Filling up walls

It's funny how life changes so quickly and can surprise you in more ways than you'll ever know.

Even in something as simple as a classroom.

I'm now in my sixth year of teaching, which feels weird to say. It honestly doesn't seem like that long ago when I was the newbie just trying to stay afloat. Now there are more newbies, and suddenly I am expected to know answers to certain questions and can no longer use the "new teacher" excuse for anything. And I'm comfortable in my role.

I love my job, and I love that because of what I teach I get to have some of my students for all four of their years in high school. I love getting to see how much they change during that time period—how much they mature and turn into true young adults. Sometimes even the kiddos who seem like they will just never "get it," so to speak, become some of the most wonderful people you've ever met, and you discover you're actually sad to see them leave. And it all happens in the classroom—that same classroom that was once just a plain room with boring walls and no real value. But it becomes more—so much more—after it's been decorated with student work or words of wisdom quotes or random pictures the kids printed off when you weren't looking or even pictures they colored for you when they had finished all of their work in your class.

And it becomes home.

I love looking around the room where I teach and seeing all that has collected on the walls over the years. It makes me smile to know that these walls tell stories and have allowed countless and significant journeys to pass through here year after year.

Her room is fabulous.

My sister is in her first year of teaching, and I tried helping her set up her classroom a few weeks ago. Looking around the room, you might have become as discouraged as we felt at the time. How were we possibly going to take those old white walls and create an appealing atmosphere that students would enjoy? The entire task seemed overwhelming and way more than one or two people could handle.

But that didn't stop my precious sister.

I went to her classroom again yesterday, and I was completely amazed at the transformation I saw. Her room looks awesome, and I know it's because of all of the hard work she put in to making it so. She went up there day, after day, after day, after day. Her commitment to improving what once seemed so unpromising truly unfolded into something wonderful.

And that's not too far off from what we experience much of the time.

Just like changing the look of a classroom, our lives are often undergoing drastic changes that have to be done to reveal the beauty that needs to be surfaced. The more time and energy we devote to ensuring this happens, the more drastic the changes will be. Just like the students who come and go from teachers' lives over the years, we are going through transformations ourselves, whether we realize it or not.

I was so proud of my sister for finishing that room, and I hope she was, too. Heck, I was thrilled with the measly board I made for her, so I can't imagine how great she must have felt when she realized she had completed what was once such a daunting task. In a way, we are just like those classrooms—we might be in such messes, and it appears like things actually getting better would be more difficult than constructing the Wall of China, but God patiently gets us to where we need to be. He makes sure the end product is just as He envisioned—and it's wonderful.

Students come and go and hopefully grow to be better people before they leave; classrooms change from year to year, always telling new stories and reminding you of fond times in the past; people realize transformations they need to endure to become the gems they never knew they were; and an unchanging God is there for every step of each journey taken.

Don't let your walls stay empty.

Staying on guard

The heart is so fragile yet so powerful at the same time.

It's a precious thing that can impact people beyond belief, but then it can break much more quickly than you give it away.

So you're told to guard it.

But what does it mean to "guard your heart," exactly? It almost at times seems contradictory, because we are taught to be loving and open our hearts up to people, but how can we do that if we are constantly guarding them? Even Proverbs 4:23 says, "Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." That's a pretty big thing to be protecting—the key part of that being protecting.

It makes me think of the final scene in The Little Mermaid. King Triton obviously doesn't want his daughter to be a human and away from his sea kingdom forever. He would rather guard her and protect her. But, at the same time, he knows that the only way for her to experience the love she's found is to let her leave and be with Eric, the man who has proven to be the one with whom she is supposed to spend the rest of her life. Our hearts are a lot like Ariel—yes, we must guard them, but we also must let them flourish and allow love to be what wins.

I don't think that when young women are told to guard their hearts that it's meant for them to shelter themselves from others and never let their hearts have feelings that are stronger than they've ever known. But, at the same time, it isn't good to give your heart away so quickly that it's more vulnerable and at risk of being easily broken. There's a fine line and a balance, though it's often difficult to know what those are.

And that's where complete surrender comes in.

When we trust God with all of our hearts, that balance is easier to determine. If we're seeking Him first, we don't have to worry as much about giving our hearts away too fast, because their in tune with His. The One from whom we never have to guard our hearts is there to guide us and protect us, and He is also there to comfort us when we do experience those heartbreaks that at first seem like they will never go away.

I recently realized the need for complete surrender of my heart when it became quite apparent in something I had been praying about a lot that I wasn't giving it completely to God. I was praying what I knew I should—that everything was in His hands and for Him to take certain feelings of my heart away—but, in the back of my mind, I really wanted things to work out the way I wanted them to. I wanted those feelings, and I wanted them returned.

But that wasn't in His plan.

When I felt the Lord prompting me to give Him all of my heart and obeyed, everything changed instantly. I know longer felt the heartache I had been, and I knew it was right. I knew that, in order to guard my heart better, I needed to let it be fully in the Lord's hands all of the time. The more we hold on to the things we desire that aren't part of what He has in store for us, the more pain we will feel, and the harder it will be to understand. But, when we completely surrender our hearts, we are able to guard them and let them flourish at the same time.

We also have to guard our hearts against bitterness and resentment so that we don't fill them with unforgiveness—that would defeat the purpose of letting our hearts love. With complete surrender, we can find the grace to extend to others and to ourselves—and we can find it in that very thing that contains more power than we might ever know.

With such a magnificent thing in each of us, it's just one more reason to guard the heart with care yet let it shine for the whole world to see.

Swim to the duck

It's amazing how strong people can be when they have to be.

Even at the age of 3.

I've been teaching swim lessons the past couple of weeks to a precious little boy named Carter, and he's not the biggest fan of going under the water. In fact, last week, the first thing he said to me when I walked through the door was, "I don't want to go under the water!" Obviously that lesson started off on a positive note. Would you be surprised if I told you he spent most of that lesson crying and screaming at the top of his lungs that he didn't want to go under the water? I felt bad for the neighbors and really hoped none of them were at home. Otherwise they might have thought some form of torture was going on in that nice backyard in the suburbs.

When I left that day, after enduring half an hour of tears and his attempts of trying to hit me on occasion, Carter said, "See you tomorrow! I love you!"

My heart melted.

Even though that sweet little boy had just been a terror in the pool, he was only acting so because of the overwhelming sense of fear he had. As I was getting into my car, I decided the next day I would need to earn his complete trust before he would be willing to believe he could swim on his own. So, the following lesson, I took on a new approach as we eased our way into the water with different activities of splashing, blowing bubbles, and pretend kicking our feet. And each time I made him try some form of swimming activity—whether it was using his kick board, floating, swimming to the top of the water, or swimming out to me—I found that he would be willing to do it if I said, "Well, let's just try it once first." After that, he would usually be willing to try it again another time—after he clapped for himself and told himself he was an all-star, of course.

Be bold.

I was so proud of Carter after that lesson, because he was more willing to try new things. He trusted me that I wouldn't let him drown if he was struggling, and he started to trust himself more in the process.

And then today that little boy just blew me away.

Carter has a new tiny rubber duck with a fireman hat, and he was so overjoyed as he showed it to me right before the lesson. So, after we had practiced his swimming for a bit, I thought it would be a good idea to bring that duck in the water, too. Carter would have to swim to the duck. I had never seen him so happy and willing to try, and he gave it his all as he swam from the step, and I kept moving the duck farther and farther. He swam the entire length of the pool all on his own! He almost started crying when I told him what he had just done—because I think he realized the enormity of the situation and felt like his entire life was in tremendous danger—but when I assured him it was a good thing and asked, "Isn't that awesome?!" he kept a small frown but said, "Yeah, it is."

And he wasn't lying.

Even as an innocent little 3-year-old, Carter is learning what it means to be bold. If he sits on the side and doesn't even try, he won't ever learn to swim. But if he lets courage take the wheel, and he keeps kicking his legs and using those toddler arms to drive himself through the water, he's going to get to his duck and be a great little swimmer. He had no idea he was swimming the whole pool—all he knew was that he was swimming toward me (who had the duck). And, as I kept backing up, he just kept swimming, trusting that I knew what I was doing and that he would get there and be fine.

We don't always know where God is leading us in life, and it can be scary to have to follow Him. But if we just keep swimming toward Him, trusting that He knows what He's doing and that He is good, we will get to where we need to be. There are so many great things to be accomplished in life—whether it's saving lives, impacting nations, changing careers, pursuing dreams that seem so hard to achieve, giving your heart away to another, or simply swimming the length of your own pool.

But you won't ever get the duck if you're not bold enough to take off and swim there.

Bring on the waters

There are times when adversity happens, and our original plans get soiled.

Sometimes even literally.

Last Tuesday, movers came to my apartment to take all of my furniture away to the storage place it will all be for a few months. I've never hired movers before, and my experience certainly didn't go as I had hoped.

For starters, one of the guys smelled like weed and kept asking me questions about my personal life. He even opened up my refrigerator to look inside, claiming he liked to get to know his customers better by doing so. I didn't need him to know much about me—I needed him to get this move accomplished as quickly as possible. So, I was already a tad frustrated, topping off the stress of the enormous amount of packing I still had ahead of me.

Then came the real drama.

I told the movers that I had unplugged the washer and dryer but didn't know how to remove everything else from the wall. One of them said it was no problem and that they had the tools to do so. I didn't need to worry about a thing.

But boy was that false.

The guy who was unhooking the washing machine broke something, and the next thing I knew there was water flooding my floor, and the fellas were yelling for me to call maintenance at my apartment complex. I called in a frenzy as I stepped outside and saw water quickly beginning to cover the entire breezeway as it leaked from my apartment. The maintenance crew got there as fast as it could, though it seems like people never move at the speed you wish during crises.

Eeeeek!

The maintenance men came in to save the day (after finally turning the water off) with their giant vacuums, industrial-sized brooms, and boisterous fans. The movers went back to clearing out all of my furniture, while I sat there and stared at the whole scene. All I wanted was a peaceful final two days at the home where I had been for four years, and this is what I got: chaos and flooding.

Unfortunately, there was carpet damage (along with a small hole in the wall from the broken pipe), and yours truly will be charged for the mess. As I drove to the storage unit, I honestly wanted to cry like a baby, because that's how I felt: completely helpless. I had stood in the middle of everything without being able to do anything except soak in all that was happening around me. I had no way of assisting the maintenance men in clearing out the water, and the movers had already told me to stop trying to move furniture with them. So I just stood there in a peaceful manner but not feeling any form of peace.

At all.

When I was home later that night and about to go to bed on some blankets on the ground, I went to charge my phone only to realize my charger had been stolen from the outlet where it normally was behind my missing bed. It felt like a fitting ending to the day.

I laid down and stared up at the ceiling and found myself praising the Lord. Yes, my apartment was a disaster as the loudest fans in the world (clearly not a hyperbolic statement) lulled me to sleep that night; sure, I had been fooled and robbed; of course, I was upset that this would cost me more than I can afford right now; and, absolutely, nothing felt ideal at the moment.

But God is still so good. Always.

I thought about how unthankful I had been throughout the entire day, and that needed to change. Floods are going to happen in life, but God is still always there with you through those challenging times. He might give you a raft or an arc or a high-powered vacuum cleaner of some sort, but he will never just leave you alone to drown. It felt so nice in that instance to feel an overwhelming sense of calming waters instead of roaring tides. So I guess I got my final peaceful evening in my apartment after all.

Don't worry about the floods—they happen, but they can often make you realize just how wonderful and precious life truly is.

And how much bigger our God is than floods.