Praise God in his Sanctuary

I used to be of the mindset that if you've seen one old, European Cathedral, you've seen them all.

 

Until last weekend.

 

Even before entering, I was awed by the majesty of this building. I turned to Mary, "I don't know if I could really worship God in a place like this. I think the beauty...the architecture...would be distracting." Mary wisely responded that perhaps the idea behind the Cathedral's beauty was to point me toward God's beauty. I secretly dismissed the idea, being more of a 'God-connects-with-me-through-nature' kind of girl. Give me a mountain, or a lake, or an ocean and I'm set.

 

 

How wrong I was.

 

 

Never have I connected to God more through a church building. This place was a rich feast for my eyes; reminiscent of the creamy, coconut gelato I tasted in Italy. Everywhere I looked there was beauty. It was all I could do to slip into a pew and gaze, mouth slightly agape, in reverent awe. My mind held only one thought: "How awesome is God in his sanctuary." Incense doesn't usually appeal to me, but right then, I wanted even my sense of smell to be overpowered by this strong sense of God.

 

 

 

I was insignificant inside the Cathedral. In a good way. I was so small...I lost awareness of myself momentarily in the multitudes of columns and layers upon layers of arches.

 

 

It made me so excited for heaven...for beauty beyond comprehension that awaits us.

 

Countless dollars and hundreds of years...money and time that could have been spent on more 'important' things or given to the poor...worth every moment and every penny. It was the perfume that Mary Magdalene poured out on our Savior's feet.

 

 

What a deep love for God and a desire for him to be glorified must have been in the hearts of those who built this Cathedral.

 

My soul felt satisfied by this place. I didn't want to leave.

 

 

Psalm 150

 

Praise the Lord.

 

Praise God in his sanctuary;

praise him in his mighty heavens.

Praise him for his acts of power;

praise him for his surpassing

greatness.

Praise him with the sounding of the

trumpet,

praise him with the harp and lyre,

praise him with tambourine and

dancing,

praise him with the strings and

flute,

praise him with the clash of cymbals,

praise him with resounding cymbals.

 

Let everything that has breath praise

the Lord.

Praise the Lord.

 

Anxiety

It has been an unwelcomed companion of mine for many years now. At times, I've been able to rise above it and at other times, it's made me feel like I was drowning. As a child, I didn't know it had a name. All I knew was that I didn't want to go to sleepovers like my friends did and I was terrified of needles, and when I had a doctor's appointment, I would worry about it for months ahead of time. It was at its worst in early college. Moving 2,000 miles away from home to a city where I knew no one might have had something to do with that. Anxiety had quite a hold on me the summer after my freshman year. So much so that it made me anxious to leave home, even to babysit in the next town over.

Until then, I hadn't voiced this struggle to anyone but my Mom. She urged me to talk to a counselor, but I quickly dismissed the idea. Counseling was for weird people with big problems. (I'm sure you can guess where this is going...) Eventually it got so bad that I agreed to meet with our church counselor. Through meeting with her, and through Beth Moore's incredible Bible study, Breaking Free, I eventually found freedom from the stronghold anxiety had on me. But that doesn't mean that it went away forever. In fact, a teacher and mentor once warned me that I shouldn't be surprised if my anxiety reared its ugly head again, especially during times of transition.

All that to say, my old friend is back. The first month I was here, I was surprisingly calm and anxiety-free. Perhaps it was the jetlag? The shock? The honeymoon phase of life oversees? Regardless, the stress of moving, living in a different culture, adjusting to new languages and customs, and starting a new job have taken their toll, and now I feel like my throat is closing up.

In the past, when it has come back, my Mom's advice, to treat it like it's no big deal, has been immensely helpful. "Notice it, and know that you won't always feel anxious. It is just a feeling and will eventually go away." So I've treated my anxiety very nonchalantly, the way I would an ex-boyfriend. "Oh, there you are again. Don't really care." And that has helped....but I've stumbled upon something that works even better. And it's so simple I can't believe I haven't thought of this before.

I've started thanking God for my anxiety.

Now this is in no way as noble as Corey TenBoom thanking God for fleas in the concentration camp, but it's a start. Perhaps it's more reminiscent of Paul delighting in his weakness. (2 Corinthians 12:10)Without the anxiety, I wouldn't feel nearly as dependent on Him as I am. I wouldn't have to rely on praying and singing hymns to stop my throat from feeling like it was closing up. When I'm thanking Him for my anxiety, I'm not frantically trying to stop the anxious feelings. Instead, I'm actually focused on Him. "Refuse to worry, because this form of worldliness will weigh you down and block awareness of My Presence." (Jesus Calling, September 19). I am aware of His presence with me because of my anxiety. What a gift!

It makes me wonder what else I should be thanking Him for...

You know you teach at a TCK school when...

...your student tells you she can't think of the word...in English...she can only recall it in Portuguese...

...you ask your students to talk about the time they were most scared and you hear stories that begin like, "Well, we were in Kenya..."

...your student needs some extra help with English vocabulary because he speaks three different languages at home...

Opening day flag ceremony

My classroom

Teaching at BFA feels so normal at times, and other times it feels like a completely different world. The other day, Jordan pointed out one of the unique aspects of working at BFA. Every person who works here wants to be here. In fact, they've all worked really hard to get here. This isn't a starter job they're hoping to move out of in a few years. This isn't something they're doing just to pay the bills. Not that there's anything wrong with those scenarios, it just creates a different environment. The teachers and staff are incredibly excited to be here. They feel privileged to have the opportunity to work here. It makes for a very positive, exciting atmosphere!

Period 1: Homeroom and English 7th
Period 2: Planning
Period 3: ELL (English language learning) 6th (M,W,F)
Period 4: English 8th
Period 5: English 8th
Period 6: ELL 8th
Period 7: Planning
Period 8: Planning

I am one week into being a real live English teacher. Despite feeling unqualified and nervous, I've managed to make it through the first four days, and I think I even appear to know what I'm doing. The very best part came on Friday when a fellow teacher told me he'd heard the 8th grade boys talking about me during his advisory class. Apparently the word on the street is that I'm really strict. Seriously! It was at that moment that I felt I must be doing something right and perhaps I will succeed in teaching middle school.