shouts of joy

I appreciate the act of acceptance. Just makes you feel bigger than before, brighter than before, like you have something to give. When you encounter a funny tattoo on a girls leg, and soon enough her smile relates to yours and the tattoo is part of a unique story that becomes your own and acceptance happens. When the truth of his story is revealed and before you can say another word you know by the depth in his eyes that his past is another life which he hardly recognizes and acceptance happens. When you sit down and focus on the eccentric young woman across from you and learn that her heart is more eccentric than her funky dress and layers of jewelry and that she speaks 4 languages to teach mothers in Africa about health and survival and somehow acceptance happens. Somehow the stories behind the frames can mold our perspectives. So often I feel that our outward appearances are overlooked and sadly what is stirring in our hearts is masked by the makeup, jewelry, colorful dresses, shap...

Here we are at #teachersummercamp. Two of my teacher friends, Sonya and Chelsea, also took summer classes this summer. Sonya is a teaching principal at a small school in Oakhurst, CA and Chelsea is a teacher/chaplain at a school in Sacramento, CA. They are some of the best teachers I know with huge hearts and a passion for teaching about Jesus. I have enjoyed our #teachersummercamp adventures even though Sonya was at another campus several hours away, we've kept in touch. And every Monday we share/exchange articles, YouTube videos, or stories that we found entertaining or intriguing. These two women have been lifesavers over the past year. We started #teachersummercamp 6 weeks ago and have finally finished. They will start school again in just a couple of weeks. I'm glad that they are allowing me to stay a member in the teaching club even though I will be taking classes this year and substituting instead of teaching full-time. They bring sunshine to a cloudy day. Bes...

It's late, some might say it's early, but my bedtime was hours ago and I'm so okay with that. This Sabbath was full. One of my favorite friends, Emily, is back in town and this morning we had coffee while sharing ideas about marriage, family, and weddings as she prepares to become a Mrs. My heart is so full for her. We laughed, cried and sipped our coffee then headed off to ReLive, the young adult church service. I hope married people are still allowed to attend the young peoples ReLive church. I know it's silly, but I ruminated on that thought today. I think they will. After church and a fun conversation at lunch about traveling we went to the beach and played in the saltwater until we were out of breath from fighting against the strong currents. We played some volleyball, a new game I'm learning called spikeball and talked about friends and family and the possible events of our ten year high school reunion that will take place in a couple short years. Tonight I...

--> This morning I drove toward the sun like a moth flies toward the lamp. I was reminded how gently the sun comes out everyday, so slow and patient. I lifted my hands up as I sang a song that has been my theme song lately, Brokenness Aside by All Sons and Daughters (if you haven't heard it, just Youtube it real quick). My word for the week is Gentle. I’ve challenged the young ladies in our Friday lunch book club to choose 1 word every week. 1 word in which we independently attempt to become more of every day. 1 word that might be challenging to put on every morning, but might add a sparkle to our wardrobe. They choose such hard words every week – Vulnerable, Inviting, Engage. The experiences they share when we meet every Friday are so fun. I’ve been so inspired by them. As the weeks begin their own dwindling spiral to a cliff’s edge, I have begun dwindling toward the edge of insanity. My mind cannot stop, I wake up at night recalculating the 1 million and 2 thing...

There are many days that go by that I wish my awkward teenage students would just sit down on the edge of their seats and selfishly drink in the words that I have to say. But not just take the words for what they are, but read in between the lines that will give a glimpse of my story. No,  our story. I wish they would read between the lines of a young 20-something girl who wakes up every day before the sun with a passion that she doesn't quite have figured out and goes to bed every night seemingly a failure, still unsure. But one thing she knows is that she wants to love consistently and be loved just the same, to have a family of 5 or 6, a devoted husband and a warm community to raise her children with, and most of all to understand the love and patience of the Savior. I wish they'd read in between about the girl who fights their same battles of accepting and loving herself before others, trusting the power of prayer, standing up for what is truth, living out grace, ...

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...

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...