Adventurer's Log #10: Miss S Agrees to a Name Change

Mrs. Charming.

That has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

Speaking of ring, have I mentioned that I'm sporting a rather gorgeous one on a somewhat important finger?

Almost two and a half years ago I started a blog.  It was entitled "Annals of a Christian Single."  I was tired of living in small towns where people acted as though something was wrong with you because you were in your mid- to late-twenties and unmarried.  Because you wanted to go to university and attain a profession. 

I had been in seven weddings and received more than enough comments about the movie Twenty-Seven Dresses.  I have a closet containing all seven dresses, ranging from red velvet to hot pink to black.

Friends tried to set me up with people.  My life seemed to be one humorous story after another as I began to embrace my singleness.

A year and a half ago something interesting happened.

I commented on a friend's status on Facebook one day, and found that one of this friend's friends commented back.  Only his comment was directed at me.

So we commented back and forth.

Which drove my friend crazy.

I actually met this person at a wedding a few years earlier.  Okay, I claim they were pointed out to me and that was it.  He claims we talked.

Apparently I left an impression on him.

It didn't take long before this person added me on Facebook.  Sounds silly, I know, but what ensued was three months where any status I updated, and comment I made on a friend's wall, was followed by this person.  I returned home to work for the summer and was bombarded with questions about this person's identity.  All I knew was that we had met at a wedding a few years before and they were known by their friends as being a bit of a flirt.

One day I decided to send this person a private message on Facebook.  I loved the battles of wit we would enter into, and did not want to lose that, but was also a little concerned about the attention his attentions were drawing. 

Email became back and forth conversations from the time I got off work until he went to bed at night (we had to deal with a three hour time difference).

This soon turned into texting which would occur all day.

Texting then developed into Skype dates.

Then something happened.

This person, this man, informed me he had bought a ticket to come and spend ten days with me.  He was serious about wanting to pursue a relationship with me.

I was scared.  My last relationship had been a long distance thing that had begun online.  When the guy met me in person he wanted nothing to do with me.

That takes a toll on a girl.

But this guy was adamant that that would not happen.

So he came.  I was sick the days before his arrival, convinced he would step off the plane, take one look at me, and turn the other way.

But he didn't.

I had to finish school out here in BC.  He was in Ontario.  But we decided to do the long distance thing.  I was convinced he would discover just how insecure and needy I can be, just how flawed and imperfect I really am, and would realize he should just run.

But he didn't.

In April, I was offered a full-time teaching job.  In BC.  Away from him for another year.  I thought maybe then he would decide it would be too much work.

But he didn't.

This last weekend I went home to my parents' for Thanksgiving and this man, my Mr. Charming, flew up for the weekend to spend it with us.  On Saturday afternoon we went for a fall walk along the river, just the two of us.

After pausing on a bridge, I turned and discovered him lowering himself down onto one knee, ring proffered in his hands, asking me to marry him.

I'm in awe.

This really happened.

This ring is really on my hand and I really get to marry the man I love.  The man who challenges me to be a better person.  The man who loves me, flaws and all.

So here's to being blessed beyond description.

And here's to getting to become Mrs. Charming ;)

Adventurer's Log #9: Miss S meets a Menopausal Woman and Rises from the Ashes

I was social this weekend.

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...

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The dramatic pause was so you could all applause, just so you know.

Yesterday I went for lunch with friends, and was then invited to another friend's house for appetizers and games.  Which is where our story begins ;)

My job was to bring the wine last night.  So prior to heading to my friend's place I stopped by the store.

Before going any farther, I should probably clarify that I don't drink that much or very often.  I can count on two fingers the number of times I have bought alcohol for myself.  I enjoy a glass of wine, but when I drink it, it is always bought for me.

Which created quite the dilemma for myself last night.  What bottle was I supposed to get?

So while wandering the aisles attempting to look like the pro I am not, a woman (and the only other customer in the store at that point), strikes up a conversation with me.  She tells me about the vineyards she visited with her husband this summer, how her husband is working that night, and that she just needs a bottle of good white wine to curl up with.  I smile, nod in feigned understanding, and finally state that I have no idea what I'm looking for. 

After announcing that she used to always drink red wine until menopause hit last year and reds started to disagree with her, she helped me find something to bring to my gathering.

The man in the line-up after me told me I had picked well :)

Which brings me to this morning.  How, I'm not quite sure, but I couldn't think of any other way to make the transition!

So I went to church today.  Shocking, I know.

I realized something last week, which I shared with you guys, about how I have some baggage in my life when it comes to the whole church situation.

Mr. Charming and I had a talk this summer about dealing with issues.  How people often only want to deal with symptoms of their problems, and not with the problem itself.

For example, I have come to realize I am an incredibly insecure person.  And to be honest, I would much rather just have people affirm me and tell me they love me when I feel insecure.  I don't want to actually work at working through the insecurity.

But I need to.

I have had a church experience that has left me guarded and at times (more often than I care to admit) cynical.  I would much rather go to church but remain guarded, wary, and continue to distrust those around me until such a time as I find a "good" church. 

But I can't do that.

Once the music started this morning I knew I was in for it.  There was no avoiding God.

The second song we sang was "Our God" by Chris Tomlin.  The second verse goes:

"Into the darkness You shine,
Out of the ashes we rise,
There's no one like You,
None like You."

I suppose you could say that between my insecurity and my church complex I feel like I'm a pretty big mess.  Like at times my life and security have been destroyed.  Burned down, if you will.

And I'm left somewhere in the heap of the ashes.

Yesterday and today when I went for my runs I was listening to a podcast by Tim Keller, the pastor at Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Manhattan and the man who is hailed as the C.S. Lewis of our day.  It had to do with the "Our Father" of the Lord's prayer.  Keller talked about how we often view our relationship with God as a business transaction.  God is our Creator and our Savior.

Yet the Bible also talks about how we have been adopted.

We are His Children.

Keller makes the remark that the only person who dares to wake up the king in the middle of the night for a glass of water is the king's child.

He talks about how we are to petition God.  He mentions men like Abraham and Moses who pushed and argued and begged.

As we sang "Our God" in church this morning I began to realize something.

I had come to the conclusion that insecurity and church frustrations would never go away.  That I will always be as insecure as I am now and that I will always be guarded in church.

And because of this, I have not asked God to help me work through these issues as much as I should have.

I have been content to sit in my ashes, to look at the continual reminders of my hurt and pain.

But that is not what God has called me to do.

He wants to help me rise from the ash heap.

Have things happened that have helped to make me insecure?  Have things happened that make my wary of certain things at church?

Yes.

Am I all of a sudden going to forget about those?

No.

And you know what, I probably never will.

But those things do not run my life.

Is everything going to be perfect now?

I wish!

There will still be times when I look back to the ruins.  When I even, though it is twisted and even sick, wish for the familiarity of my ashes.

But I'm tired of being that person.

I'm tired of allowing frustration, offense, hurt, and rejection to run my life.  I'm tired of allowing people and events in the past to have this much power over my life.

I want my life to be run by the One who knit me together.  The One who knows me inside and out and loves me.  My Creator.  My Savior.  My Father.

So here's to petitioning God.  Here's to striving.

Here's to rising from the ashes.

Adventurer's Log #8: Miss S and the Dark Lord

"A Fascist's Tale" is how it began.

What proceeded was the telling of how the Dark Lord came to power... along with an image of Gandalf and a speech bubble saying "Fly you fools!"

Yup.

This was an assignment one of my students handed in today.

The task?

Good question.

It had nothing to do with destroying the Ring of Power.  I mean, come on, everyone knows one does not simply walk into Mordor.

It was a timeline, actually.

Yup.

A timeline.

We are studying 1919-1933 in History 12 right now, and rather than have my students answer questions to tell me about Hitler's rise to power in Germany, I had them create a timeline.  I told them it could be in whatever format they wanted (an actual timeline, a PowerPoint, paragraph form, etc).  So one student did a PowerPoint.

And it was Lord of the Rings themed.

Pretty epic, if I do say so myself!

I would love to take full credit for this, but I can't.  These are kids are just plain incredible!  The work they hand in makes me seem like a way better teacher than I actually am.  Each of my classes has something unique to offer, but I seriously cannot wait for my grade 12 class at the end of each day.  I get to work with a group of students who are taking they course because they love the subject matter.  They were telling me that their idea of taking a break from the homework in other classes is to do the homework for my class!

What teacher doesn't want to hear that?!

So yes, despite an exhausting start to the week, things are going well.

My incredibly lame Friday night is moving along rather nicely :)

After work I spent a little over an hour at the Laundromat.  I did my laundry, wrote a letter to Mr. Charming, and shared pleasantries with some my fellow patrons.

Then I returned home and cleaned my house.

Now, after a lovely, hot shower, I am drinking tea, eating a lemon square, and reclining on the couch.

And I currently sound like I must be about 70 years old!

But all is well.  Next week is a short week and then it is off to a conference.  Which also means Thanksgiving is coming.  Which means I get to see Mr. Charming in 168 hours.

Not that I'm counting!

And I get to spend the weekend with my family!

And I will hopefully come back a little less tired and a little more able to make it to Christmas!

So here's to lemon squares, dark lords, and possibly staying up later than eight o'clock tonight!

Adventurer's Log #7: Miss S and the Stupid Lemon Squares

It is just after six o'clock and I have changed into my jammies and am curling up on the couch.

I was convinced, after all the rest that I got with being sick over the weekend, that I was fully rested, recharged, and ready to go (how's that for alliteration?  Can you tell the English teacher in the room?)  And yesterday was one great day.  I had so much energy.  My classes were fun and students seemed to be learning.  I had some kids come and tell me how much they appreciate my teaching style.

Which is great to hear when you are always evaluating yourself and wondering how you are doing.  And wondering if you're actually capable of teaching or if it is just a figment of your imagination!

But today I noticed something.

I'm tired.

I noticed it when one of my students put up a fight about completing all of the questions with an assignment.  Or when a group of girls just would not stop talking.  Or when another boy was mad at me for all of Cooking class because I decided we would make lemon squares and they have too much sugar in them.  So I got the cold shoulder all class. 

Because of lemon squares.

Yeah.  I know.  My thoughts exactly.

Normally I am a pretty patient person (I know those of you who know me are shocked to hear this).  I can reason, I can talk students through things, and I can get my classes under control (classroom management has never been an issue for me).

But today I was tired.

My patience was shot.

I think I managed to hide it from my students and co-workers, but if I were to be honest, when I came home I just wanted to collapse on the couch with my supper and a cup of tea and cry.  But I couldn't.  I had to head back to the school for a meeting.

However, I don't want this to be a down post!  Because the first two days of the week have been good ones.

My grade 12s presented on their communist leaders. 

All I can say is "Wow."  There is something about watching them refer to guys like Marx and Stalin on a first-name basis that makes me proud.  And maybe a little scared ;)

My grade 10s did literary games with me in class yesterday and they got so into it.  I love watching them get excited to learn and have fun doing it.

My grade 8s found out about Mr. Charming (I teach the principal's daughter so she has been around when he has been talked about).  Trying to keep homeroom devotions away from discussion about him and when they will get to meet him has been a challenge all in itself.

One of my grade 9s baked brownies and brought them to class because she knows I like chocolate.

So see?  Still a good day :)

In my exhaustion I have found myself turning to God more and more.  I have broken down on Him, talked to Him, and am currently sitting here asking Him to just hold me.

So here's to a good night sleep tonight and a more patient Miss S tomorrow!

Adventurer's Log #6: Miss S Introduces her Class to Young Stalin

I will never forget the moment in my undergraduate degree when the prof of my class on totalitarian leaders (yes... I took a class on totalitarianism), flashed a picture of young Stalin on the PowerPoint.  Remembering what I pivotal moment that was for me (you know how it is when you realize that someone who came to represent so much evil was actually incredibly attractive in their youth), I decided that I would share the experience with my History 12 class.

I had prepared a lecture on the Russian Revolutions and Civil War.  My students were enthralled (or as enthralled as they could be).  And then I switched to the slide with this picture:

At this point one my boys asked me how this guy managed to curdle (yes, curdle), into the man we all recognize.

I had other high points with my History class this week too.

I assigned each student a different communist leader/figure.  They were in charge of researching that leader and their impact on communism.  I get to see their presentations tomorrow (I would be lying if I said I wasn't excited about this... I'm also introducing them to fascism tomorrow).  One girl became so fascinated with her specific leader (she is looking at Mao Zedong), that when doing an improvisation warm-up for her drama class, she did a scene involving communism... and proceeded to pretend she was Mao.

One of my grade 8 girls told her mom and that she can't wait to have me three times a day next semester (I guess I have to try to be meaner).

My English 10 class did a coffeehouse on Tuesday.  I brought in hot chocolate and some brownies, three other girls brought in baked goods, I wore a scarf and beret, set up a stool at the front of the class, and watched as my students began to read poetry in front of each other.

A not-so-thrilling part of the week was getting hit with the nasty cold that several of my students have been off from school with.  It hit Thursday.  I was in bed by 7:30 two nights in a row.  I was chilled.  My head hurt.  My chest hurt.  I was coughing.

Let's be honest.  I was pretty miserable!

But today I am feeling much better :)

I'm incredibly excited for the Thanksgiving weekend.  I get to see my family, some friends, and Mr. Charming is coming to visit.

It hasn't all been easy.  This was a long week with some long days due to meetings and such after school.  I'm a little scared my 4:30 wake-ups are beginning to catch up with me.  I'm realizing that some parts of life, like finding balance, finding a church, and just figuring out where I belong/fit in aren't going to be as easy as I would like them to be.  I'm realizing that I'm still dealing with baggage from my last church experience that I didn't think I would have to deal with.

That I tend to feel I shouldn't have to deal with.

I react to things church-related in a manner I'm not always proud of.

But God is still proving faithful.  Over the last few days, He has given me such an incredible picture of His love.

Sometimes I feel like I'm always being faced with my flaws.  I see all my imperfections.  I see the way I respond to things.  I see the battles that wage within me.

And they disgust me.

They repulse me.

Yes, at times, I repulse me.

I wonder why anyone wants to be around me.  Sometimes I wonder how anyone could love one so incredibly imperfect.

I was told the other day that I was loved for who I am.

Those words stopped me.

They stopped me because I know I don't deserve that kind of love.

I don't deserve grace.

Yet it is given to me.

I don't have to become perfect in order for God to love me.  I don't have to become perfect in order for Him to extend His grace and forgiveness my way.

He loves me.

And that love makes me want to be a better person.  It makes me want to throw off the imperfections, the things that hinder, and strive for perfection.

So here's to a week of communist leaders, fascism, and the realization that even a sinner like me is still loved.

Adventurer's Log #5: Miss S enters the Twilight Zone

I realized something today.

You know that idealistic representation of small towns that you will see on tv or read about in books?  That representation where the new person moves to a town and everyone stops to greet them and wants to know all about them?

Yeah.

I live in that town.

Pretty sure I have just walked into a tv show or entered one of those novels I read in my youth.

I have already described my church experience here and how friendly the congregation is.

Well today I had another mind-blowing-strangers-starting-conversations-with-me experience.

One of the teachers at my school invited me for coffee after work today (insert happy dance over the fact that I'm making friends here).  I got to the coffee shop a little bit before she did, ordered my drink (how can you say no to something called a "Peppermint Kiss"), and sat in a lovely, high-backed, wing-back chair to wait.

And all of a sudden the woman I ordered my drink from sat down across from me and proceeded to strike up a conversation.  We chatted for a few minutes, she asked what I did and what brought me to the Lake, and then left.

Seriously, I have never lived somewhere where people are so dang friendly!  I'm used to the town I spent the last few years where people would much rather avert their gaze in the grocery store and introduce themselves and start asking you about yourself.

I don't know if I'm ever going to get over this.

:)

In other news, I had a pretty incredibly week of teaching.  I left my English class on Wednesday with a headache.  And not because my kids were loud or their writing hurt me.

It was because they blew me away with their depth.

Seriously, if you could have read the poems they wrote or the analyses they wrote on poems your mind would have been blown.

To say I'm proud of them would be an understatement.

They are handing in a poetry anthology on Monday with a selection of other poems they have analyzed as well as some poems they wrote and analyzed themselves.  I have offered to provide feedback if they want it, and it has been incredible to watch their skill develop.  Did you know I have the deepest grade 10 class in the world? 

They amaze me.

We are actually having a coffeehouse on Tuesday.  They have agreed to read some of their poetry and I am bringing brownies and hot drinks.  I'm also wearing my beret and a scarf (and some of them have agreed to dress up too).

Or the fact that one of my History students came to talk to me about an assignment that same day and proceeded to tell me how much she appreciates my classes and the way I try to engage them?  That she really likes my teaching?

Now I know my weeks will not always be filled with experiences like this.  I do.

But that doesn't change the fact that it feels incredible.

I love my job.  When I teach I feel like I'm doing what I was made to do.  I don't mind getting up every morning (in fact, most mornings I'm up before my alarm goes off at 4:30).  I really don't mind being at the school my 5:45 in the morning (even if my school does look a little creepy in the dark).  And by 6:30 our volunteer maintenance/security guy (a really sweet, older, British gentleman), comes in to say hi and comment on my early morning.  Of course, I can only maintain these early mornings because I go to bed at the same time as Mr. Charming (which is just after 8:00 my time).

The point is, this has been a good week.  I rocked my cardigans (even received compliments on them), made some more friends, had my mind blown by my students, and am pretty excited for my coffeehouse next week.

This zany teacher is rocking her zaniness.

Adventurer's Log #4: Miss S becomes the Cardigan Queen

“I’ve got this.  You’re a student.  I’m working.”

Do you have any idea how badly I have longed to be able to say that?  In fact, saying “longed” doesn’t even begin to describe it.  I have spent the last few years (and especially this last year), DREAMING about what it would be like to say those words to my friends.

Yesterday I finally got to say that.

And it felt INCREDIBLE J

I got my first paycheque on Friday, and the result was a shopping trip to visit my sister a few hours away in a city that has a mall (and a mall with stores in it).  I got tired of my one pair of dress pants that don’t fit well and my tops that are worn and stretched out.  So I bought some new clothes.

And it was incredibly exciting.

And I’m now the Cardigan Queen (or so says the closet full of cardigan sweaters I now have).

I’m not saying having money solves all of your problems.  I still stress out and am still trying to keep myself on a pretty strict budget so I can put a fair bit of money into savings.

But it still felt pretty darn good to go shopping J

To be honest, I’m just feeling pretty darn good in general.  You know all of those insecurities and overwhelming feelings I was talking about in my last post?  Well they aren’t all gone, but I am definitely feeling better.  Last week I really felt like I hit my groove in my classes.

I found a way to reach my English 10 boys.  I showed them a picture of Mr. Charming’s cat, the infamous Mr. M, and had them write a poem about it.  They loved it.  I discovered my English class is full of incredibly poetic students and there is nothing more satisfying than pointing out the depth of their work to them and watching the pride that fills their faces.

I am thoroughly enjoying the fact that I had to confiscate the world from one of my students today.  He brought a globe to class.  Apparently the weight of it was too much.

Today was a pretty exciting moment for me.  On Mondays I have a double block of History 12, so my grade 12s are stuck with me for the whole afternoon.  One girl walked into the classroom, sat down at the table, threw her hands into the air and stated “Double block of History!  Whoo-hoo!”

Yup.

My class garnered a “Whoo-hoo!”

:)

I'm tired. 

But I'm also rather happy.

I love teaching.  And now that I'm over the initial shock and stress of being in a new place and away from those I love, I feel like I can throw myself into this.  I love trying to think of ways to make 20th century history come alive.  I love helping my students discover that poetry is not as scary as it may seem. I love interacting with my students.

I love my job.

So here's to another week of being the quirky teacher with the vast selection of colourful cardigans!