The new year began yesterday with a crisp, cold, sunny start. I took love bug out to our favorite trails and felt renewed as we crunched our way through the frozen terrain. He and I have spent a year together, four seasons, exploring these trails. We have seen life go from cold, hard winter to verdant spring to steamy summer to abundant fall and now back again.

As I walked with him on this day I felt as though the world was beginning anew. I know that 2008 was not a year for the record books, there were many more downs than ups–but that year has now past. What will this new year behold? I do not know.

I do not generally make resolutions. Vain attempts to set unrealistic goals which only become depressing failures when they are unattained. However, I do set goals. But not merely at the new year. I find that taking stock of what we have, looking at what we can discard, and setting a course for forward motion provides a sense of purpose.  This year, 2009, I hope for a fresh start.

Measurable Goals:

1. Complete Ironman training and hopefully, finish an Ironman.

2. Become a more faithful participant at Christ Church

3. Renew a sense of reflectivness in my practice as a teacher–look at the big picture, backwards plan, and reflect thoughtfully on the growth of my kids.

4. Complete my Master’s and write a thesis which is reflective of my passions.

5. Complete the Angel Ride raising $1000+ for Hole in the Wall Gang

Lofty Goals:

1. Be a better, more communicative, honest friend.

2. Serve others before myself.

3. Listen first, comment second

4. Seek first the wisdom of God rather than my own selfish desires; thoughtfully seek His will.

5. Balance.

Do I expect to fulfill all of these goals? Of course, I hold myself to a high standard. But I recognize my frailty as a human and while I have tested my limits this year, I know that they do exist. I cannot measure my lofty goals. But I hope that I hold fast to them as the hustle and bustle of the year begins.  Regardless, I’m grateful for a new year. I have been blessed abundantly in 2008 and look forward to 2009 as a rebirth of faith, reflection, and love.

I believe God laughs when we try to make our own plans. It is as if we start to take our own path and He provides us whiplash to turn us in His direction. I feel that today and I’m grateful.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to
prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.–Jeremiah 29:11

I’m reading A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis in hopes to gain some kind of grain, wisdom, insight, whatever into dealing with grief. While I feel I am not grieved as I once was, in time we all must begin to heal, I still seek solace in the wisdom of those who have walked a road of pain before me. This book is Lewis’ way of dealing with the grief of his beloved wife, H.

The thought that is sticking with me as I read today is this:

And whatever is matters. And whatever happens has consequences, and it and they are irrevocable and irreverisble.

He speaks, of course, of death. But this sticks with me. I feel as though the is should be capitalized for emphasis. The IS of your situation, whatever it be, does matter. In the time and place you are in, it all has consequence in some way. Be it globally or to merely the direction of your day. The IS matters.

I think the IS is an element of God’s free will. It is his gift. In death it is finite. For those of faith, death is eternal life; but the fact remains that those on earth are left with a finite repercussion. In grief, the IS is so fleeting. It can in one moment have you questioning all you have believed and in the next leaping for joy counting your blessings just to remind yourself you are alive.

I find myself unable to conjur tears in a way that I used to be unable to control. I worry that this means I’m not feeling in the same way. But the fact of the matter is that this is just a natural part of the grief process. At some point you stop crying every day. You accept what is. You may hate it, you may wish with all of your might that you could turn it upside down but you accept what is. Does that mean you move forward? Not necessarily. But instead of stewing in what was or could have been, you stew in what is. And when you are ready to go forward, God will still be there.

Romans 8:38-39 For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers,  nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

I love advent. The hymns, the candles, the purple (blue) vestments. But more than all of the aesthetics, I love the waiting. The expectation of the celebration of the birth of Christ. The mystery of how the foundation of our faith came to be.

Today’s calendar page reads: when we stay in faith, positive, expectant, and hopeful, then all the forces of darkness cannot keep God from bringing those promises to pass. I have tried very hard in these last ten months to have this hopefulness, this positive outlook, expecting great things from God. But I have grown a bit weary.

I have missed most of advent this year. Choosing sleep over early worship. Choosing television and facebook time over scripture. I have missed the point. I have not centered upon the expectancy of our coming Lord. I have missed the joy that comes from waiting for the mystery to reveal itself.

I wonder how long I will use the “I’m too busy” excuse; for I find it is losing its fidelity in my own mind. At some point in the coming days and weeks, I must firmly define what is important and let go of that which does not serve others, God, or even my own self in a positive manner. This includes the excuse of busyness. Time must be made and recaptured. But at the same time, the hopefulness cannot be lost. The firm belief that God is at the center of this veiled mystery called life. This must be my own advent.

From my calendar yesterday….

This is one of the most important principles you can ever learn. Follow peace, listen to your conscience; deal with issues God brings to light. Don’t put it off. The longer you put it off, the more difficult it will be.

“Turn from evil and do good; seek peace and pursue it.” –Psalm 34:14

Today’s run was a sloppy, sloshy mess.  5.7 miles with the tri girls in the drizzly-misty-downpour rain from 5:30-6:30am this morning. Lucikly it wasn’t particularly cold, so the rain was just wet rather than bone-chilling. Plus, it was just really nice to show up at the crack o’ dawn and find two other crazy people willing to run for an hour in the dark and dismal morning.  I came home and had to peel the layers off of me and it will be a few days before my riders are ready for another trek and let’s not even talk about the rats nest that was my drenched hair. But it felt good. It was not fast, nor was it easy. But it felt good. Somedays running has a way of changing you for the better. Today was one of those days.

Peace. (stay dry)

I do not yell at my students. It is just not part of my M.O. I make certain that my students understand my expectations through a variety of forms. I also work very hard to communicate with them in a way that is respectful yet also reflective of my high expectations. I have a decent teacher “look”, I give a lot of visual/proximity clues, and I am not afraid to call out students directly if necessary.

Yesterday was the first time in two years that I have had to “read the riot act”. I did not yell, I got to child’s eye view, and I did not allow for sass. I made it very clear that the students were not meeting my expectations and, in fact, that their current behavior was abhorrent. It did not require me to yell, belittle, or disrespectful. It required me to be courageous enough to be honest and confront three ten-year olds.

Today, they were focused. They worked hard and they were respectful of themselves and of the group.

And I never had to yell.

It is 9:40pm. Rachel Maddow is on. I am 3/4 of the way through writing a final exam. My quads are screaming from an early morning run and a bitchin’ spin class. Spin class was hard and really emotional. I’m stressed about school, about life, about lack of love. I’m worried about my student who I made cry today. I’m drinking a really good beer that I won’t finish. I’m dreading getting up to go to the pool tomorrow for the first time in two months. I still need to make the coffee for tomorrow and iron my shirt. I wish I had a helper to do one of those things. I love my red blanket on my couch, but really wish furry love bug was here. He loves it more. I feel like my final exam paper is a reiteration of things I have said over and over again. Rachel just said Ana Marie Cox is about to come on…she has good hair, I have never had good hair. I can’t believe it is only Tuesday. I’m going to miss my best friend so much when she has to go. I have lost a lot of love this year and don’t know what to do with my broken heart. My running is slow and I’m starting to worry that I’m not really an athlete. My mind races a mile a minute and sometimes I have no idea how to unplug it. Somedays I really love my job. I desperately hope that I can make a positive difference in someone’s life, every day. Most days I feel like I don’t do anything right. I want Rachel to wear a necklace. Clearly, blogging like this is selfish ranting, but typing is faster than handwriting a journal and in my wacky brain I sometimes wonder if there is someone out there is cyberland who is just as lost as me. I’m not unhappy–just a bit kerfloffled. I do a great Swedish chef impression. I love laughing. I love sweating. I love being warm. I like cocoa to the point its probably addiction worthy. I think anyone who works with kids is blessed beyond their wildest dreams. It is 9:49 and its officially time to get back to that final.

Good night dear reader.

Peace.