Tuesday, January 29, 2013

A New Page

One day you wake up with a ring on your finger and a classroom full of kiddos that you are responsible for and you wonder just what happened. How did you get here? I mean yesterday you were crying because God wasn't listening and today you don't know if you are dream Kayla or real Kayla. And then it hits you. He knows. He listens. So keep talking friends. He hears your anger and feels it. He hears your pain and feels it. He hears your wanting and begging and feels it. He hears your patience and feels it. He hears your joy and feels it. He hears your rest and feels it. Keep talking...

Monday, November 5, 2012

Stay Tuned

It's been awhile. But this is something I used to love to do and so I'm coming back. Stay tuned...

Monday, September 5, 2011

Fighting for Fellowship...

A thousand voices clamor for our attention, and a thousand causes vie for our support. But until we have learned to be satisfied with fellowship with God, until He is our rock and our fortress, we will be restless with our place in this world. -Erwin W. Lutzer

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Spinning

Things don't just stop because I am not ready for them to keep moving. Lesson learned: The world keeps spinning, and quite quickly at that.

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Torn


I got an email from Lawrence today, the headmaster in the school in Uganda. This afternoon I just wanted to go back. I wanted to be in the hot sun with red dirt on my feet hearing Simon and Lawrence give me wisdom in their broken English while I walked through the clinic and looked after those sweet babies. I wanted to go out back and play "Dock, Dock, Boose" with the school aged kids in the afternoon.I wanted to kick a soccer ball made of paper around and have them laugh at me because I am just awful at futbol. I wanted to sit and help make dinner next to the fire while the sun was going down.

But Jesus is calling me here. I will pray for Uganda. I will miss those kids and those men with my whole heart. My heart may feel torn but I know that for this time Jesus has called me here. Praise Him.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

And what shall we say?

...The Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those he justified he also glorified. What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? Romans 8: 27-31


So what shall we say? There is nothing more.

Monday, March 21, 2011

That Small Voice

Today I didn't wake up on time. No, I didn't. I hit the snooze button twice. And I didn't wear earrings that matched my outfit. I didn't mean to, but I was running late and then I forgot to put them on. I spilled my coffee all over my car. It is a good thing none of my students were around, because I would not have wanted them copying the word I mumbled as I tried to find the paper towels. At school I felt like my communication was off. Something was amiss. My lessons were crummy. My questions for understanding just weren't making sense. My jokes weren't funny (and everything is funny to a second grader, so I was REALLY lame.) I kept running over time. I lost my patience twice. Things just weren't going my way. Things were just consuming my mind. When I sat to work after school I felt so drained. That small voice in the back of my head was telling me I had made an impact in the classroom today, but it was a negative one. Then something special happened. Then he came back. One of my students forgot his homework and came back to grab it.

"Ms. Edwards, before I go can you show me one more time how to ungroup the tens? I just don't get it."

I was on the verge of tears after my evaluation of self. I managed to choke them back and pull out the base ten blocks.

"Sure." We worked for about 10 minutes, trying it together, and then I stepped back to let him work. He had it. He actually got it.

"Thanks Ms. Edwards."

That was worth it. But that wasn't all. He peeked his head back in.

"You are going to make a really great teacher next year. Your students are going to be real lucky."

Then I choked back tears for another reason. I am choosing to listen to this small voice instead.