Part 2: Part-Time Music Teacher, Full-Time…?

Part 2: September, 2015

Part 1, if you recall, was quite some time ago.  I've seen my friend the part-time music teacher a few times in the last many months, which gave her plenty of chances to tease me about where the Part 2 post telling the rest of her job story was.  She has a point.

To be honest, I think I was waiting for a triumphant, victorious Part 2 story to tell.  I wanted to tell how her patience and faithfulness had literally paid off, how she'd gotten a full-time job with a bright future and a good salary, and how life suddenly made sense.

I didn't want to tell how she had interviewed for some full-time teaching jobs and seen them given to other people, or how the grocery store she worked at to make up the rest of her income had closed, leaving her to learn the feelings that go with phrases like "severance package" and "termination date."

I didn't want to tell that story.  That story frustrated me, confused me, and hurt me on behalf of my friend.  I didn't want to wonder with her how ends would meet until the school year started again, or why nothing seemed to be improving.

But the girl living that story has kept after me to tell it, so I must have something to learn.  Good thing she's a teacher.

"This is my third year in the same school--that's kind of cool!" she said.  "It's a safe place to get better, and I wouldn't find that everywhere.  In my first year of teaching, I saw God provide what I needed at the time, and last year, I saw the confidence He's building in me, so I was able to face new issues I couldn't have handled before."

When people (like me) are discouraged on her behalf, she's not.  "You know, I've never been alone.  God has not left me on my own, even literally--He gave me me a close friend at the grocery store who went through the same situation I did when it closed.  And He provided a job right when I needed it to fill in that gap, and I know He is working.  I don't love working two jobs, but it's cool to be part of what God is doing!  I know I'm planting a lot of seeds.  It's been crazy, but really cool!"

As we talk, I can see that it's true.  She has found genuine joy where I would be frustrated, and she has looked for and found God to be working when things feel stagnant.  She has refused to pity herself and decided instead to be faithful to her God and the steps in front of her.  Let that sink in for a moment.

And so I understand why her story needs to be told.  If I simply observe without listening, I can draw my own superficial conclusions.  I will miss the blessing.  I will conclude with frustration, but Laura concludes with joy and strength and excitement and love for those around her, whom she would never have known apart from this story.

When I listen, I see this: A faithful friend and worker.  More than a conqueror.  Trust and confidence in Jesus, with roots that have grown patiently deep.

"God has promised me Psalm 121, that I'll be blessed when I come in and when I go out.  And I'm doing that every single day!" she said, and showed me the inscription she put in her lesson planner.  This girl is far richer than I realize, and the story isn't nearly over.

Part 1: Part-Time Music Teacher, Full-Time Adult

This weekend, a former college roommate and very good friend of mine is coming to visit. She's been my most frequent houseguest since I moved to D.C., and houseguests seem to inspire me to write blog posts. Maybe it's because I really enjoy having people over, or maybe it's because my friends tend to be rather inspiring people.  

Regardless, both of those things are true, and even more regardless (that doesn't make much sense, but you get the idea), I realized I had started a nice post about this particular friend almost exactly a year ago. It still has some things worth saying, and I think that makes it worth posting. I'll give you a Part 2 post after this weekend, once I've had plenty of hours to catch up on her life and grill her for deep thoughts and godly wisdom from the past year.

Part 1: September, 2013

A good friend of mine just started a new job, and she called me the other day to talk about it. She is a music teacher, and after substitute teaching for a while after college, she just got hired at a small private school. Wonderful, right? Yes!

But at the same time, no. It wasn't at all what she expected, and on the surface, it wasn't in that wow-it's-so-much-better-than-I-could've-imagined kind of way. She's in charge of her own music program, but because it's a small school, it's only a few days a week, and she has to work part-time on top of this to make up the difference in salary. In other words, she has the long-term responsibility of a whole music program but only a few days a week in which to work this musical magic, and a second, unrelated job is sucking away her time. It's not quite the career track she had envisioned as a bright-eared vocal music major.

"But you know what?" she said, "I've been praying about all of this for a long time. I know this is what God has for me now, even though it's not how I wanted teaching to go, and I wish I didn't have to work two jobs. I know there will be unexpected hard things, but there will be unexpected good things too, so I can follow Jesus here."

She told me about talking to a younger girl about careers and such things recently, a girl who's a junior in college and itching to get out and on with life. "I told her to enjoy the rest of college and not wish it away, because life gets weird when you grow up. Not worse, but definitely weird!" And I agree. I love post-college life, and I'm glad to be at least a little more grown up (I hope) than I was then. But things certainly can get weird, and I'm not sure anything exactly prepares us for that.

Back to my friend. After only two weeks, she was scheduled to direct her first concert, which would be a daunting prospect even with months of rehearsals. Thankfully, it was for Grandparents' Day at school, so she had a crowd that's naturally inclined to enjoy children's singing. At the end of the concert, as everyone was leaving, several of the grandmas came up to thank her for the concert, and one of them said with a big smile, "Bangin' program, baby!"

So, sometimes things do not go the way we expect. Sometimes a very clear step is followed by a very confusing step, but sometimes God takes a sledgehammer to the wall in front of us and suddenly there's a door we didn't see coming. And sometimes, we meet hip and friendly grandmothers who have the surprisingly perfect encouragement we need to keep going.

His master said to him, "Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; 

I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master."

Matthew 25:23

Guinea Pigs and Unexpected Friendships

This past weekend, two sweet friends came to visit me. One I knew in college, and one I didn't know at all. They came to DC to see a musical at the National Theatre on Friday, so I joined them for the show, and they stayed at my house until Saturday evening.   In the process, they got to be guinea pigs of my hospitality.  I think I talk to a lot of people about hospitality.  I love having friends around, and I'd like to be good at it one day, so I'm trying to figure all of that out.  Thank you, guinea pig friends, for your patience.

When we got home from the theater, we stayed up talking for a while with one of my roommates. "How long have you guys known each other?" she asked. "Three years," said my friend from college.   "Three days!" said the other girl, and my roommate looked surprised. "Probably not even. We just met once a few months ago."

In a small way, this girl was a guinea pig in the area of showing hospitality to strangers (as per Hebrews 13:2).  Although we'd heard stories about each other and weren't exactly strangers, it was close enough, but we had a lovely time.  The other girl, my friend from college, has visited and endured being a hospitality guinea pig before, and we reminisced a little.  She is one of my most unlikely friends.  We had some mutual friends in the music department when I was finishing college, and she kind of adopted me and my roommate as her older sisters.

This wouldn't have been my first choice, as she knows, and we laugh about it now. She's quite a chatterbox and would often launch into monologues that didn't make much sense outside her own brain, and it wore me out more often than not.  I found her a bit annoying and immature.

But she also chose to trust me, out of no awesomeness of my own, and I learned to make room in my heart for this friend. I learned a lot from her, actually.  She remembers and cares about even the tiniest things about her friends, and she is quick to love nearly anyone who comes across her path.  I learned that it's no light thing to be trusted, even if I wasn't looking for it.  I learned that I can't just assume I will automatically be a sweet and loving friend all the time if I'm not grounded in how much and how immensely God loves.

I learned that my immaturities are on their brightest display when I start to look down on someone else's.  I learned that there are always reasons behind the story I see on someone's surface, and while they may be deeper than I want to handle, they will never be stronger than the love of Jesus.  I learned that love really is patient and kind, and if I want to be a loving friend, then I better learn to be tenaciously patient and valiantly kind.

I also learned that my first impressions are not always accurate, and I can find good friends in surprising places if I am willing to get over myself and look there.  I probably can't begin to count the people who got...ahem...less-than-stellar first impressions of me but kindly overlooked them. I learned that hospitality means space in my heart and generosity with my time more than it means extra plates at dinner or clean sheets for the spare bed.

Above all, I've learned that friendship is not about me at all, and I will never be a good friend if I think it is. But if I'm willing to love a friend the way she needs it, with the love that God is constantly showing me, it has a way of making me happy too. In other words, "If we love one another, God abides, lives, and remains in us, and His love (that love which is essentially His) is brought to completion, to its full maturity, runs its full course, is perfected in us!" (1 John 4:12, Amplified).

Three years of friendship later, I think we've both grown up a bit, but I'm still finding plenty of things to learn.  Over the summer, I got an email from her that ended with this, so I will end with it too: "It's reminding me to give all of the love that has been lavished on me out to others. It should be a challenge to see how much love can you give out in a day. That would be fun."

A Year and a Little More Rain Later

Here is the most recent picture of me and my brother Philip.  Lovely, isn't it?  My mom took it the last time we were all together in early July, and we weren't ready for it.  There's something I like about this picture, though.  There we are, standing together and looking a little bit weird.  That's pretty normal, I suppose, so it makes me smile and miss my brother.  He has also stood beside me during much more serious things that I was not ready for, so I can let it remind me of some poignant memories if I want to, and that makes me miss him even more.

But I'm not writing about my brother today.  This morning, I was not ready for the rain that caught me on my way to work.  It didn't last long, but it was just enough to make me regret wearing my hair down.  It was also just enough to make me think of Philip, who loves rainy days.

But I'm not writing about my brother today.  A year ago, I told you about my odd fascination with taking pictures like this:

And this:

For whatever reason, orphaned umbrellas like this catch my eye, so my camera lens catches them.  You're welcome to read what I wrote about that here, if you'd like.  My brother did and said he liked it, but I'm not writing about him today.

After my umbrella post, I stopped any semblance of blog writing for work-related reasons, and once those reasons no longer mattered, I never picked it up again.  I didn't think anyone would really care, but my big brother, who has always taken good care of me, noticed and said he missed it.  Over the last several weeks, he's been gently encouraging me to do some writing.  I would usually say something like, "thanks!  Yeah, I should really do that," throw a few sentences together, and never finish anything.

A week or two later, he would mention it again and tell me he missed my writing.  With a few minor exceptions--like the day when we were little and he suggested I touch an electric fence--I'm always glad when I listen to my brother, and I began to think that maybe I should listen again.

So I am taking my brother's advice, but I don't have a whole lot to say yet.  I suppose I could write about him, but I'm not doing that today.  All the creativity I have left for now is one final broken umbrella photo, and I will leave it at that.

Enjoy.

Saved for a Rainy Day

I got caught in the rain on my way home today. It was that tricky sort of rain that starts out gently but throws you off by suddenly taking its job seriously. After about 40 seconds of lazy drizzle, it became a deluge that left me absolutely drenched after the 8-minute walk between my house and the metro station. I didn't really mind, because I was headed home so it didn't really matter how my hair looked, and there were dry clothes waiting for me there. What else is there to worry about?

So I enjoyed it. I always love a good storm or a nice rainy day, and this one was beautiful, with a cool breeze to go along with it. It watered my little herb garden nicely, and somehow that inspired me to try reviving my poor withering blog, so here I am. I don't want to get too ambitious, so instead of tackling my general love for rainy days, let's focus on umbrellas. Even more specifically, broken umbrellas.

Umbrellas can be so beautiful, and I love the color they add to a gray day. Crowds carrying umbrellas always have a busy, sparkly look to them that I enjoy. For some reason, though, I also enjoy taking pictures of broken umbrellas, and my friends and family have kindly stopped to wait for me while I snap pictures of garbage in the middle of a downpour. Walk through the city on a good, rainy day, and soggy umbrella carcasses are everywhere.

They seem to be the only type of trash that's exempt from all litter rules. Once an umbrella breaks, it somehow becomes completely acceptable to just throw it to the ground in frustration, no matter where you are. Right in the middle of the street? Doesn't matter. There's a trash can five feet away? Doesn't matter. My umbrella broke, so I'm ditching it right here, right now. I can't have such a horrible thing in my hand one second longer.

That seems to be the attitude, and the faithful souls who give their umbrellas a respectful farewell in a trash can are few. I don't know if it's a subtle comment on cheap commercialism in the back of my mind, or something a little bit funny about the shameless way we abandon our umbrellas in utter digust when they've outlived themselves.

Either way, I always see something artistic in these poor broken wings. Here are a few umbrella shots that seemed worth sharing on a freshly-watered Tuesday evening, and I'm sure these won't be the last that I take.

My DC Experiment

A year ago this week, I moved to the Washington, DC area for three months.  Three months later, I moved to DC again, and here I still am.

(That's last year.  No cherry blossoms for a few more weeks!)

I originally came when a family friend recommended me for an internship, which led into a real job that practically applied for me, instead of me for it.  I had nowhere to live and wouldn't have come, if not for a friend in the area that I barely knew (at the time), who happened to know someone with an available and affordable room for rent.  My parents helped me pay for living expenses during the unpaid internship, and while the car I drive and the bed I sleep in belong to me, they were both gifts from some generous friends.


A few months in, when I was still in DC but needed a new place to live, God gave me a miraculous little house and some slightly wonderful roommates.  That's more of a story that I will tell another time, but I live in a little brick reminder of the fact that every part of my time in DC has been a gift.  My whole life is a gift from God, I know, and I don't want to make light of that, but it's been particularly obvious that my being here now is just one gift after another.  Each person and each place--it's almost funny how many doors the Lord opened that I didn't even know were there!  This is not at all what I expected to be doing this year, but it's great!

Yet sometimes I find myself wondering what I'm doing here, and why.  Wondering so hard that it wells up in my eyes and pours down my face--not because things are going badly, but simply because I do not know.  This isn't what I expected to do, so I can't see where it's going, and that scares me if I let it.

But God, my wonderful Father who loves me, reminds me of Himself.  He lets me look back at all of these gifts, at all the tiny threads He has woven together this far and I am amazed.  Only He knows how to weave our lives together, and I sit overwhelmed by how tiny I am in the fabric that's being made, and yet how specific He is in caring for me.

I look at my tiny little self in that picture He is making, in the one corner of it that I can see.  I feel like I don't know anything, and I really can't even do much, but isn't that good for me!  When I can see what I don't know, I'm quicker to see what He is doing.  Maybe you are not like this, but sometimes I get distracted by myself and need to be shocked back into the reality that I'm not that great.  Not in a self-deprecating or poor-me way, but truly recognizing that the best of me can't even begin to compare to the shadow of God's greatness.  And this is good!  He is truly, completely, nothing missing and always enough for me, and that makes me love my smallness, which lets me sink in and enjoy how much better God is than I would be.


And all of this came out of my one year anniversary with this city.  I used to think I might end up in DC one day, in some vague, far-off future thought.  I didn't know how long I would come or what I would do here or when, but suddenly, by no plan I made, DC is now in my present.  And it's still a little vague to me, but that's okay, because I couldn't have figured it out this far by myself anyway.  I would quite literally not be here now if I were on my own, but my God who knows how to guide and give so perfectly is with me, and He does not change.  In everything I don't know, He brings me back to things I do know, like this:

This I know, that God is for me.

In God, whose word I praise,

In the Lord, whose word I praise,

In God I have put my trust, I shall not be afraid (Psalm 56:9-11)

A month ago at this time...

Happy February!  Among other things, February means I can flip a calendar page and have new pictures of my cute nieces to look at for the next few weeks.*  But I'm not ready to write about February yet, even though we're a week into it already.  January felt about seven weeks long this year (in a good way!), so I'm still going to write about it...and a few days of December.

A little over a month ago, I walked off a plane and found myself in Thailand.  Yes, I knew I was going there, but in the hazy oblivion that is travel, time loses its identity and somehow so does everything else.  We just went 8,000 miles over the world's largest ocean in the last few hours?  Of course we did.  12 hours just vanished because we crossed an invisible line of longitude?  Of course they did.  So, we time-traveled?  I think that back when travel involved sails and weeks instead of wings and hours, you could really comprehend how far you had gone.  Now I can just take a few naps, tell the friendly flight attendant whether I'd like beef with rice or chicken with pasta--and suddenly I step out of my travel-induced haze onto the other side of the world.  Of course.

This was my first venture into Asia, and I had a blast!  I love new places, new sounds and people and everyday details that could escape my notice, but make up the rhythm and breath of a country.  I met some delicious new kinds of fruit, tried to bargain at the markets, practiced saying "thank you" in Thai, lost my voice and hoped people would understand me anyway.  I wished for the first time in my life that I had a motorbike to ride around on, and tried not to offend anyone with my feet or clothing.  I smiled a lot, bowed occasionally, and wished I could stay longer. 

But above all, I got to enjoy God's people.  I'm amazed at what He can do despite time, distance, culture, language, and all of those things that I can't control or really even understand.  I'm so glad God is bigger than all of it!  Even the reason I was in Thailand is wonderfully confusing:  I was there for the wedding of an American friend that I met a few years ago while we both lived in Austria; she and her new husband are now missionaries in Thailand, and he is from Australia.

So it took four continents to get me there, and I was just one of the many guests.  Those two vibrant children of God brought people from all over the world for their wedding, and we whirled around for two weeks of wonderful chaos (check out that W alliteration...I wasn't even trying).  I only knew the bride and one other girl at the beginning of the trip, but this eclectic group of wedding guests was there for so much more, and the way our God wove our lives together, even for such a short time, was something only He can do.  We laughed and prayed and encouraged and challenged each other, and the love of Jesus just poured and squeezed out all through that group.

We spent some fleeting but great time with the kids my friends teach; we saw their school, took them to climb a waterfall, and took them out to dinner.  One girl was my pal for the week; we talked about our families, sang, and I asked her to teach me a few words in her language and gave her and the other kids plenty to laugh about as I tried to learn.  When we went to dinner, she had me try almost everything on the buffet, and I'm still not sure of all the things that ended up in my stomach that day, but they were delicious!

   

I wish I could describe all of this better; I feel like I'm only hitting bits and pieces of this trip and missing the depth, but there's really not enough space or time for that. I can't think of a better way to have started my year, and I'm still enjoying it, even being back home in my normal routine.  I don't want to let anything get too normal, though, and I'm so in awe of the God who has designed our lives and perfectly woven us into what He is doing.  He sends us out with His love and His word, and that's a powerful combination if we're willing to follow Him.  Nothing is insignificant--He can use a second or a word or a friend of a friend, or He can use decades, conversations, and families to draw people to know Him.  I love it!

I haven't put any pictures of the wedding or school up here for security and such things, but here's a random unrelated Thai wedding that I ran into while visiting the Grand Palace in Bangkok.

Please pray for my friends' ministry and for that part of the world.  There was such a spiritual urgency there, and I can't wait to see more of what God is doing.
You can check out the ministry's website here: http://helpsavethekids.org/


When I was leaving the wedding, which was the last day we saw the school kids, I got to spend a little more time with the girl who was my buddy and language teacher.  When it was time to go she gave me a big hug and said, "see you...see you..." then shouted something to the other kids, one of whom shouted back, "heaven!"  She smiled.  "See you in heaven!" 

*For more on the ridiculous cuteness of my nieces and other fun stuff, visit my sister's blog here: http://cariboucastle.blogspot.com/