struggles

I've always been one that thrives on approval, who likes a bit of a pat on the back for what I've accomplished. This is one reason that I always did so well in school; the straight-As spelled out on report cards felt so real, permanent, definitive.

Adult life isn't like that, though. No one grades your performance, regardless of how "watched" or "compared" you might feel.

And that's still hard for me to let go of.

Social networking sites could be blamed for furthering this comparison of "success" - where is she working? What has she done so far today? How did he manage to get his doctorate before I've even finished my master's degree? Why are they able to buy a house, and we're still renting an almost-good apartment? How does she manage to get all the laundry done and the whole house cleaned in one morning while she's 8 months pregnant and chasing three kids? Why? Do I measure up?

Sometimes all these success stories - innocuous in themselves, of course, and things that perhaps should be celebrated - make me feel so small. I'm happy for them, yes, but what's wrong with me? Why am I not as far along in life, so to speak, as they are? Wasn't I always at the top of my class? Then, it's easy to sink into depression for a bit. I think about the should-have, could-have, might-have-been-able-to, and I keep on feeling like I've failed, somehow. Like if my baby boy doesn't have a perfectly decorated nursery, he's going to be at a disadvantage. If I can't make good-enough Christmas gifts, we're going to look stingy, and worse, poor (but we do have so little). Like if we don't own the place we live, it can't still be the best use of our money right now. Like I should have a full-time job (what's wrong with me?), a second car, and the money to spare to be able to give to charities in the area and around the world. Like it shouldn't feel like such a terrible sacrifice to tithe. Like I should be able to go to the grocery store without planning in advance exactly what and how much I'm going to buy, because if I buy more, we'll overdraw the account.

And on a different note, I really miss making music so often. I miss having a piano in my house so that I can play a bit each day, so that hubby and I can share that together. I miss playing on the worship team; our church rarely needs us to play. We want to serve!

The pastor spoke yesterday about John the Baptist, a man that God used to prepare the way for Jesus' earthly ministry. John was a wild-looking guy, who lived and preached in the desert, an unlikely character for announcing the world's Messiah. Pastor went on to say that God will often use the ones who have little, because God's power is shown more clearly through them.

So if I don't have it all together, if we're just scraping by, but we can continue to praise God for our health, food, shelter, and each other, and of course, our salvation, what else do we need? Maybe God will use us, though we have almost nothing, to make a beautiful difference to someone else. Maybe I will be a blessing. Maybe my empty hands will be filled with something better than I thought I wanted. Maybe my hurting heart will be healed and strengthened beyond what I ever dreamed.

My hope is built on Jesus, not on what I can do, what I have, where I am in life, and how many pennies I hold. All that matters is that we continue to trust his plan for our lives, living in a way that helps others to see his work in us.

oh, the unknown

poor, finite creatures
seeing glimpses of light
memories of brightness
and mostly darkness

weak, lonely beings
grasping handfuls of time
understanding little
until it passes

loved, cherished children
hearing stronger and clear
(you are not abandoned)
and I will hold you

---------------------L. L. Burr 2012

"For I know the plans I have for you..."

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding...he will make your paths straight."

"Because of your great compassion, you did not abandon them in the desert..."

"The Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love...As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him..."

"We do not know what to do, but our eyes are upon you."

-----------------------

Well, friends, we're here at the end of August. Back-to-school sales are in full swing, some kiddos have stepped on the bus for the first time, and others have just entered their first college lecture hall. Teachers and professors have dusted off lesson plans and syllabi and are working to set the course for their semester. Counselors, principals, secretaries, and custodians have been hard at work preparing for the new year, and parents have been helping their children to adjust to the end of a summer filled with late nights, water balloons, sports, family reunions, campfires, and cartoons.

And I feel like I missed my bus. Like the world is going to go on without me, that I'm left at the end of the driveway by myself.

You know, like I pulled all my things together, organized my backpack, packed my lunch, put on the nice, new clothes, armed myself with my diplomas, and walked out the door just a moment too late.

But that's not completely true.

Yes, I'm armed with diplomas and teaching experience. I have my credentials, good references, an impressive resume, and an organized, ambitious spirit. I'm passionate about teaching students to explore the world of music, and I aim for excellence.

I am not moments too late.

I showed up, early, pressed and dressed. I had three promising interviews for positions that I was more than qualified to fill. And each time, found out that the position was given to someone else, that I wasn't the perfect fit they were looking for, that I would still be stuck here in my workout clothes trying to find a way to help our family make ends meet. Knowing full well that jobs are scarce in this area, yet clinging to the not-ideal, full-time position with benefits that allows hubby to draw a steady income so that we can pay our exorbitant rent and medical bills.

It's probably best that I didn't get any of those positions - each was at least a 45 minute drive from where we live. It's probably best that I'm not driving that far with a very pregnant belly in a vehicle that's a little too big for my 5'1" frame.

It just hurts. I know I could do each of those jobs very well, that students would like me and thrive, that administrators would approve, that communities would be influenced, and that excellence would take place. I know it would mean long hours, lots of driving, and lots of patience. I know it means a messier home and more things left undone here.

Did I take a wrong turn? Was that flash of light illuminating a path I thought I saw, or did I really see it? Why am I still left here, unemployed? Why is it so dark? How in the world am I going to get in two years of "mentored teaching experience" before my certificate extension expires (requiring me to take the certification exams again - a $300+ endeavor)?

Am I really supposed to be here? Still waiting?

We do not know what to do, but our eyes are on You, Lord.

-------------
Who can know
the mind of our Creator?
Who can speak
of wonders yet unseen?
And who can reach
the heights of understanding
and play the notes of wisdom's melody?

Who has weighed
the dust of every mountain
And who has walked
the mysteries of the deep?
Who has laid the earth on its foundation
and who conducts the waves upon the sea?

I stand in awe of You
I stand in awe of You
So glorious and true
I stand in awe, I stand in awe
----------------------Martyn Layzell, "I Stand in Awe"

laundry mishaps

Today was another beautiful autumn day - sunny, 70's, bright colors - and perfect for hanging laundry out to dry. Aaaah. One last chance to wear my summer sundresses and white ballet flats. Yes, I wear white after Labor Day. I never said I was a fashion queen.

I gathered everything up to bring in as the sun was setting, and noticed a golf-ball sized black stain on my tan fitted sheet: black walnut. Unfortunately, in someone's great wisdom, they not only managed to hang the laundry line under a tree (read: many bugs and spiders, possibility of bird poop), but they chose the only black walnut tree on the property. I am so glad we only rent this place. It's a fine place. It's a pretty location, and convenient to school. I'm just glad it's not mine.

Don't get me wrong. I love toasted walnuts and pretty furniture made of walnut wood. The squirrels outside constantly entertain my cats with their antics to get at the meat of the nuts, even carrying the whole, un-peeled and un-hulled nut in their mouths. The walnuts are bigger than their heads, mind you. This is pretty comic.

The problem is this: when walnuts are ripe, they have a bright green, spongy, wrinkly skin that cracks and bleeds a terribly black/brown dye, which is quite useful for things like

A. Staining the back patio and roof in a very random polka-dot pattern
B. Dyeing cloth the old fashioned way
C. Inadvertently staining one's clothing
D. All of the above.

I'm pretty upset, but this gives me a bit of hope: Cornell University has done a study on stain removal. Hallelujah! There's even a special section on page 11 of the PDF that explains how to remove black walnut stains. Cornell does a lot of great things, and I trust their research. Let's see how it turns out together, eh?

For black walnut, they say to use a solution of hand dishwashing detergent and warm water with a few drops of white vinegar to break up the stain. I've done that, and I'm waiting for the nasty blackness to seep into my beat-up cotton dishtowel. I might have to throw this one away when I'm done.

I'll keep you posted...

...update: the stain is almost completely gone! I treated the stain for 24 hours, blotting and re-wetting and blotting and re-wetting... and then I washed it again. The stain is now almost imperceptible. Hooray! Thanks, Cornell.

screw dilemma, courtesy of eureka

One of my big Christmas gifts was practical, more than half my height, and red.

It's a vacuum!

We have been using a smaller vacuum, which we put on our wedding registry since we knew we wouldn't have any carpet in our first apartment. Well, now that we're renting a house, there's carpet everywhere, and there are two furballs that spend their time loving the carpet. The little vacuum just doesn't do the job well enough. I end up having to empty the dust chamber for each room I vacuum, and it needs a new filter.

My mother-in-law was sympathetic to our predicament, and bought us a new vacuum! I took it out of the box on December 28th, right after I got home from Christmas celebrations. I happily began its assembly. Evidently, the vacuum body needs to be attached to the handle - they can't spend the extra money for a box that's 18" taller, I guess. Included in the box was an extra rubber belt thingy (I'm new to the vacuum maintenance process) and a package of screws that were evidently intended for me to attach the handle to the body.

Being the handy wife that I am (experienced in picture-hanging nails+hammer and taking down screwed-in rose-colored mini blinds), I grabbed the appropriate Phillips screwdriver (oooo fancy terminology) and inserted the screw. Not more than three turns later, the screw got stuck. Supposed to be this way? I don't think so. It's not like we're going into wood, here; it's plastic. I tried again, thinking maybe I hadn't lined things up properly.

Nope. Not going in.

Upon closer examination, it seems that the screw itself is too fat to fit in the hole.

I immediately called customer service. They didn't seem fazed by this error in their packing skills, and were happy to send me new screws for free. Okay.

I waited about a week for the new screws to arrive (via UPS, in an unmarked white van. Luckily, the driver was wearing a uniform, so I still accepted the delivery).

I opened the little package to find a set of (ahem) TEN screws. "Strange," I thought. So I tried these screws.

They were not long enough, and not only this, but they were the exact same diameter as the previous set of screws.

So I called again! It was January fifth by this time. The sympathetic customer service agent said she'd put a rush on the delivery and left me feeling a little more confident, since she actually noted that the wrong screw set had been sent and that "Oh, yes!" I should certainly have had the set of two, smaller diameter screws. How silly of them to mess up. Free of charge again this time.

Today is January 20th. The screws have not arrived. I called again - this makes time number three - and explained the frustrating situation. After putting me on hold, the service agent noticed that they had my address written incorrectly in the system. What happened? Did they delete the previous order? It came fine the first time...

So, anyway, I am now waiting 3-4 business days for the correct screws to arrive.

And I'm still using the little tiny vacuum. Fail.

this is not an endorsement for vistaprint

My husband has his own computer building business, and he asked me the other day to design business cards for him, using the website header that I had created for him. No problem, right? A few minor adjustments, submit to Vistaprint, and voila! New business cards. Nice design. Loving wife does extra-special things for her husband.

I sent him the design at work so that he could preview it. Evidently, he didn't look at it, and I didn't catch the mistake - we had the wrong phone number listed. He and I have very similar phone numbers for our mobile phones, just different by two digits. Guess whose number was on the card? Oh, wait - mine. And I paid for 2-day shipping to the tune of $14. A total waste of $22 - we can't use the cards at all!

Today I tried to contact Vistaprint for a refund of some kind, but their automated customer service doesn't allow the caller to ever reach a real person. Amazing. I'm so frustrated right now!

I uploaded a corrected design (thank you, Photoshop), but this time, it appears bigger than the bleed area. Not okay! So I tried to contact customer service again to confirm whether it will be an acceptable size. I sent an email, and they'll answer me within 48 hours. Seriously? 48 hours? I need these ordered today. They need to come before my husband goes to a conference next week. This is not acceptable!

And I'm trying to calm down, so that, in the event that I actually reach a real live customer service person, I'll be patient, kind, clear, and firm.

in between times

This is one of those times where we're "in between." Between jobs, between school years, between decisions. It's hard to know right now what choice is right, what job will actually be ours, what to study, what to leave for another day.

The truth is that this is a mere speck on the cosmic horizon, and that God has this life in control. Regardless of how powerless, drained, stressed, angry, frustrated, and tearful I become, I know it's not my job to figure it out, but to be patient and to wait on His plan.

Knowledge is one thing. Actually acting on that knowledge is quite another story. Right now, we're waiting to hear whether or not my husband will have an interview for a job in his field, a job that would carry health insurance coverage for both of us, a job that would pay next month's rent, a job that would put food on next month's table, a job that, undoubtedly, 20 or more other candidates are hoping to get. Right now, I've applied for unemployment (which I may not get, since I'm a student now) and medicaid. We've paid half of this semester's tuition, because paying all of it means we have nothing left. In all of these actions, we're still waiting, still trying, still trusting. This still makes my stomach upset and my face break out - is it really trust if I feel so pressured? So weak and angry? So humiliated that our advanced college degrees still leave us seeking employment at the post office and fast food restaurants?

A current song says that these in between times are "just the dawn before the morning" and "the pain before the healing." It's so hard to be in the valley and not be able to see the way out - to be so broken in so many ways and to not be able to pull an A+ to get out. Morning is coming. Tomorrow is a new day. Perhaps I will not cry....tomorrow.

insurance stinks

i'm not going to bore you with the details of our policy, but it comes down to this: we're not covered for the stuff we need, and we don't have the money to pay out of pocket. we just bought a car, we have very little savings, our apartment is expensive (but good for our area), and i don't know how we're going to make it.

i'm feeling really frustrated, especially with the insurance company and the school through which we purchased the insurance. i had no idea that we wouldn't be able to have this covered for the duration of the policy - i had been told that it would be. so frustrated.

tomorrow, it's my plan to call the school's health center and to find out if anyone has been mistaken, and if there's a way to cover more of our costs. i hate this.

however, i am thankful for safety. and for food to eat, a home to live in, my dear husband, and the opportunity he has to study here. i am thankful above all for the grace of my God, who always provides for me.

i'm going to rest in that.