt something within me. A stirring, as I watched him, it grew. I continued to cry and sing, sing and cry. A truly powerful experience that left me drained.


The next day I joined the other CIA’s as we celebrated the arrival of our campers. Mine came somewhere in the middle of the long line of cars. As he stepped out of his parents van, he took off running, and he didn’t stop until he reached the playground, three football fields away. I ran after him, thinking to myself, what have I gotten myself into? Out of breath I reached my camper and let him play a while until he allowed me to hold his hand and walk with him to his cabin.


A few more runs later, my small group leaders decided it would be best if I traded campers with a younger guy whose camper had cried as often as my camper had run. Garrett and I, my new camper, were a match made in heaven. He was homesick and I needed a hug. We were like two peas in a pod, sharing our feelings with each other, this little 11 year and me, 23 at the time. Garrett and I shared a glorious week together. Every experience was new for both of us. I did my best to embrace his fears and comfort his anxiety, understanding what he was feeling; I gave him the love that I needed too.


Throughout the week I would see Pete a number of times, in as many different places. Always from a distance, and never able to speak with him, I was moved each time with the same feelings as the first night. He was on the hill pushing a kid in a wheel barrel, laughing with the boy as they came down the hill. In the pool with a little girl, obviously fearful of the water, he held her gently, empowering her with his words of encouragement. Each evening in praise and worship, head down in prayer, playing, singing, praising the Lord.


The stirring within me continued to grow stronger. I sat in quiet time and reflected on him, curious and intrigued by his actions. I asked the Lord for a chance to speak with him once more, but it never happened. On the last day, greatly changed by the week and the presence of such a humble servant, I wrote Pete a letter thanking him for his actions which were a witness to me. I explained that I had been inspired by him and would always keep him in my prayers. I placed the letter in the camp mailbox as I was leaving, never knowing if he received it, but confident that the Lord would handle it carefully.


I drove home that day, completely changed by the week I had just finished. Exhausted also by the mountain top where I just spent seven days, I knew I would need the drive to decompress and come slowly back to earth.


The next day I went to mass with my family. Again, not remembering the readings or the homily, I clearly recall the moment I received communion that day. As I walked back to my seat, the now familiar stirring returned, I knelt in prayer, gazing up at the crucifix. Suddenly, my eyes were opened. It was Him. He was Pete. He welcomed me to the place He had called me. He served His children. He brought them joy. He gave them strength. He led us in praise to our God. He was moving within me. Christ in Pete had spent the week by my side, revealing each day, a new way to serve His special angels on this earth while drawing me ever closer in my faith.


For a while following this experience, I tried to understand each moment of that week. I tried to find Him in every word, smile, and laugh. I spent weeks in awe of what He had revealed to me. The idea of looking for Pete had permanently attached itself to my soul, almost like a label on an envelope. Although the fire within me would soon simmer, Pete, and Christ’s presence through him never departed me.

finding pete

Some years ago I was sitting in my room watching television. It was a Sunday evening and my favorite show was on, Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Each time I watched this show, I was inspired by the humble servants who were given a second chance and a beautiful home. This particular evening the featured family was located in Missouri; they operated a camp for children with special needs. Camp Barnabas was a place for children, who might not otherwise have an opportunity to enjoy the summer camp experience, to come and spend a week doing the same things their non-disabled peers take for granted. As I watched the show, I was moved by the stories they shared so much so I searched for them on the internet the next day.


In my search I discovered their Christians in Action program. “CIA’s” were volunteers who gave a week in service to the campers. They spend the week accompanying campers to all their activities, praise and worship, swimming, horseback riding, canoeing; their presence allows the campers the freedom to safely and joyfully experience camp. I decided to apply to be a CIA for one week the following summer. I completed the application and prayed that I would be granted to opportunity to give of myself in this way. A month or so later, on Christmas Eve, I received a letter informing me that I had been accepted and the next July I would need to report to camp, in Purdy, Missouri.


Time went by and the week of camp rapidly approached and with it anxiety and fear of venturing into this experience. Although I had been monumentally inspired by this place and their saintly work, I was entering this week alone, with no one who would know me, know my family, or my faith. I was entering virtually blind in every way; accept the one that matters most, God had called me here. Knowing this was the only comfort I carried with me. All the anxiety I felt couldn’t stop me from following Him. As I drove I battled this tremendous anxious fear with His call, His strength, His commission.


Making the driving to Missouri easier, I extended the drive to include an overnight visit with a friend in Kansas City. I left Saturday morning with enough time to arrive early to camp. I followed the directions, highways, dirt roads, lonely stretches of fields. While I drove, I realized that I would not have an opportunity to go to mass once I arrived at camp. This was Saturday afternoon, the campers would arrive on Sunday morning and I would not be able to leave until the following Saturday. This slowly became a great concern for me, perhaps as a result of the anxiety. Lost in this thought I traveled down a two-lane highway with tall fields on either side. Suddenly in the distance I saw a small billboard. As I approached the sign, I read, “Welcome… from St. Mary’s. Mass times, 3:30 Saturday… Join Us.”


Was this an invitation from my travel companion, my God? I entered the small town determined to find St. Mary’s Catholic Church. In what appeared to be downtown, I took a left, then a right, then another right, and ended up back on the street I started from. I looked up and across the railroad tracks in an empty field was the church. Praise God. It was 3:25. I crossed the street and the tracks and went inside. A quaint sanctuary with beautiful stained glass windows and old pews, it smelled just like a church should smell. I took a seat at the back as mass began. I don’t remember the exact readings, or the homily from the priest, but I remember the peace that came over me. My fears subsided and I was filled with the Holy Spirit. When I left, I was prepared for what lay ahead of me.

tree of life

Jeremiah 17:7-8 Blessed are those who trust in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. They shall be like a tree planted by water, sending out its roots by the stream. It shall not fear when heat comes and its leaves shall stay green; in the year of drought it is not anxious and it does not cease to bear fruit.

The first time I recall hearing this passage from Jeremiah, an exquisite picture was painted in my mind. A tall oak tree, with leaves reaching high above the stream, far and wide like arms spread open; n

othing else but this incredible oak tree standing solid beside a tranquil stream of running water. Wanting to capture this image, I took to drawing a picture of the tree with robust roots planted firm near the refreshing, life giving water.

After drawing the picture, I noticed something so stunning I almost didn’t recognize it. When I was a little girl, and pretty much ever since, whenever I sit still long enough to draw a picture, a doodle or a “masterpiece” the image is always the same. Grass along the bottom. A few flowers with a leaf or two in the bottom left corner. In the right corner, a perfect tree, a wide trunk, with a cloudy top of various shades of green. In the sky, round clouds. The top left corner, a round sun of golden yellow and rays reaching across to the page. Sometimes there were birds soaring across the sky, sometimes a girl with hearts floating around her head. Sometimes a house. But always a tree; and always, carved right in the middle of the wide trunk of that tree, a heart, bearing the initials of my love of the moment and me.

As I looked deep beneath the surface of these two images, I realize the stream of life running through both. The tree that has planted itself along the water, with roots drinking from the waters of life, has been rewarded with eternal life, eternal fruit bearing life. My tree, my resilient tree, has received a far different reward for its unchanging leaves. The life which runs through Jeremiah’s tree is received from the source itself, the roots drinking with constant thirst, from the Great Giver of Life. My tree, my now humble tree, has too received life, but a life less than eternal for it exists only within me. The tree of life, ever green, eternal tree of life, exists miraculously within the Lord.

Sometime later, after dancing through the contrasts between the tree of life and the tree of my life, I gained a more clear understanding of the passage from Jeremiah, “Blessed are those whose trust is in the Lord, whose trust is the Lord. THEY shall be like a tree planted by water.” The source of life is trust in the Lord. Not just the Lord himself, but the trust we place in him, extending our hands and feet, arms and legs, mind and heart to this trust, and receiving life from the Lord in return. It is this trust that allows us to remain green in times of drought, in times of fear and times of anguish. It is this trust that allows us to bear fruit, great holy fruit, worthy of His name, fruit that continues to give life to all it meets. It is this trust, this source of life that withstands the heat of loneliness, trials of fear and temptation, raging fires of lust and greed, for trust in the Lord strikes down fear, comforts the lonely, strengthens the weak of heart, and gives life to those who open themselves up to Him.

As I openly received yet another incentive for placing my trust in the Lord, I realized what was missing from my tree. Its ever green leaves, blooming flowers, shining sun and emerald grass were only complete with the “carving” in the tree. The heart I intentionally placed in the same spot, each and every time was missing the most important initial. A simple G for my God carefully placed next to the lower case M for me. My true and everlasting love, my Lord, my God. Trusting in the Lord meant opening all of me, all my heart and soul, to the Great Giver of Life, the great, ever flowing, never ending, source of eternal life.

a silver nugget from before... peace all around me

Written while in Cyprus in July 2007

I am not sure if peaceful is the correct adjective to describe the way this place makes me feel. I have searched for a word to fit the feeling that I experienced when I realized the calmness in my head and in my heart over the past few days. I have never been to a place that reminds me of God’s tremendous creation. As I stood on the beach, watching the sun come up over the water, with the waves gently covering my feet, I found myself in awe of what was around me; the pristine water, the white sand, the immense beauty in the light of the sun hitting the miles and miles of water in front of me. I thought to myself, I have found a place that speaks to my heart, not in words, but in a glimpse of the purity that lies around me.


I recalled many times having thought that the beach would be a comforting place for me, but having never experienced a place like this, I did not know the effect being here would have on me. I thought about the times that I imagined walking along the beach, imagining what it would look like, what it would feel like. I didn’t come close to what this experience actually has been. I remember always wanting to share a place like this with another person, a boyfriend, a husband, a close friend, but standing there I took notice of the gift I was being given me from my true love.


I was allowed the opportunity to share this beautiful place with the man who created it. The man who knew that once I was here I would cherish every detail that he took the time to perfect. The man who carried me across the world, away from the clouds that often hide the beauty in the place I live. He called me to a place where I could finally accept that I am blessed by a love that forces all other love to pail in comparison. He knew what my heart was searching for and he answered that search with a gift that proves his perfect love for me.


Taking time to give meaning to every moment I have to share with him, I know why it is now that he has called me here. Tomorrow, the love that is shared between two friends will grow even stronger in their commitment to God and each other. As they stand in front of all of us who have gathered here to celebrate the gift that God has given them, which is the love of a man for his wife, they will ask God into their marriage to be the bond that carries them through good times and bad, through sickness and good health, from that moment on.


As they make that vow to each other, I will make a vow of my own. To my God, my love, the man who has given me this life to experience all that the world has to offer with someone by my side who will never leave me, never forsake me, someone who will always forgive me, always love me, and will always remind me that I am not alone. I will make a vow to never forget his place by my side. A vow that will last for eternity because as a man unconditionally loves his wife, my God, who unconditionally loves me.

Perhaps peace is the right word to describe this feeling. Peace of mind and heart that the search I have lead for many years was over before it began. I have found someone to share my life with, it is my God who has loved me since I was born and will love me and shower me with gifts, blessings like this place, so that I feel his love every moment of every day of my life. My heart can rest, for it has found its companion in God.

mountain top reality

Lately when I close my eyes I find myself standing on a mountain top covered in pure white snow with the sun shining beautifully around me. Every direction I turn I see an exquisite masterpiece created by a most magnificent maker. I squeeze my eyes closed even tighter as I prepare to speak, hoping that this time, I will find my voice. This is not the first time I have found myself standing here, gazing at the beauty of the Lord’s tremendous creation, nor is it the first time I have felt an earth shattering desire to shout from the tips of my toes. Yet, this moment, just like each before, I open my mouth and nothing comes out.

Disenchanted, I slowly open my eyes and travel rapidly back to reality. The world around me, although created by the same magnificent maker, is less incredible with the light of real life shining through it. I have always preferred an imaginary world to my reality. Having been a daydreamer since a young age, I became a master of creating make believe life more enticing. This attraction to fantasy is the also the root of many great romances, friendships, and experiences which existed only in my head. Heart broken and disappointed, I never believed this whimsical life could be mine.

Today however, as I venture back to the mountain top, with my eyes closed and my heart aching, I decide to listen instead of speak. On this day, in this magnificent place, I hear something quite incredible. The familiar voice coming from the Heavens is proclaiming a great message. My heart begins to race as the words echo from the valleys below me. Again I squeeze my eyes tight, only not to prepare myself to speak, but to allow my heart to listen; to grow more like a great sponge, soaking each word poured upon me.

Gone from my mind are the fictitious characters of love, out of my reach are the trifles of a grand life in extraordinary places. Like a pitcher being filled with fresh water, I am gradually filled with a fresh spring of pleasure. The pleasure that comes from surrender. The pleasure that only the great Lord above can provide. The pleasure that seems so fulfilling, even I cannot imagine searching any further. The message today is simple, one I feel completely at home with. I have heard it before and yet today it appears more real than ever. The proclamation, so commanding and so forgiving, carries with it an urging into action. Just as gently as the words are spoken, my heart stations itself into position. Different than before, I now open my eyes and see my world through His glorious perspective.

My world, my tangible world, has actual potential. Factual people and real determination. This world, this life, is now the penchant. This life, this real life enlivens my soul, invigorates my heart, excites my mind. Prudently I sprint down from the mountain, for it is with great intention that I embrace this world, at last, choosing truth over make-believe.

The further from the mountain I go, the softer the voice becomes, but the message always the same. “For I so the loved the world that I sent my only son that you might not perish but have eternal life.”

Only for today...

1. Only for today, I will seek to live the livelong day positively without wishing to solve the problems of my life all at once.

2. Only for today, I will take the greatest care of my appearance: I will dress modestly; I will not raise my voice; I will be courteous in my behavior; I will not criticize anyone; I will not claim to improve or to discipline anyone except myself.

3. Only for today, I will be happy in the certainty that I was created to be happy, not only in the other world but also in this one.

4. Only for today, I will adapt to circumstances, without requiring all circumstances to be adapted to my own wishes.

5. Only for today, I will devote 10 minutes of my time to some good reading, remembering that just as food is necessary to the life of the body, so good reading is necessary to the life of the soul.

6. Only for today, I will do one good deed and not tell anyone about it.

7. Only for today, I will do at least one thing I do not like doing; and if my feelings are hurt, I will make sure that no one notices.

8. Only for today, I will make a plan for myself: I may not follow it to the letter, but I will make it. And I will be on guard against two evils: hastiness and indecision.

9. Only for today, I will firmly believe, despite appearances, that the good Providence of God cares for me as no one else who exists in this world.

10. Only for today, I will have no fears. In particular, I will not be afraid to enjoy what is beautiful and to believe in goodness. Indeed, for 12 hours I can certainly do what might cause me consternation were I to believe I had to do it all my life.

Pope John XXIII

warning: do not wake the beast of love

I really wish I had read the Song of Solomon some time before my eighteenth birthday. I think if I had read this book then, I would have saved myself a decade of hopeless decay. Rather, here I sit, twenty eight, my soul mending from another war with mistaken love. I have written too much about this most recent love, and before that spoken too much about the loves, enemies rather, which had come before. At the end of each battle my heart appeared stronger; perhaps more prepared to outlast another. Today I wonder, had I read the book of Songs, would I have preserved my heart for the one, would I have waited and remained woundless?

Although the scar of physical virginity lies in the shallow crevices of our soul, the deeper wound of spiritual purity demands a greater healing when it is inflicted. The decay I speak of is perpetrated by my own hand. My own unraveling as a result of mental, spiritual, physical weakness, laziness, forfeiting the pure, unstained beauty of a chaste heart for one dripping with guilt and pain from awaking love that was simply not ready. A healing is no doubt necessary when we awaken this love. I imagine this is why three times we are implored to wait. Preserving our physical and spiritual covenant with the Father so that when love is ready, so too are we.

Having fought the temptation of human sexuality, I admit the words contained in this book inspire me. Empower me. Reignite the desire in my heart to be chaste and pure for the love the Lord has prepared for me. If only to be worthy of the phrase, “Who is this that looks forth like the dawn, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army with banners!” (Song 6:10) For it is with an army and banners that we are tested to stand steadfast. The Lord does not expect us to withstand temptation alone. He does not call us to resist the temptation of unready love without first fixing our souls with His protection. If only we turn to the Lord, remain within the walls of His fortress until He awakens the love for us.

Fortunately for me, His fortress of protection allows us to reenter without price. He benevolently opens His arms for our return when we recognize that the battlefield of love is far too dangerous for us to wage alone. It is here, within these walls that we find healing. That our souls are made clean, the guilt washed away. When we return and receive His outpouring of love, we are made strong and thus prepared to wait for love to awaken, when it is ready.

a new crop of love

A few months back, I sat in reflection after hearing the word of God and a verse discussing the first fruits of our labor. Having a brief experience with the concept, I began to research the topic in order to be sure what I understood first fruits to mean was in line with Christian ideology. I found first fruits to be explained as the practice of offering the first products of your labor to the Lord, in gratitude; in a more broad way, the first results of an undertaking. Assuming permission, I continued to reflect on the harvest of my labor, questioning what my undertakings produce that may be worthy of offering to the Lord?

Evaluating a number of happiness projects I had adopted in my life, I wondered what each of these efforts were yielding with their success. Quitting bad habits obviously made me a healthier person, but was the product of this labor tangible enough to offer up? Being healthy afforded me the frame of mind and physical toughness to serve when the Lord called. My response to His call came at no monumental price, He placed me here to do this work, what He received was surely pleasing, but of no great sacrifice to me. There had to be something in my life that I toiled at, daily, without rest, that would delight the Lord.

Unexpectedly it occurred to me. The greatest work of my life was right there. Sitting heavily on my heart, affecting every move, every word, every breath I took. More than a response to His call to service, it was in following His greatest commandment. “This is my command: that you love one another as I have loved you” (John 15:12). The love I toil after, the labor my love requires of me, yields a most delightful harvest. Perfecting my love for my neighbor, working to love my enemies, laboring to see others and treat others as the Lord our God sees and treats me, comes at a great price.

My human nature conflicts with the divine nature in which the Lord commands us to love one another. It is when I rise above, with toil and strife, to be more Christ-like in my interactions with those around me that I am able to offer up the result of this worthy undertaking to the Lord. Beyond a simple hour or dollar given to those less fortunate, this undertaking requires me to reach within myself, within the inner most workings of my heart and soul, to truly love the man who has rejected me. Deep within what feels right, to a place that hurts my ego, so that I can give aid to the woman who spoke hate of me. It is only in that place, that raw and vulnerable place that I may gather this most precious first fruit and lay it in front of the Lord, my offering in gratitude for His love, his perfect, steadfast, amazing love for me.