Changing Chapters

One year ago I decided to it was time to take control of my life rather than allow it to control me.  Goals felt like a commodity I couldn’t afford.  Dreams were something from a movie.  Mr. Scrooge and I partnered in our outlook on life.  Bah Humbug!   This journey has been a walk of blind faith.  I won’t rehash what I’ve already discussed in previous posts.  This journey stretched me.  My determination has been tested.  The stubbornness that has always been my nemesis became my companion and friend.

In late July I received a text message alerting me that my dream teaching position may be available.  .  Life presented me with an epic challenge.  Would I dare to imagine my dream could blossom into a reality?  Welcome to the proverbial 11^th hour.  

The next thing I knew Monday morning dawned with an early morning interview.  There were 5 of them and only one of me, but I felt strangely confident and at ease.  Two days, a sleepless night, and 10 chewed nails later I received a phone call from a representative at the ISD HR office informing me that I had been recommended for a position.  We scheduled a time for me to come in, and I requested permission to ask a potentially stupid question.  I asked, “Does this mean I got the job?”  It did, and I do! 

In typical Hannah fashion, my entire life changed in only a few days.  Only a month ago I silently dreamed about teaching this school year.  Tomorrow, I step into the classroom that I painstakingly prepared over the past 16 days.  This year holds adventure, excitement, and exhaustion like I’ve not experienced.  Today I have no children.  Tomorrow I will have 184.  The struggle of this journey holds the massive doubts at bay. 

Tonight I will lay my head down as just another person.  Tomorrow, I’ll wake up a teacher.  My determination endured a boot camp. Now, it enters a war.  Bring it on!

Stepping Stones

Each step takes me closer to the dream.  Precisely at the moment I stand on the brink of caving to my fears, another stone arises and I see the next step.  Excitement propels me forward.  So, I leap.  I land.  I enjoy the moment, and then the doubts seep into my psyche like water slowly flooding a wooded trail.  I am forced once again to compare these raging doubts against the rock of reality.  Slowly, my confidence returns for a moment.  I'm always up for an adventure, but this is real life!


The past month my nails have been nibbled away as I have attempted to patiently await my test scores.  I began to check the site at the two week mark, which was the earliest they could have appeared.  Hope drove me to check daily, but the constant disappointment of no posting eroded my confidence.   Finally, a month later the email appeared in my inbox announcing that the scores had arrived!  Excitement caused my heart to race, then fear increased the pace another notch.  The "what ifs" came like a deluge, and I considered walking away until later.  It was only a momentary thought, and I quickly sought out a semi-private computer to take the plunge.  (Technically, I was at work and not supposed to be checking personal things, but I HAD TO KNOW!  Sorry about that, David.)


I experienced one of those proverbial moments when time stands still.  Seconds feel like hours.  The computer switching from page to page happened more slowly than it had ever happened before.  Then, the PDF file appeared, and I was assaulted by a list of numbers.  I investigated and digested the information before me, struggling to get my mind to engage and cooperate.  I caught my breath.  Could it be true?  I looked again.  If I were in a film, this would be the moment the "Hallelujah Chorus" would have been cued.  I not only passed the test, but excelled!  Insert exhale here.  I spent the rest of the day with my feet barely touching the floor.  I pinched myself just to be sure this was indeed reality.

Now, the victory has sunk in, and I have proceeded to the next step, putting it all into practice.  In only 3 weeks my classes will be completed, and I'll be released into the world of education.  Now, I have to find a teaching position.  Insert freak out here.  This appears to be the biggest leap to date.  However, I confidently say that the Lord has led me each and every step of this journey.  I'm astounded to see how the past 6 months have fallen into place. So, I'll keep stepping one stone at a time.

50/50

**WARNING: I feel some rambling ahead. Consider yourself forewarned.

I never intended it to take me 6 months to process all that has happened in my world to the point that I sat still long enough in my mind, body, and soul, to type another post.  In some ways I still find myself eerily speechless, almost numb. 

In my last post, I indicated that I was making a leap.  I did it.  I jumped, and I'm flying for now.  July 15th I will complete the initial requirements for my teaching certification, and will hopefully begin to teach in August...anywhere.  I'm not going to be particular.  I will merely be pleased with a teaching position.  Looking ahead with a lack of clarity is disconcerting for me.  Change is not my most favorite of things, but is coming and I'm excited-ish about it.  I just wish I already knew where I will be in 3 months.  This is where the trusting part comes.

Any of you who follow me on Facebook know that I have dedicated many of my posts to two sweet two year old girls fighting cancer.  Piper was diagnosed with infantile leukemia at only 6 weeks old, and spent most of her 2 year and 8 months on this earth battling a beast for her life.  Phoebe received her diagnosis on New Year's Day 2012.  An MRI indicated a large mass in her brain, which they removed mere days later.  Pathology reports revealed Phoebe is in the fight of her life against AT/RT cancer, a very aggressive form of cancer.  The doctors suggested to her parents that she has a 50% chance of survival.  This vapid unfairness led me to the question we desperately train ourselves not to ask, "Why?"  Little princesses are not supposed to have to face these battles.  They are supposed to make messes, play dress up, and get dirty! 

As I considered further Phoebe's prognosis, it struck me that each day we all have a 50% chance of survival.  Now, don't think that I'm being morose.  Just stay with me for a minute.  Every day that we wake we face a 50% chance of survival.  The odds are 50/50 that you will make it to bed at the end of the day.  We all face the fact that each day we will live, or we will die.  Most people out run the odds, and live for decades.  Others leave behind families forced to cope with the reality of 50/50.  Two girls with cancer.  Only one left to fight.  50/50. 

Piper's journey on this earth ended April 3 on a sun shinny afternoon.  Phoebe just started round 4 of her chemo treatments, and had some scary days in the ICU herself.  50/50. 

Each day we all face the fact that we will live or die.  Tonight I find myself sobered by the fact that I somewhere feel justified in whining about not knowing what my life will look like in 3 months, while my friend Susana, her husband, and child have to teach themselves to live life without their 4th part.  My other friends, Nathan and Amey, keep vigil with their little Phoebe attempting to continue to nurse life into her body, as poison is poured into it with hopes of killing the wretched monster trying to take another sweet girl.  They have 3 brave boys at home they have to nurture, train, and love while processing the choices of daily life complicated by cancer. 

Their lives were completely derailed in a day, and I'm whining about 3 months?  What is it I'm crying about again?!  My milk isn't even spilled.  It's still in the cup.  I haven't taken a sip of it, but I'm throwing a fit like a 3 year old because I may not like the way it tastes.  Dear Lord, forgive me!

50/50.  Back to that again.  I know this post has been heavy.  Honestly, I am not sorry.  I hope that somewhere in all of this madness something good arises.  Beauty from ashes, as the verse says.  I find myself constantly reminded of the verses in Psalms,
             ^"I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in
         the land of the living.  Wait for the LORD; be strong and let your heart take courage; yes, wait
         for the LORD." (Psalm 27:13-14) 

I'm not very good at waiting.  Patients has never been very high on my list of virtues.  During this time I shift my focus to gratitude.  I have so much for which to be thankful, and that gives my heart courage.