It happens at random times... where I just weep for a few minutes. Usually it is a relief to just let out some of the anguish my soul seems to be frequently feeling. It is an anguish filled with hurt and unmet desires and wishes and a desperate want to know what comes next. Through the tears I often cry out to God to lift the heaviness of my heart and bring peace. Accompanied by a plea for this waiting to end.
Guilt seems to normally follow the weeping. Guilt for hurting over seemingly small and insignificant things, especially compared to the trials that many other people are currently going through. There is this not-so-tiny voice inside my head mocks me and accuses me of being pathetic and discontent.
This year has been such a drastic contrast from last year. The almost four months that 2015 has contained have been perhaps the most draining, frustrating, depressing, and difficult months of my life. Last year was probably the most wonderful year.
Essentially nothing has been too difficult for me to figure out a way around. Until now. I can honestly say, I have never been this low. For almost the entirety of my life I have known what comes next, I have excelled and found adventure, braved fabulous unknowns and laughed constantly. Now I haven't a single clue what comes next, I feel stuck in a rut, and I don't laugh much. I cry much more now, and it comes from deep within my soul.
I know what I want next in life. But, I have absolutely no idea how to make it happen. And it feels as though I am truly shooting for the stars. I want the seemingly impossible.
God gave me a heart for people and building deep and lasting relationships. The very core of me longs to help others and bring joy to them, especially through music. And for the last five years music and people has been a daily and constant element. Right now, I don't really get either. There are moments with people but if I'm subbing it's quick and over often within a day. Music has become almost a thing of the past.
Right now, I'm tired and worn and just done with feeling heavy and sad. I miss music. I miss England. I miss knowing.
Now, I know what y'all are saying. Get over it Hannah, grow up, or God has a plan. Yes, I'm in agreement. But alas, all of that is easier said then done.
In the midst of the complete unknown I know this: God will be the hero, His grace and love are always enough, He can change my heart, His ways are always right, He loves me so much that He died and rose again for me and right now He carries me along in my weakened state. He IS. That is enough. That is all that keeps me. He is good. Always.
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
Thursday, February 19, 2015
A message
Life has begun to look up and get better, and I am ever so grateful.
And then there are those times when I once again fall apart. It is never over bad things at this point, rather it is the good and beautiful things in life that completely break me down.
Last Thursday and Friday were quite the powerful days.
Thursday:
I knew that the men's acappella group I had started was singing for assembly that day. That was the extent of my knowledge. And then I saw a picture on Twitter of them after the performance. MY boys... looking sharp and sporting their ever mischievous grins. I smiled and laughed and wondered how many times it is acceptable to retweet a photo.
I found out that they sang beautifully. And then I found out that they talked about acappella before singing and how we made it all happen during my time in England. We were all a team then. Sure, I may have rattled on countless times about them being a team unto themselves. But technically, we were all on that team. Two months later, I was still a 'part' of that team and they made that known. My heart almost burst with pride. They practiced on their own. They gathered equipment on their own. They made a PowerPoint and a speech on their own. They worked together. They sang for an entire student body... something they had all sworn never to do. Oh how I wish I could have been a fly on the wall to witness their success firsthand. Knowing they continued on after I left was inspiring and encouraging. I think that is one of the greatest wishes that a teacher can ever have. That their students will want to keep learning, engaging, experiencing and growing in that subject, even after the teacher leaves.
And then Friday:
I had sent a load of letters to England for all my classes. I knew that many of them read the letters on Thursday and Friday. And then I received a message that has melted my heart countless times still first reading it.
'The letter you sent to 7Awesome was very emotional. Hope you are having a great time with lots of banter! ___(Their form prefect is named here) is adamant that he will not sing for us in class but we're working on it. He did however read the amazing letter to us taking a deep breath before reading the bit about him singing for us. I hope you can come back to visit or if not to teach. I hope that when I am older I will have you as my music teacher. CONGRATULATIONS on your Graduation. Hope the supply teaching goes well and that you have much success in the future. I miss coming at a lunch time to come and speak to you and have a serious laugh and do our Sibelius rondos (compositions). Thank you for giving me my best term ever with the most awesome teacher ever and for making music so fun and special. Music lesson and lunch times will never be the same again. You are clearly the best teacher ever and I am missing you so much. But I know that the rest of the class is to. They always say it is better to have it and lost it than to never have had it at all. I am so pleased to have had the pleasure to meet you and I hope that I will see you again soon.'
I'm not sure what to write now. Suffice to say many tears have been shed and still are right now. This student will never know what these words mean to my heart. How they touch me to the very core and encourage me. Despite five thousand miles spanning me and England, my students continue to change me. I don't really know how else to put it. I suppose people are tired of hearing about my kids and all. I had thought that over two months in, it would maybe hurt less. But it doesn't. I miss them so. And I am so proud of all they have and are continuing to accomplish, both academically and in their character.
I am immensely blessed.
And then there are those times when I once again fall apart. It is never over bad things at this point, rather it is the good and beautiful things in life that completely break me down.
Last Thursday and Friday were quite the powerful days.
Thursday:
I knew that the men's acappella group I had started was singing for assembly that day. That was the extent of my knowledge. And then I saw a picture on Twitter of them after the performance. MY boys... looking sharp and sporting their ever mischievous grins. I smiled and laughed and wondered how many times it is acceptable to retweet a photo.
I found out that they sang beautifully. And then I found out that they talked about acappella before singing and how we made it all happen during my time in England. We were all a team then. Sure, I may have rattled on countless times about them being a team unto themselves. But technically, we were all on that team. Two months later, I was still a 'part' of that team and they made that known. My heart almost burst with pride. They practiced on their own. They gathered equipment on their own. They made a PowerPoint and a speech on their own. They worked together. They sang for an entire student body... something they had all sworn never to do. Oh how I wish I could have been a fly on the wall to witness their success firsthand. Knowing they continued on after I left was inspiring and encouraging. I think that is one of the greatest wishes that a teacher can ever have. That their students will want to keep learning, engaging, experiencing and growing in that subject, even after the teacher leaves.
And then Friday:
I had sent a load of letters to England for all my classes. I knew that many of them read the letters on Thursday and Friday. And then I received a message that has melted my heart countless times still first reading it.
'The letter you sent to 7Awesome was very emotional. Hope you are having a great time with lots of banter! ___(Their form prefect is named here) is adamant that he will not sing for us in class but we're working on it. He did however read the amazing letter to us taking a deep breath before reading the bit about him singing for us. I hope you can come back to visit or if not to teach. I hope that when I am older I will have you as my music teacher. CONGRATULATIONS on your Graduation. Hope the supply teaching goes well and that you have much success in the future. I miss coming at a lunch time to come and speak to you and have a serious laugh and do our Sibelius rondos (compositions). Thank you for giving me my best term ever with the most awesome teacher ever and for making music so fun and special. Music lesson and lunch times will never be the same again. You are clearly the best teacher ever and I am missing you so much. But I know that the rest of the class is to. They always say it is better to have it and lost it than to never have had it at all. I am so pleased to have had the pleasure to meet you and I hope that I will see you again soon.'
I'm not sure what to write now. Suffice to say many tears have been shed and still are right now. This student will never know what these words mean to my heart. How they touch me to the very core and encourage me. Despite five thousand miles spanning me and England, my students continue to change me. I don't really know how else to put it. I suppose people are tired of hearing about my kids and all. I had thought that over two months in, it would maybe hurt less. But it doesn't. I miss them so. And I am so proud of all they have and are continuing to accomplish, both academically and in their character.
I am immensely blessed.
Saturday, February 7, 2015
The Winding Path Up and Out
For some reason, my brain organizes life in sections of time... this many weeks until this event, or this many months since that event. Almost like milestones or something. Maybe that is messed up, I don't know.
Wednesday marks two months since I boarded an airplane in London, returning back to the USA after almost four wonderful months spent in the north of England. Two months! Where has the time gone?!
Since coming back home, I have had a massive amount of time to think and reflect. It has been a hard road filled with some deep depression and true soul searching. I'm ever so thankful for the continual faithfulness and patience of the Lord. I would love to tell you that I bounced back from living a somewhat fairytale life, but that wouldn't be true. It has been a struggle. Some days have felt as though I am army crawling up a steep hill, inch by painful inch. Some days I am up and walking. It has been a weary journey.
A couple years ago, I would have guiltily hidden my struggles. I had this notion that if I appeared weak no one would want to be around be and they would think less of me. It was only through the advice of trusted friends and family and working of the Lord in my heart, that I realized there was no shame in depression. That in itself was freeing. It kinda shoves you to the ground in the realization that there is no way you can do life successfully without God.
So when I once again found myself in a valley, I was not ashamed or fearful. It was more like an 'oh darn' moment. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Lord would bring me through it, and that there was a reason that I was in this place. Still, it has been a tough couple months.
In England, I had a brand new life. Every day was essentially a new adventure, filled with new people, scenery, experiences, and lessons. For my personality, that is like pure happiness. I love new things and might secretly or not so secretly enjoy the unknown. That is who I am! The adventure of life holds so much exciting mystery and I love discovering it.
I had a new church, with a new community and group of friends. Starting over with that part of life was challenging, but rewarding and filled with inspiring and phenomenal people. There was a new city, filled with culture, history, streets, and people that I had absolutely no idea about. And of course, a school. Up until this point, I had never taught full-time... just part-time. Before England, I wondered if I was truly cut out to teach full-time. In about a week I realized, that yes, I was cut out for it. In fact, this was part of my main calling in life.
I remember the first week I started teaching. So many nerves! I was a bit unsure, and confidence wasn't particularly present. Would I be able to communicate clearly to my students? Would they think I was dumb? Would they like music? Would they learn what they were supposed to?
By the end of the week though, my confidence had grown in leaps and bounds, and I realized that it didn't matter so much what the students thought of me. What really mattered was that they learned, and somehow found joy in learning.
Most importantly though I was hit in the face by one thing. These students were human beings. Now, that sounds a bit silly, but I realized how important consciously recognizing their humanity was. It opened my eyes to see my students as more than just warm bodies in desks and more than just a way to realize music. These people had dreams and talents, fears and humor, curiosity, hurt, intelligence, and joy. It actually overwhelmed me. Teaching now went beyond the academic subject of music. It was about life and connecting learning to the heart and mind of each student. Gosh! I could teach the 'perfect' lesson, hitting every major point and including advanced teaching technique, but unless it connected with my students, it was an absolutely pointless endeavor.
I could go on and on about this. For hours in fact. Suffice to say, that as I began to incorporate this into my teaching, the responses of my students stunned me. Sure, some of my lessons sucked. There is no way around it. I majorly failed at times. But my students graciously carried on. Their patience and support was humbling. I was astounded by their intelligence, and moved by their love. To the very end they gave me countless opportunities to confidently experiment in my teaching. When something went well, they made sure I knew it 100%.
I realized that my favorite teachers were the ones that connected to me, cared about me, and challenged me. They expected excellence from me. An excellence that I didn't always think I was capable of, yet their unwavering faith in me encouraged and pushed me to achieve exactly what I thought was impossible. I tried to teach that way. Maybe sometimes I praised too much. Maybe sometimes we had too much 'fun' in class and not enough 'focus'. Good gracious, there were many things I wouldn't do the same. But I do know this... I would always repeat the encouraging, challenging, and connecting times with my students.
The love I felt upon leaving, and have continued to feel since then has broken me time and again. In a good way though. The notes received and the messages still being sent never fail to bring me to tears. How I was blessed to student teach at a school with such beautiful people, I will never understand. But I am grateful. Eternally grateful that the Lord placed me in a place where I was able to learn, mature, laugh and cry. The last two months have shown me that and given me time to reflect with great awe upon the many blessings that the four months in England held. I have finally begun to move forward. Moving forward does not mean you forget the past. Instead, it means going forward in life, having been changed by the past and keeping those memories alive.
As overly dramatic as it sounds, my students changed my life. The imprint they have left on my heart and teaching is incredible. Without them, I would not be who I am today. I miss them so much it hurts. The fact that I may never see them again drives me crazy. But I'm grateful. It came to me that in my efforts to believe in them, support them, challenge and inspire them, it actually often had the reverse effect in that they ended up doing that to me. I left them and live on today being inspired because of them. It boggles my mind. These kids continue to believe in me, celebrating my successes, hoping for an exciting future, lovingly encouraging me to keep on. That is love. Funny how life works.
This depression fog is lifting. God is bringing peace despite the unknown future. And my kids... oh these wonderful people... they are making sure that I know that they believe in me. So, I'm up and walking again on this road called life. Purpose and joy are returning. And I have a smile, that comes from a changed and renewed heart. Come at me life!
Saturday, December 20, 2014
Forever types
I think I have probably watched my video footage of classes, rehearsals, tour, and random moments at least a hundred times by now. And I have flipped through the hundreds of pictures at least that many times. I check my school email multiple times a day, hoping for an email from a student or a late piece of homework being turned in. Half the time there is a message, half the time there isn't.
Every memory... I want to desperately hold on to it. I replay the funny parts, the sad and stressful parts, and those goose bump moments of pure magic over and over in my head. I smile and laugh and sigh.
It has only been 9 days since I boarded a plane 5,000 miles away. In that moment I felt so adult... doing what I was supposed to, facing the real world, being somewhat mature. But never have I wanted to be a child more... and turn around and run back. Leaving my kids and my brief teaching life was just about the hardest thing I have ever had to do. It broke my heart. My heart is still broken, and I am not sure how to pick up the pieces. I know that God will guide and direct and heal, and that is a great comfort.
In the last assembly I gave before coming home, I told the entire student body that 'I have the best life. I have met you all'. That still stands... meeting them... it rocked my world. They changed me through their love, laughter, smiles, sadness, and humanity. The seemingly endless five years of university prepared me for so many things in teaching, but never for falling in love with my students as a whole. So many beautiful and brilliant people, filled with dreams and passions and talents. Being with them for four months was unbelievably humbling.
Many people tell me that there will be more students in my future and more love. I know that. And believe it. But it doesn't make the broken heart heal any faster. And I think in a sense, everyone is actually a bit wrong. Because... these special people that I spend four months of my life with, will forever be in my heart. They were my first real students with my first full lesson plans, and first full programs and first full tours and first full mess ups.... with them I experienced my first tears, fits of laughter, life stories, stacks of homework to grade, nervous moments before a concert, and heartfelt music making.
Twenty years from now, I know I will still remember those sets of eyes twinkling with joy over music made, or the head thrown back in laughter, the tears running down a tired and confused face, or the moments where students told me how much they enjoyed learning from me. Those are the forever type of memories. I'm ever so grateful. Even if I never see these precious people again, they will stay in my heart for the rest of my life. That is what happens when people change you.
Every memory... I want to desperately hold on to it. I replay the funny parts, the sad and stressful parts, and those goose bump moments of pure magic over and over in my head. I smile and laugh and sigh.
It has only been 9 days since I boarded a plane 5,000 miles away. In that moment I felt so adult... doing what I was supposed to, facing the real world, being somewhat mature. But never have I wanted to be a child more... and turn around and run back. Leaving my kids and my brief teaching life was just about the hardest thing I have ever had to do. It broke my heart. My heart is still broken, and I am not sure how to pick up the pieces. I know that God will guide and direct and heal, and that is a great comfort.
In the last assembly I gave before coming home, I told the entire student body that 'I have the best life. I have met you all'. That still stands... meeting them... it rocked my world. They changed me through their love, laughter, smiles, sadness, and humanity. The seemingly endless five years of university prepared me for so many things in teaching, but never for falling in love with my students as a whole. So many beautiful and brilliant people, filled with dreams and passions and talents. Being with them for four months was unbelievably humbling.
Many people tell me that there will be more students in my future and more love. I know that. And believe it. But it doesn't make the broken heart heal any faster. And I think in a sense, everyone is actually a bit wrong. Because... these special people that I spend four months of my life with, will forever be in my heart. They were my first real students with my first full lesson plans, and first full programs and first full tours and first full mess ups.... with them I experienced my first tears, fits of laughter, life stories, stacks of homework to grade, nervous moments before a concert, and heartfelt music making.
Twenty years from now, I know I will still remember those sets of eyes twinkling with joy over music made, or the head thrown back in laughter, the tears running down a tired and confused face, or the moments where students told me how much they enjoyed learning from me. Those are the forever type of memories. I'm ever so grateful. Even if I never see these precious people again, they will stay in my heart for the rest of my life. That is what happens when people change you.
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