Puzzle Pieces

Sometimes others have the words that your own heart is so desperately trying to speak.

In her blog post “When Your Life Feels a Bit Like A Puzzle” Ann Voskamp has put words to the many beats of my heart.

Ann’s own journey knows, all too well, the puzzling truths of depression and anxiety. She knows the despair and the darkness of the battlefield and she knows the only battleplan that can truly conquer.

She has captured so much of my heart that I simply wanted to share it with all of you. Enjoy! 

I Will Remember

It is hard to believe that it has almost been a month since we drove the seventeen hours to this new town. One month since the last play dates with best friends were played. One month since we hugged the closest of friends and we were covered in prayer. One month since we waved goodbye to our family and drove down the street.  

Leaving was hard – a lot harder than I ever expected. I miss my mom, my friends, my church. I miss easy conversations and spur of the moment play dates. I miss knowing how to get to the grocery store and the kids schools. I really, really miss knowing how to get back home.

I still yearn for the familiar.

This past month has been simply a blur.

We camped, organized utilities and house insurance, got our vehicles inspected and insured (what a pain that process was), took possession of our new home, moved into the main floor of our home and then a week later moved the rest of our stuff into the basement, vacuumed, scrubbed and organized a neglected woodshop, drove around town registering for after-school activities, attended two different churches, began a new school year, started the process of transforming a house into a home and, this past weekend, we adopted a 3-year old neglected puppy into our family.

Yet, amidst all of that craziness there has been such blessing. God blessed us with a house builder who was willing to work with my west coast style and who worked so hard to get us into our home quickly. We were blessed to meet the children’s teachers before the school year started and both appeared to be a great fit for their individual personalities. God blessed us with neighbors who have children the exact same age as our children – all of whom run from yard to yard playing with one another. He blessed us by allowing us to see another piece of His amazing creation. And of course, the reason we are in this town, God blessed us with the most perfect job, school division and staff for my husband – he truly comes home from work happy and excited for the next day.

However, there are still those moments when loneliness and anxiety and worry seep into my bones and I begin to question God’s plans. We are yet to feel that we have found a church that we can truly call home and that is hard for me – I am craving the fellowship that comes with a home church. Staff and church fall kick-off parties are nothing less than awkward when you know not a single soul. And then there is the unfulfilled need and desire to fill my home with friends. I love a house full of friends; whether, it is for tea and coffee or dinner or one of our gatherings of 50 or 60 people. I want these walls to absorb the laughter and joy of loving friendships. 

When these moments of loneliness, anxiety and worry hit I forget that I pray to a fully capable and powerful God. I forget all that He has done and will continue to do in our lives. I forget the greatness of Him.

I forget rather than remember.

Like the Israelites I forget. I forget the miraculous signs in Egypt - the bloody river, the swarms of flies and hoards of frogs, the locusts and hail, and the grace of Passover. I forget the parted sea, the cloud and the pillar of fire, the rocks overflowing with water, the manna and fallen birds that sustained and momentarily satisfied. I forget the Holy Land and each nation that was driven out. I forget His grace.

God longs for us to remember - that we would always see His hand at work in our lives. Receiving all that He gives as grace. 

And so I remember His works and the wonders He has bestowed upon my family.

I purposefully remember the words He spoke to me three years ago when He told me that I could live anywhere as long as I always lived with Him. I remember the darkness and, more importantly, the brightness of His Light the moment I first believed. I remember the friends and community that He poured into my life. I remember the gentle loosening of a mother-daughter bond; which gave me the courage to fly. I remember how, in trials, He strengthened my husband’s faith; creating a man whom is leading his family closer to Christ. I remember how He prevented me from returning to teaching when the timing was not part of His plan and I remember how He provided comfort and counsel when I felt as though I had failed. I remember how he drew my husband and I away from our small group and into a Bible study that we completed together – allowing us to grow stronger as a couple and closer to Him. I remember how desire ceased for camping and other summer activities; and yet, how He provided one last trip along the Pacific Ocean with the best of friends. I remember how He secured us the perfect home and how He made the sale of our old home so very quick. I remember the perfectness of the job posting and the joy that filled our home the night my husband accepted that job offer. I remember the prayers that were answered as He prepared our children for the move that was before us. Yes, I remember all the prayers that He answered that led us to this very place.

I know the day will come when this town will truly feel like home. A day when everything will be familiar and our lives will be blessed with friendships and community. A day when we will see what God, Himself, saw all along.

To remember is to glorify Him– to show the world His goodness. As a couple, we are committed to always remembering (and sharing) how God has worked in our lives and by His grace continues to work.

“We will not hide these truths from our children; we will tell the next generation about the glorious deeds of the LORD, about His power and His mighty wonders” (Psalms 78:4)

We Are Moving

We are moving!

God has decided to uproot these four hearts and transplant them nearly two provinces over. We will be leaving everything that is familiar and landing in the completely unfamiliar. When we pull into our new hometown there will be no family close by, no grandparents to babysit and no friends to visit with. It means a new church, new schools, new doctors, new grocery stores, new hairdressers and new afterschool activities. It even means a new climate – a much, much colder climate!

This move is an answer to prayer; albeit a much different answer than I originally expected when I started praying.

I married a man who loves teaching woodshop. Amongst the machines, tools, drawings and sawdust is where his passion lies. Yet, for two years, I have watched his woodshop course load be arbitrarily cut in half. I have watched as he was told that his program has no value. I have watched as his ideas and visions were quickly dismissed. And finally, this year I watched as he learned through an e-mail memo that his program was completely cut from the school offerings.

With each storm my heart broke a little more. I prayed so hard for administrative eyes to be opened, for my husband to find joy in a different content area and for a new woodshop position to open up in the district. But, God was not answering those prayers.

The prayer He did answer though was when I asked Him to prepare my heart and mind for what He had planned. Yes, God got right to work on that prayer. 

Before I knew it, God had me encouraging my husband to look at positions outside my comfort zone. I told him I was willing to move anywhere in the country so he could have the opportunity to teach what he loved.

At first there appeared to be nothing that was the right fit for our family. God would shine lights in different areas, but quickly those lights would be extinguished.

We had now reached a point where we were not sure if my husband would even have a contract position in the fall if we were to stay with our current school district. That after thirteen years of working for the same school district on a continuing contract there was a good chance that he would be on the substitute teacher list. It seemed absolutely ludicrous, but it was the reality that we were facing.

Just when everything seemed so dire, when we felt so helpless, when the anger was beginning to swell that was when God revealed Himself once again.

God posted a full-time continuing (we couldn’t uproot our children for a temporary position), high school (oh how my husband wanted to be back in a high school after eleven years in a middle school) woodshop (yes, only woodshop – you just don’t see that in our part of the country) position in a good community (a town with some decent shopping, good schools and more than a 1000 people).

My husband was excited and I was so excited to see him finally excited. And I felt a peace that can only come from God.

As I looked at the qualifications next to my husband’s resume I had this feeling that God had literally taken that resume and rewrote it in the form of the qualifications list. I knew the moment the application was sent that we would be moving.

The posting closed on Thursday. The human resources director had a 45-minute phone discussion with my husband on Friday. There was a Skype interview on Monday. And the position was offered and accepted Tuesday evening. 

In a five-day whirlwind our lives changed and we were finally able to see what God could see all along. 

Our journey with Christ continues. 

Just Let Go

My blogging most certainly has gone through a drought season these past few months. It is hard to believe that it was January when I last posted! Back then I talked about my first day back in the classroom after a three-year absence – I shared everything from the anticipatory anxiety I experienced to the hope that comes with trusting Christ.  

Over these past four months, God has given our family both wonderful blessings and fierce trials; and yet, blogging those moments simply has not happened. I do, however, hope to share some of those moments soon.  

So here I sit at my computer screen once again.

I am hesitant to even write.

My heart is torn and my mind is confused.

As I write this post, I will probably feel like failure and sadness, hope and humility have all been bundled into a single parcel. But, I need to and, more importantly, want to share this piece of my journey. So here it goes …

At the beginning of this month, I came to the realization that the return-to-work plan was simply not going as so many of us had hoped and prayed. 

The amount of time I spent in the classroom had not increased over the four months. The fatigue was unbearable despite only being there two hours a week. The panic attacks had returned. The depression was seeping back into my life. As the depression worsened I would stay in bed all day, miss commitments I truly enjoyed, isolate myself from family and friends, sob uncontrollably and be incredibly irritable and frustrated.

The familiarity of this path scared me for I knew, all too well, the consequences of such pain. At first, I simply ignored the pain – praying that it would get better. Eventually it was pride that kept me returning to the school each week. I didn’t want to admit to myself or anyone else that I was failing this challenge. In the final weeks I went only because I didn’t know how to stop. 

But, throughout all the denial and fear I still constantly prayed. I knew I needed God’s guidance, help and strength. I needed to hear His clear and decisive voice. I needed to know how to avoid the darkness. I needed to know if I belonged in the classroom. I needed to know that if I were to leave the classroom I was doing so according to His will and not my fears.

Then one morning, as I called out to Him in prayer, I heard God speak. Ever so quietly and lovingly I heard Him say, “Just let go” - so simple, peaceful, merciful and sincere – just as James describes His voice and wisdom:

“But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere.” (James 3:17)

As I allowed those simple words - “let go” - flow through me I experienced the peace that God promises,

 “And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:7)

Yes, I was finally filled with a peace that can only come from God.

Accepting the reality that I may never walk back into the classroom, as a teacher, has very been difficult. Being a teacher has been a huge part of my identity.  Even during these past three years, I would always refer to myself as a “teacher on leave”.

But, how I define myself is changing. And as Christ and I walk through this transition, it is the promise of Isaiah 41:10 that is being etched onto my heart:

“So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

I may no longer be an elementary teacher, but I will be strengthened, helped and upheld by the righteous right hand of God! And that is an amazing promise!

I know that exiting the classroom was an act of obedience to God. I truly believe that the depression, panic attacks and fatigue were God’s way of saying that I was not in the center of His will. He showed me how painful life was going to be if I continued to let fear and pride direct my life rather than Him.

As I make this next transition all my trust is solely in Him. I don’t know what the future holds for me in terms of a career, but I do know that God’s timing and plans are perfect. Through prayer and scripture I will seek Him everyday knowing that, when the time is right, His tender voice will once again direct my steps.  Perhaps I will in fact return to the classroom as a teacher, perhaps I will return to the education system in a different capacity or perhaps I will be in an entirely different field; regardless of what eventually unfolds, I do find peace in knowing that God is preparing my path.

"No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him." (1 Corinthians 2:9)

A Journey Back to the Classroom

Just under three years ago I made one of the hardest decisions of my life. I accepted the pain of my reality and with a broken and humble heart I decided to pause my teaching career. I knew I was no longer the teacher I needed to be or what my students deserved. The joy, I once felt from being with all those tender hearts, was no longer with me. I had become a textbook and worksheet teacher. I barked orders rather than guided growing minds. I was void of patience and love. And I knew that each and every one of those students deserved better. I deserved better. My family deserved better.

Thus, with my husband by my side and tears rolling down my cheek I asked my family doctor to put me on medical leave. For me, work was the last remaining realm of my life that said to the world, "I’m okay." It was the last layer of the mask that needed to be pulled away. With that decision I felt so vulnerable and exposed. With that medical note in my hand, it was an admission to myself, my family, my friends and my colleagues just how deep and debilitating that pain really was.

And so began a three year journey. A journey that was much, much longer than I ever expected. When I first asked for that leave I thought I would be out of the classroom for three to six weeks, but never three years.

For the past year I have played with the thought of slowly returning to teaching. Yet, my heart has been torn. Each time a return to work plan has been put in place I have become overwhelmed and paralyzed with fear – fear that I will fail, fear that I won’t feel the joy I once felt, fear that I will relapse, fear my family will be negatively affected, fear that perhaps teaching is not God’s plan for me.

But fear is the exact opposite of faith – isn’t it?

So this past Monday, I courageously put my faith in my Savior and entered the classroom for the first time in three years. It was not my own classroom, but rather a colleague’s grade-four classroom in another school. But, I was introduced as a teacher, not as a parent. I will be taking baby steps as I build up my stamina by simply being in the classroom and helping students for a couple of hours once a week. Slowly I will add more time and eventually more responsibility. My goal, God willing, is to be in my own classroom, once a week, by September.

On Monday, I was filled with so much anxiety that it physically hurt. True to habit, I puked on the drive there – sometimes anxiety just needs to come out! But, I got myself there. I walked into the school. I signed in and got my volunteer badge. I walked into the classroom. I was introduced to the students. Those steps appear so minor for they were once so mundane for me, but on Monday they were mountains and Jesus and I conquered them.

When I got into the classroom my nerves began to settle. God’s grace has placed the sweetest little boy in that classroom. His spirit shines, but academically he struggles with attention, reading and writing. This boy and I have already become friends as I read with him, scribe for him and redirect his attention – already I have a purpose within those four walls. God is good!

I planned to stay one hour and forty-five minutes – until recess started – and I made it! I was exhausted beyond words (this coming from someone who expects to be exhausted) and my head was pounding when I left. But, I did it!

This incredible journey, that has Christ by my side, is continuing – all the way back into the classroom.

“Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 1:6)