shouts of joy

Thus begins the search ... The middle, such an undefined locale. With no beginning and certainly no end. And in all reality, neither two exist. Just as a ship sets sail, the vision of it's departure remains a collection. For a goodbye, what a perplexing scramble of words; never quite tangible and never really gone. Yet, how lucky we are to have something that makes saying goodbye so painful. Changing what is left, without knowing what might become, then calling it good. So we continue searching, as was our first intentions. Love these faces.

My 6th graders are work quite diligently right now, which I'm very impressed with, on research papers on a possible future career they've so willingly chosen. The career research paper idea was generated from a conversation I had at the gym one morning with a former principal. That meeting in and of itself would produce quite a lengthy report. There's a lot on my mind right now as I watch them write quietly. They're good writers. They're deep thinkers, many of them. They're overflowing with revolutionary ideas. They have so much potential and I sit here in silence dreaming of what they will do one day that will make the world a super place. It's already week 9 of my student teaching. Sometimes, it seems like these 9 weeks have felt more like the slow defrosting of a wintery wonderland, but on bright days like today I don't mind the wintery wonderland and I'm not ready for the next season. This morning I felt inspired to show my kids this video. A...

As an Elementary Education graduating senior I think a lot about why I've been called to education. Is there someTHING I'm suppose to teach? SomeONE I'm suppose to teach? SomeWHERE I'm suppose to teach? I get the question, "Would you prefer private or public?" Right now, I feel very strongly about talking to my students about Jesus. I love Him. I want my students to know Him. This blog, in particular, tugged at my heart strings today. Please read it if you have a chance:  In Which I Pray That My Children Will Change The World Today, I had a student write me a letter. He's often times had a difficult time communicating in words, so when I see him struggling I've asked him to write out what he's thinking or feeling, that way I can read it and do my best to understand what he needs. Today his letter went like this: Dear Cristina. Why do you hate me?  Yea I don't like you.  Youre suppose to be nice to your students. Sincerely, A. I...

Letters, blocks, and colors whirl around in intense chaos with an anorexic chance of any order. My vision is distorted in a dark place as the clutter continues to swarm and buzz. The buzzing gets louder and the swarming much faster, until the small of my mind urges the rest of it to escape the dream that seems to indulge on my weak and fatigued state. I can't remember when this dream first began to take over my peaceful nights of sleep causing my heart to race, my forehead to perspire and severe anxiety to settle in and hunker down until morning. In this too familiar and exhausting mirage of numbers, letters, shapes and colors I exhaust myself more in a running attempt to solve this puzzle and make order of its zooming pieces. Re-occuring dreams have meaning, I hear, but this dream has crossed over from engulfing my peaceful night sleep to shading me from the days warm sunshine. I'm not convinced of its meaning, but I am certain of the fatigue of failing to reach the pieces...

I watched a documentary on the misrepresentation of women through media just the other night. There's so much I want to teach the girls in my classroom. And when I look into the future, so much I want to teach my daughters. I want to teach them to chase their dreams and never, ever stop. And that it takes bravery and courage to always be kind and loving. It's not easy, but no good thing comes easy. And that there is only One who is faithful to the end and will carry us through, and for Him and with Him we can bust out of the mold and carve a new path. As I read through my blogger dashboard of recent blog posts I came across this inspiring entry from Emily T. Weirenga: A Woman's Manifesto (and launching A Dare to Love Yourself) As a woman living in the 21st century  I will live as though I have a thousand daughters,  even though I have none, because every girl is my daughter and when she sees me, or engages with me, she's looking to me for how to live.  S...

There are so many things about you I don't understand, but I believe. I keep moving forward when I'm holding your hand. I believe. The truest things I know are those I cannot see. From my birth to my dying day I believe. When I'm old I'll talk about the things that you have done. I believe. Brokenness made beautiful, the wars that you have won, and the storms you've calmed in me. The truest things I know are those I cannot see. From my birth to my dying day I believe. I'd rather have Jesus than houses or land. I'd rather be led by his nail-pierced hand. I'd rather have Jesus than anything. The truest things I know are those I cannot see. From my birth to my dying day I believe. - JJ Heller's new album "Loved" releases March 12

I love it when words start boiling in my heart. There's so much to be said, yet only so many words in my compacted vocabulary. Words come when I run without worrying who's watching, how much time I have or what my pace is. This morning was like that. The crystalized fields were reflecting the sun at 7:30AM, and seemed to be for my eyes only. In moments like that I'm reminded of the words from a TED talk by Elizabeth Gilbert ...   the American Poet Ruth Stone told me once that when she was growing up in rural Virginia, she would be out working in the fields, and she said she would feel and hear a poem coming at her from over the landscape. And she said it was like a thunderous train of air. And it would come barreling down at her over the landscape. And she felt it coming, because it would shake the earth under her feet. She  knew that she had only one thing to do at that point, and that was to, in her words, “run like hell.” And she would run like hell to the house and...