Lessons Learned So Far: Teaching-Year 2, Entry 1

1. You're never fully dressed without a smile.........Unless they are seriously in trouble.  If you're always good humored and smiling, then the moment the straight face appears, the fear sets in. Very handy.

2. Don't judge books by covers: Some of your most fantastic textbooks will have gum and poorly rendered drawings of things that the book wasn't originally intended to teach. Some kids present as excellent students, and yet will do no homework, pay very little attention, flunk tests, and put gum in your books. Some students will look like they're in an open-eyed coma, and come out super genius whenever their names get pulled, test scores come back, and homework gets turned in.

3. Never trust the schedule. Never. Not for one minute. Never. Never. Never.

4. No matter how thoroughly you have thought through a plan or system, until you test it on people, you will still never get all the kinks thought out ahead of time.

5. Teaching students sitting in desks is a very different process than teaching students seated at lab tables.

6. It's visibly filthier to have carpet flooring than linoleum.

7. The Promethean board is awesome.

8. Apparently, you can have too many student aides. Never would have dreamed it.

9. 8th graders can break marbles, even at table level. Seriously, it happened.

10. Someone will always attempt to steal the lab equipment. I don't know why, because we only use cheap lab materials. Hopefully, it'll be one of the broken items.

11. When purchasing a skateboard, buy one with metal axles, not plastic. 8th grades can break those, too.

12. 8th graders are capable of more than they let on. They are capable of more than they understand. They are capable of achieving high goals, if they are given the careful framework to get them there, and you refuse to ever doubt your expectations.

13. Whether they have to take the CST or the SBAC- at the end of the year, they still have to know science and how to think. That's a big enough task to worry about.

14. OneDirection is not as cool anymore. This makes using tricks from last year's slides work less. Darn pop culture.

15. Matter of fact works way better than frustration when dealing with discipline moments.

16. Crack down on unwanted behaviors fast.

17. Don't over help. If they need a pencil, remind them that they know where the borrow pencils are. Don't get it for them. Or else they'll just wait for you to do it next time, too.

18. You're part of their transition to adulthood, make sure you're an effective part. Junior high is the beginning of child to adult mutation. They have to learn about appropriate behavior in the work environment. It starts with junior high teachers, if we insist on it.

19. Put a line in the hallway and expect students to be in it before they enter the classroom. Their brains work soooooo much better that way.

20. Require the first five minutes of class to be silent work, and then go to the mat for the silence. It's amazing how much the behavior and focus improves if they have to practice containing themselves for 5 minutes every day (Also, they get their homework copied down much faster).

21. Simple rubrics are the most wonderful things in the world. Make some. Make them broad enough that they apply to multiple assignments, but narrow enough that when someone wants to argue the grade, there is a rule sheet to reference. Teach them how to rubric themselves. Show them to the parents. Quality, performance, attitude and metacognition improve. Arguments, excuses, and grading time decrease.

22. Teaching is more than informational. Teaching requires to see individuals. Teaching requires knowing when to reach out and offer help, and when to allow problems to resolve themselves. Teaching is knowing when to do a student a favor, and when to do them a favor by not doing them a favor. It requires knowing where to draw the lines. Knowing which student needs nothing more than a fist bump and nod in the hallway, and which one needs to hear, "Are you okay?" Teaching is figuring out what each individual defines as respecting them as people. Teaching is hard.

23. The moment you call the tech guy in is the moment the projector will get jostled by a careless kid and magically start working. If you're lucky. Otherwise, the tech guy will actually make there, jostle it himself, and then look at you quizzically, as if you didn't try every useful and useless trick in the book first.

24. Sticky notes are like 20 dollar bills. It's handy to have a stack of them, and they disappear fast.

25. If you like your prep, remember, next year you could easily get moved from 7th period prep to 4th period.

26. Fourth period prep makes for an optimum restroom break.

27. Dang...

28. Love your librarian. You don't realize how valuable she is until she disappears for a few weeks.

29. The food shack across the street sells large fountain drinks with the "good ice" for a dollar. Pepsi products!

30. The second year is leaps and bounds better than the first.

31. BTSA's main reason for existing is to suck the life out of the minimal amount of free time you have.

32. Science fair. It's a love hate relationship. You have to drive the students into their projects by using pitchforks and torches, and then the students chase you down during every single one of your spare moments to talk about the projects non-stop, asking questions you've already given them notes on(and they usually forget to remind you which project they're working on, which can make listening very interesting), but they weren't listening to the directions at that time because they hadn't picked a project yet. But then... they are talking to a teacher about science, during which time they ask questions, and there's a spark in their eyes that says "Sometimes science is really fun!"...and then you think: I love science fair...even though it tries to eat me alive.

33. Don't let that one kid who loves to waste time use the pencil sharpener. Especially if he is also borrowing your pencil. Enough said.

34. The second year can still be really difficult and overwhelming at times.

35. Instruction for English Learners changes severely when their Native language is not Spanish.

36. Sometimes, when school is out, you have to learn to step back and say: No...today I am not a teacher. I am not spending the whole day grading things, or working something out on the computer for Monday. Today I am going for a walk, taking a nap, doing my Bible study, hanging with friends...any thing but teacher stuff.

37. Sometimes you still have to be a teacher, and sometimes you talk above mentioned friends in to grading things with you.

38. When you plan a lab, carefully set it up, plan out all the steps, decide how to divide the students, decide how much of the lab you will guide and how much they will, decide what they will write on their papers, what they will turn in, buy all of the materials necessary, plus extras. That way, on lab day, while you are sitting under a table during a surprise earthquake drill during half a period, you can sit and think about preparation. And you'll wonder why you forget that drills always seem to coincide with lab days...

Darkness

Friendly warning: This post deals with darker emotions. Proceed at your own risk.

It’s like my whole chest has been bound in iron, and no matter how many deep breaths I take, something deep inside me is still asphyxiating. It’s like I’m being held under water, and no matter how hard I kick, how much my lungs burn and muscles ache, I can’t reach the surface; I don’t die, but I’m getting too tired to keep thrashing. It’s like everyone else’s soul is a burlap sack, sometimes empty, and sometimes filled with butterflies, and mine is filled with wet sand. It takes all my energy to get me and my bag of sand moving, let alone participate in life. Even when I get my soul off the ground, I can only pretend to be able to carry it for a short time before collapsing again. It’s as if everything but my brain has been given anesthetic, and all my brain can seem to process are my damages and failures, my insufficiencies. It’s knowing I have important things to do, but being unable to break myself away from staring into nothingness long enough to prevent myself from ruining my own life. It’s the despair of knowing I am ruining my own life. It’s having the desperate need to shriek uncontrollably, and lacking the strength to do so. It’s finding out that even when I muster up the courage and strength to scream, it doesn’t make the feeling go away. It’s feeling like I am rotting from the inside out. And, drawing from an illustration made in Unshaken, it’s feeling as if I’m trapped in a dark elevator shaft alone under the rubble of a collapsed hotel, and knowing that 

no one can come to rescue me.

 It’s all of those things, and then the understanding that these feelings aren’t changing…perhaps they will never end.

So, I try to fake it. I can’t imagine a way to express those feelings, I can’t bear the thought of dealing with people after trying to share those feelings, I don’t want to burden someone I love with my darkness. I force smiles, and avoid eye contact. I deflect questions with distracting humor, or redirecting questions, or flippant responses. I make myself insanely busy. I have moments where I hide in a quiet place. I find secret, harmful ways to deal with the darkness alone.

Depression.

I hate talking about it. I hate admitting to having struggled with it. I hate the stigma the very word carries. I hate how flippantly it is used. I hate how people try to use it interchangeably with trivial words, like “sad,” “disappointed” and “blue.”

Depression is not sadness. It’s not a mood. It’s engulfing, raging, oppressive darkness. It’s sneaky.

People who struggle with depression can often feel like they are the only broken ones. People who bear this omnipresent darkness usually keep it a secret.

I am relieved to say that I am not currently dealing with it myself, but I remember how it felt. I remember feeling like I was the only one who knew this darkness. I also remember well intentioned people mistaking it for the blues, encouraging me to “just cheer up, tomorrow will be a better day.” I remember knowing a despairing feeling as I thought about the fact that tomorrow would not likely be a better day after all: it would likely be the same kind of day that every day has been for the past several months. I remember only partially enjoying the “up moments” in that period of time, because I had learned from pattern that they would only crash down again, and the darkness would hurt more after having almost felt normal for a few hours. I remember feeling like a ghost while being with my friends or family, watching them have a good time, and only being able to watch, not feel it.

Mostly, however, I remember feeling alone. And irreparable. And crazy. Why couldn’t I just buck up? Why couldn’t I conjured enough faith, pray hard enough, repent loudly enough for the darkness to go away?

That’s particularly something Christians have to struggle against. There are many within the faith who would like to point the finger at the faith of the sufferer, shake their heads at the need for psychology, or anti-depressants. Christians who need these things get convinced they should feel ashamed of their lesser faith.

But Jesus knew the feeling. “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” I know I have not been crucified, or felt the burden of all of humanity’s sin upon me, but I also know that I have heard my soul cry out a similar phrase. “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer, and by night, but I find no rest.” (Psalm 22:1-2) Jesus felt a deeper darkness than I ever have. Part of me believes that these phrases were recorded for us: the ones who brush against an inner darkness for a long extent of time, sometimes repeatedly throughout life, the ones who feel isolated by this darkness.

It is ridiculous that anyone can think that people who struggle with depression are of a weaker faith. It takes an enormous faith to dwell in a dark and lonely place for so long and still maintain a belief in a god who is still worth following--to believe in a God who loves you, when you cannot fathom loving yourself. The kind of faith that can stand to “be still and know” through that kind of inner death is the same kind of faith that walks on water. Read through the Bible. Look at the prophets and heroes of faith. A high percentage of them battled with the inner darkness as well. It’s right there, right smack dab in the middle of their amazing life stories. I don’t think it is a coincidence that so many people God used in great ways also struggled with depression.

I have never been more secure in the fact that my God is a great and powerful God than when I had nothing but paralyzing emptiness. That knowledge remains with me even after the darkness faded. 

That’s right: it fades. One way or another, we survive. Sometimes-No-Usually, we need help to survive, whether it is family support, medical support, psychological support, or all of it, and there is no shame in any of it, no matter what some self appointed authorities on faith might say. No matter what that accusing voice in the back of my own mind says.

And after the darkness fades, I am aware that it could come back someday, and I need to be prepared to deal with it again, but I also know that I survived it. There is a certain level of strength that comes from that knowledge. It’s a strength that I never knew before.

I have already confided in you that I hate bringing this topic up in public. So, why, you may ask, did I write such a long confession?  Two reasons. 

One: Perhaps if people who have never experienced the darkness read the brief summary of how the darkness feels, they will be less likely to make themselves a part of the burden for those in the midst of darkness.

Two: People who are in the midst of darkness or may someday be in the midst of it need to know that darkness is not forever. Perhaps if people who have made it through darkness talked about it while they are on the upside of the battle, then people who struggle with it will feel less alone…less crazy, more able to talk about it with someone they can trust. People who are asphyxiating no matter how deeply they breathe need to know. They need to know that it’s not shameful. It does not have to be fatal. 

If you have felt the darkness, are feeling it now, or have family members who deal with it (because it is genetic), you need to know: You are not a burden. You are carrying a burden, but that burden, that darkness, is not who you are. Don’t bear it alone. 

It’s okay to looked a trusted person in the eye and respond, “Broken.” When they ask, “How are you feeling today?” It’s okay to ask someone to hold your hand in the midst of the darkness. 

You would be surprised how many people have brushed against that darkness, too.

Fallen Short

"for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God"

(Romans 3:23)

Almost everyone recognizes this verse. We teach it to our toddlers. Those of us who have grown up in the church, AWANAs, Sunday School, VBS... we know it by heart.

The teacher in me needs to step out of this indoctrination for a moment and ask a question. Does anyone see anything wrong with this quotation? Yes, Jimmy? That's right: it's not a complete sentence! There is no capital letter, which means there is something that comes before it, and there is no punctuation, which means that there is something that comes after it.

I challenge you, quick, before you grab your Bibles or skip on over to Biblegateway.com, what is the whole idea that this excerpt has been chopped out of the middle of? Don't know off of the top of your head? I didn't either. However, when I was assigned to look up 3:23 and read it, just 23, seeing it in the middle of a paragraph bothered me... so I read the whole thing.

Ladies and gentleman, a paragraph from Romans 3:

¹⁹ Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world may become guilty before God. ²⁰ Therefore by the deeds of the law no flesh will be justified in His sight, for by the law is the knowledge of sin.

²¹ But now the righteousness of God apart from the law is revealed, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets, ²² even the righteousness of God, through faith in Jesus Christ, to all and on all who believe. For there is no difference; ²³ for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, ²⁴ being justified freely by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, ²⁵ whom God set forth as a propitiation by His blood, through faith, to demonstrate His righteousness, because in His forbearance God had passed over the sins that were previously committed, ²⁶   to demonstrate at the present time His righteousness, that He might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.²⁷ Where is boasting then? It is excluded. By what law? Of works? No, but by the law of faith. ²⁸ Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith apart from the deeds of the law.

Now, I understand that the whole paragraph is awfully big for a toddler to memorize, but isn't "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" awfully heavy? Especially without the good part of the story? We don't let our kids go to movies with scary scenes, but they can memorize "All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God." and then follow it up with, "For the wages of sin is death;" (Romans 6:23a) (Yet another verse with suspicious punctuation warning all that we shortened because it was too big, and in turn made it too heavy by cutting out the wordy redemption part. In this one, we didn't just clip a verse out of a paragraph, we clipped a phrase out of a verse!) 

I remember not liking those verses for as long as I have memorized them. I still sigh and roll my eyes as I hear them being taught to the new generation of guilt ridden followers. They only made me feel dirty, shameful. What a horrible use of the Bible. In their entirety, they were supposed to make me feel blessed and treasured.

As adults, we mentally clip scriptures regularly as often as our subconscious feels the need to beat us down. We bask in our failures and forget the parts that glorify God's overcoming them. We need to be focusing on the whole story to be able to battle when our subconscious starts clipping the good parts out. After all, since when did any story lover stop in the middle of the chaos and trial portion of the book, and decide to move on to something else? Never. We cling to the story until the redemption, the rescue, the victory comes through.

We need the whole story.

Romans 6: 21-23 

 What benefit did you reap at that time from the things you are now ashamed of? Those things result in death!  But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the benefit you reap leads to holiness, and the result is eternal life.  For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 3:22-23

This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.  

Because we are all too aware of our sins and falling short. We know without needing to be told that we carry death within us. What we really need to memorize, carry with us, be reminded of regularly is the rest of the story.

"but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord."

"all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus. "

As for toddlers memorizing things, if they are not mature enough to handle the size of: "For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord." or all of Romans 3:22-23, then maybe we ought to reconsider whether they are mature enough to handle the weight of, "for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" and "For the wages of sin is death"

It scares us, because rule followers are easier to raise and control, but I truly believe that in a room of adults, we'd rather be locked in with the grace believers than the rule followers. Maybe grace is what needs to be drilled in from toddlerhood, rather than fear and insufficiency.

Because what is the point of learning about death and failure, if we do not learn about life, grace, and the glory of God?

If we do not learn both parts, then by clipping verses and redemption ideas apart, this is an area in which we have truly fallen short for both ourselves and our toddlers.

Follow the shadows

I exist when the shadows lean to the West.

And depart when they yearn for the East.

I remain when the sun leaves our hemisphere.

And wander off when it comes too close.

I'm the storm that overcomes senseless chaos.

And the stillness that listens to rain.

I embark on a path among wild saplings.

But leave the forest when trees are found.

I start alone but travel among many.

I end alone, then begin again.

I follow the shadows and find the saplings.

I heed the sun, and search for the trees.

Is That Supposed to Be a Picket Fence?

(This is not my picture, but when I thought about going to take a picture of a lovely house and picket fence, I realized the neighbors might get creeped out...thanks Google Images)

    Growing up, everyone has a basic idea of what life will be like when they are "grown up." We hear even little children talk about, "When I grow up, I'm gonna marry so-and-so..." and "My house will look like..." It's a natural process for children, and honestly, it's just plain cute. It's interesting how this process starts in everyone so young, this drive to achieve the American middle class dream. I started calling these the "Picket fence" dreams, because a house, a spouse, a dog, some kids, a yard, and a picket fence to keep it all in seems to be the most common picture of middle class success and happiness. It may not be everyone's personal dream picture, but we all know and recognize those picket fence dreams of how we thought our lives were supposed to go, or the pattern we think others expect our lives to follow, way back when  we were solidifying our versions of "right" and "wrong" "good" and "bad" in our childhood psyches. They all lend to the pattern and timeline people feel their lives should follow, if they are doing it right.
     As a whole, picket fence dreams are not necessarily wrong. They can be sweet and positive things. The problem comes when picket fences don't  mesh with someone's personal dreams. Sometimes those two ideals conflict uncompromisingly. Then there is the other, very real issue: Picket fence dreams cannot always be happily accomplished by sheer effort and force of will. Sometimes life does not land that way. Sometimes we are left feeling insufficient.

     The truth of the matter is, I have no picket fence around my yard. I didn't follow a path that led to a yard with a picket fence. I might never live that picket fence life. The hardest truth I had to learn about this is that I like my fence free life. I like the adventure that a less than typical path has allowed me. For the longest time, I felt that I needed to explain, justify, or just feel insufficient and shuffle off to a corner over the fact that I did not marry right out of school, I have no children, I have no house, I did not settle into a career straight out of school, I have no dog in my yard, I have no prospective leads that may lead to that life, and (here's the zinger) I do not have those things because I did not choose those things. I did not choose those things because my priorities were and are different. That last part was the hardest part for me to understand fully.

       I am in the life I am in now not because I am insufficient at life in general, but because it is the life I am best suited to live right now.

      It's like this: In the beginning, we are all given this box of materials with no directions inside.

We grow up, looking around, observing others, listening to other people's descriptions of what they did with their own box of materials. What we see is that everybody used their materials to build picket fences and beautiful lives. Some of us decide those lives and picket fences are so great, that we decide to build similar ones of our own, and this thrills us. Another set of us decide that because that is what everyone did with their box of materials, this must be what that box of materials is for, and so we dutifully decide to build picket fences just like them. As we try to do so, we develop resentment towards our awkward, lopsided, ugly fences and also the people who built beautiful fences.

     For the latter half of us, the main error is assuming that this is what everyone did with their box of materials. The reason we do this is because cute homes and picket fences are the most visible, recognizable constructions from similar boxes of materials. We fail to realize that the people who built zoos, airplanes, boats, bridges, restaurants, hang gliders, museums, and bike paths also started with similar boxes of materials. They just looked into their box, looked at the houses and picket fences around them, and said, "That's cool, but I can't sail to Iceland on a picket fence...and I think I'd rather go sailing."  or, "This would make a fantastic elephant cage! Let's go find an elephant!!!"

     I personally failed to see those things, because first, I didn't realize they started with boxes too, and second, people who decide to build airplanes with their boxes typically do not park their airplanes in the neighborhood for little kids who are trying to decide what to do with this seemingly random box of materials to notice. Third, while the boxes of materials may be similar,  I made the mistake of assuming that everybody's box is identical. They are not. Not at all. It can be very frustrating for a person to try to work a propeller into the creation of a picket fence, but sometimes, they try anyway.
 




   In the end, we all build something. We all get splinters, smash our thumbs, and run into problems, no matter what we end up building. The difference is, the people who really looked at their boxes to see what the materials actually inspire and then look themselves to see what their souls are built for, end up building quality products that they love, and the splinters, smashed thumbs, and broken pieces are just minor details in their stories of success, because they loved building it. The people who take their boxes and try to force them into what they think everyone else thinks they must create, end up with half-hearted excuses for picket fences or airplanes, splinters that fester enough to cause gangrene, an unexplainable sense of shame, and an unshakeable aura of bitterness.

It's not wrong to build a cute home and a picket fence, if that's what your box and your soul agree on.

It's also not wrong, quirky, or absurd to end up building an airplane, zoo, tree house, boat, or whatever, instead, if that's what makes your particular soul dance. What matters is this: Whatever you end up building, will you be happy or bitter about the splinters you suffered while building it?

Quaint, I know, but it has taken a long time for me to reach and fully accept this weird little epiphany of mine.

(Thanks, Google)

Now, I'm off to find a hang-gliding okapi to add to my flying treehouse zoo-restaurant thing, but I'll leave you with this sticky note:

What's in your box? What's in your soul? What are you building? Are your splinters worth it?

Is your picket fence an airplane?

Dear Me,

Dear 2 year old Me, accepting that cookie from Granny may have been one of the better judgment calls of your entire life, both before and after the cookie incident.

Dear Toddler I used to be, way to go with the earring campaign, I still appreciate you for that.

Dear 3 year old Me, there are somethings you will never understand. There are somethings that you will, eventually.

Dear 4 year old, the brothers never tame down.

Dear 5 year old Self, good move at the fair. As the years go by, you will dig, and search, and study, and strain to understand what it means to be to be a good Christian. You will try to be really great, really deep, really intellectual. You will dabble in legalism, you will try to buy your salvation with works. You will struggle to understand what the most important goal is as a Christian for years only to come to the conclusion that the simple theology you had when you made the decision originally was the best one all along. Also, eventually, you do learn that "Disciple" is not just another word for "Leveled-Up Christian." It doesn't really work like a video game. Maybe you didn't need to hold a big tent revival for your 3 year old brother on his bunk bed that night, though. He's still got some time to mature a little.

Dear 6 year old Self, you don't end up becoming a trash truck driver, but it's okay, because in the long run, you don't really regret it. You do, however, do your fair share of dealing with garbage-both figuratively and literally- and you learn not to be so squeamish about it.

Dear 7 year old, braces are more than just teeth jewelry. As much as you think you might like them, you really won't find them as pleasant as they look.

Dear 8 year old Me, someday, you are going to have a portable, wireless phone that can send and receive messages like a pager, plays music, has a calculator, clock, and a build in digital camera that can transmit pictures to other people's phones, has games on it, has a digital address book. AND, it will be yours and yours alone, and here's the real mind blowing thing: it will be small enough to fit in your pocket, and almost everyone will have one (even some 8 year olds). Seriously.

Dear 9 year old with an "all day headgear," it's only for a short span of time. There are far more painful, longer lasting, humiliating experiences that will make this one almost forgettable. On a side note, you're not going to be an Olympic Gymnast. You're too tall, and while you've got determination, it's just not going to be enough. The good news is, in a few years, you'll get your weekends back, and sleepovers are so much fun. Plus, all that time in gymnastics really gives you the mental training you'll need later, and your left ankle will click for years to come.

Dear 10 year old Me, I know you really want it, but you will never be mainstream normal. I mean it. You will always be slightly off, easy to pick out as a little odd. Let's face it, you started off as a redhead, and that was just the beginning. Before you do anything drastic though, I should tell you that this is okay. It takes you a while to come around to this conclusion, but eventually, you will realize how much you enjoy your abnormal self, how many people value your abnormalities, how very few people are normal, and how weird those normal people are. Raising those goats is really going to do a lot of character building for you. Tamagotchis really are a quickly passing phase, and though Digimon are off brand knock offs, Digimon actually end up being more fun as well as cheaper. Jonathon Taylor Thomas doesn't get many acting gigs after the Lion King. The Hansen Brothers disappear quickly, and do not manage to make "homeschooled" a cool thing to be before they go.

Dear 11 year old I used to be, moving is not the end of the world, some of your current friendships won't even be worth the trip across town to maintain. Friendships change. Some aren't meant to be forever. Things are going to get rocky, but you'll come out strong. God will never abandon you. Be nicer to your sister. You'll regret not being nicer to her once your common sense comes back.

Dear 12 year old Self, you will never get your braces off! Just kidding. You will, but it's going to be a while, and it won't be before they take your picture for your driver's license. Sorry. In general, I'd tell you to tone it down a little in the exuberance department, but since you're in junior high, I doubt you'll listen. The TV show "Martial Law" isn't going to last very long, nobody is going to remember it, and it will be pretty much impossible to find on DVDs later(media which you have yet to learn about). By the way, in a very short time, Video Tapes will be replaced with DVDs. Cassettes and VHS will be obsolete very soon. That's just the beginning, after a while TVs will only be 3-5" deep, and TV antennas will be pretty much useless.

Dear 14 year old Me: you emotionally survive the Algebra class at the junior college by the skin of your teeth, but gradewise, with an A. Not bad, hot shot! Sure, it scares the crud out of you, but completing this class is the reason you will know you can make it through much harder classes later on. Later on, you will no longer have your mommy there marching you back into class while you want to run away; you'll have to march yourself in.

Dear 15 year old Me, if you ever become that interpreter missionary with the beautifully adventurous, international life, it is not in the next decade. You also do not become a dentist or veterinarian. Because you swore you'd never be something boring, I know this may shock you, but eventually you become a teacher. I know this disappoints you right now, because you cannot think of any occupation more boring than a teacher. It's probably of little consolation right now, but it really isn't boring. If it helps, you do at some point drive an ambulance before this happens.

Dear 16 year old, when all those people and professionals tell you the acne will go away around the time you are 25, they are idiots. It gets worse. You learn to deal with it, and that your personal value doesn't rest on your complexion.

Dear scared 17 year old, nothing turns out as disastrous as you worry it will.

Dear 18 year old me, adult life is great. It's not any easier, but it's at least a different kind of difficult.

Dear polite 19 year old, when everything in your gut says, "Rooming with that girl is a horrible idea, don't agree to it." just be rude right up front about it and tell her you don't want to room with her.  It will save you a whole year of energy in rudeness. You learn a lot from it, but it's a high price to pay. Also, guys who mock you in front of your friends aren't worth the heartbreak, no matter how cool and dreamy they are.

Dear college graduate, your degree means very little to employers, you don't end up pursuing the career you thought you would, and your life training wheels just fell off on the downhill slope. Throw your feet up, hold your handle bars straight and steady, shout, "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!" so that everyone thinks you're brave instead of just shrieking, and then be ready to tuck and roll. You will discover, however, that you've got quality friends.

Dear 22 year old Me, go visit Granny every weekend. Cancel other plans, stay longer, eat more nasty food, ask more questions, sit in a room and enjoy the silence of reading and potato chips together a few extra times, rent more foreign movies, drink more tea, stay up late with her, and get up early, complete more crossword puzzles, memorize the way she smells, the way she smiles, and the way she laughs, and the way her eyes look when she's thinking deep thoughts, actually try to answer the deep questions she challenges you with, go to her favorite restaurant more often.

Dear 23 year old Self, you are not invincible. No amount of planning, rule following, sheer force of will, or strategic steps can outwit freak accidents. There are some crashes you don't bounce back from as easily as previous ones. This next part is really going to suck. I wish I could tell you how to avoid it, but I'm not sure I've figured out how you can. I'm not sure I really would tell you, anyway. Right now you will not believe that the good things you gain out of this will be worth it, but looking back, you will.

Dear 24 year old Self, you will get better, maybe not in the way you expect, but your life is not ruined. You only think so, because you think you know what it is supposed to look like. Life does not have to look like the "Happily ever after" you planned in order for it to be good. You cannot "work harder" at healing and speed things up, that only happens in the movies.

Dear 26 year old Me, don't chicken out.

Dear Me, I don't know what advice I will have for me right now in a few years. I do know that I survived all those other years making those mistakes, and growing from them. As much as I wish I could go back and set myself straight, or encourage myself with knowledge from the future, I was unable to, and yet somehow you still made it through. I'm going to attribute that to God's love and protection, and the love, support and understanding of family and friends. I wrote this for you right now, because sometimes you need the pieces strung together to see how it all worked out. Sometimes you forget too easily, and maybe someday, when you feel less positive about life, you'll need a reminder and I want to leave this here for you just in case. God is the same God, whether you are 3, 5, 17, 22, or 63 and you are fortunate to have family and friends who love, support, and forgive you.
Enjoy the life you have currently whatever it is, because looking back, it was never all bad.
Don't forget.