Waiting on God

It is amazing to reflect on how God has provided this year: a convenient place to live, a great housemate, wonderful prayers/support from friends, fellowship, encouragement, safety, strength, peace, joy, and His Spirit to counsel, guide, and remind me of His promises.

Twice this year, God has placed tangible signs of his promise. Last semester, after a particularly discouraging day in the classroom, I was driving home and, just as I turned onto my street, saw a rainbow stretching across the whole sky. The colors were vibrant and stunning in beauty. I pulled over to the side of the road to admire it and praise God for His faithfulness. His strength would get me through and He'd never leave me to face these trials alone.

Another time, God punctuated my mom's patient reminders to me of this same theme to "trust His timing and rely on Him," with what I call an unforgettable "sermon illustration," placing yet another rainbow, this time arched above the hills in Chico. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord unto me!

And so I can trust him, wait on His timing, and rely on His power as I approach the coming months, finishing up a year of student teaching (including a 2 week take over), crafting my Masters paper, finding a part-time job/place to live? in Santa Barbara, and then continuing the adventure of serving Him in Honduras. I can do this only by Christ's power in me.

Habbakuk 1: 5

"Look at the nations and watch—
and be utterly amazed.
For I am going to do something in your days
that you would not believe,
even if you were told.

This is a poem I wrote this year in the form of a letter from an English Language Learner (ELL). The funny thing is that I had the chance to experience what it would be like to be a Language Learner, when I took a class that was entirely in Spanish. I feel so much more empathetic toward my ELLs, having shared a glimpse of their experience.

If I had the words

If I had the words

I would tell you

I want to learn

I would ask you

If I could draw what I know

Instead of writing a 5-sentence paragraph on oceans

Too shy to raise my hand and ask how “ocean” is spelled

If I had the words

I would let you know

I’m intimidated by the flurry of hands

Shot into the air like cannons

I know the answer but I sit quietly with my head down

I rack my brain for how to say it

You call on me, though I didn’t raise my hand

Surprised. I’ve forgotten what I wanted to say

Unrehearsed. I’m still sorting my thoughts.

You stare me down with patient eyes, waiting.

Everybody is waiting.

I want you to think I’m smart. I don’t want the class to laugh.

You ask again, eager to hear an answer.

“I don’t know”

I mutter

Almost inaudibly

Like I was ashamed

But I knew the answer

I just couldn’t find the words

Sometimes I wish I had a microphone that could read my thoughts and

Speak them for me.

You move on and I become lost again in the unfamiliar phrases that constrict me to the basal reader. I want to read a chapter book.

My mama reads to my sister and me, snuggled close on the couch at home.

When mama reads, my dreams are filled with adventures

Or soccer tournaments

Dribbling the soccer ball down the field

As her words bounce in soft cadences

light taps as the text marches down the page.

Closing the book, there is a goal to celebrate.

And I drift off to sleep at peace.

At school, reading is painful

Everybody waits, but I can tell they’re annoyed

Clamoring for their chance to read

But I just need the words

Acting out the story is what I enjoy most

Everyone has their turn

And you can speak as fast or as slowly

as

you

want

It’s all “acting” to everyone else

To me, it’s my voice heard

If I had the words

I’d tell you my hopes, dreams, and how it feels to be seven

I’d tell you

I want to go to college someday

Do you have the words?