Another poem from my heart today

To the 2020 Class

(© Rachelle D. Alspaugh
04/15/2020)

Dear 2020 Senior

You weigh so heavy on our mind

Ending high school without closure

Just feels a bit unkind.

So much anticipated

Senior trips, awards, and prom

Making memories with friends,

Not stuck in quarantine with Mom.

You came into this world

While we looked back in disbelief

After the events of 9/11

Left us with unimaginable grief.

Left to wonder what kind of future

Awaited you, dear child.

How scary now to raise you here

With so much innocence defiled.

Yet your world did not include

Any pre-9/11 days

God chose you for this time

And prepared you for this phase.

You’re strong and you’re resilient

These losses will not set you back.

Instead they’ll only strengthen you

And make this class a mighty pack.

Mighty to face yet another

Future world we could not see

Mighty to change her for good,

To face challenge so valiantly.

God has purpose for your class

And now that you are grown

With that confidence we can launch you

Into what seems a twilight zone.

Dear 2020 Senior

Embrace the time at hand

Know that this season of loss

Is still part of a bigger plan.

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I sent the nations to YOU

This post has swirled about in my head since early November of 2019, the day I took this picture from a missions newsletter that came in the mail. The subtitle caught me and spoke clearly to my heart. I knew that voice well.

God had settled this issue in my heart before, but events of the last year had left me grappling with doubt once again that perhaps I'd missed it. Missed my calling, my purpose. To go into the nations. And then I heard that confirming voice again when I read that sentence. The United States has more immigrants than any other country in the world.

I brought the nations to YOU.

I heard Him say it clearly that day in early November, and I've heard Him whisper it in my ear nearly every day I got out of my car and walked across the playground toward my classroom.

My students flashed across my mind the moment I first heard it, along with all my teammates and coworkers from all over the world. I thought of all the parent conferences I've had with moms, dads, aunts, uncles, and grandparents from Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Colombia, and even Argentina. I thought of my teammates and coworkers, and fellow soccer moms and dads from the same countries as well as Venezuela, Puerto Rico, Bolivia, Nicaragua, and the Dominican Republic.

I thought of my friends from my Life Group and Bible studies from Ecuador, Chile, and Mexico, and then I remembered my own son from Colombia, along with his sister's family from Spain and France.

God took me to Buenos Aires, Argentina as a young 20-year-old to equip me to later distantly mentor a Colombian "son" who now lives and works in the same big city where I studied. I spent a summer interning as a summer missionary in Tasquillo, Hidalgo in Mexico, and now I teach a little girl whose parents grew up in that tiny, little town where she, too, visits in the summers. I went on a mission trip to Piedras Negras, Mexico, and now I have a beautiful friend I call my little sister who lives there, plus one of my current student's families is from there, too. God allowed me to work and minister for a week in Guatemala two years ago, and now three little Guatemalan students have looked to me as one of their first teachers here in the United States.

I may teach in a public school where my faith is technically banned due to separation of church and state, but that doesn't mean I can't/don't live it out in front of them every day. It doesn't mean I don't minister to them wth Jesus' love and compassion, letting God use me to mold their character. I still influence them and model a life surrendered to Jesus, and every once in a while their families catch on.

My teammates and coworkers know exactly who I am and who I live my life for. God gives me countless opportunities each year to minister to them through prayer, encouragement, and small acts of service. They describe me as having a sense of peace surrounding me, and some have even commented that I seem to have a direct connection to God through prayer. My social media makes it clear I am a Christian, and many people have told me how my books and my blog posts have helped them want to draw closer to God.

I've joined, led, and taught women's Bible studies at my church, leading hundreds of women find a closer intimacy with God over the years. I've spoken and told my story to women who aren't even a part of my church.

I've lived through broken marriage and let God use my struggles to help others in those shoes. I've experienced loss through both miscarriage and a failed adoption, and now I can give hope to others grieving the same types of loss.

Now I sit here on my front porch, while the entire world waits in quarantine through a global pandemic, and I record daily video messages to check in with my students. My daily video literally takes me into each and every student's home to tell them I love them and care about them. I pick up my phone to conference and guide parents from at least five different countries, giving them a sense of stability and comfort during a critical time in history.

Today, on my 21st wedding anniversary, I look back at that 21-year-old girl, full of dreams and plans to "follow the call" into a life of full-time missions--assuming that meant overseas or at least past the borders of my own country.

She had a degree in ministry with a focus on education and cross-cultural communication. She was equipped with the language and the cross-cultural experience after studying abroad in Argentina and interning with missionaries in Mexico. She'd researched and chosen a mission board with her new husband and had a five year plan to get onto the field as a couple. 

Satan did all he could to derail every bit of that plan, to destroy our marriage, to pull out all of our financial means, to disarm us physically, emotionally, and spiritually, to make sure we didn't follow that call. By the end of those five years, we'd already been through battle with him and felt like we'd lost. But what Satan means for evil, God meant for so much good. He allowed us to fall apart, multiple times over multiple phases. God allowed all of it to keep us from following that plan and going abroad.

Instead of sending us to live and serve in Mexico, Central and South America, or even Europe, he sent us to Texas. And rather than sending us to the nations, He brought the nations to us.

To me.

In my classroom. In my Bible studies. In my Life Group. In my own family.

Via social media. Via my blog and my books. Via my church.Via adoption. And even now, especially now, via daily videos from my virtual classroom and digital conversations, while the whole world sits in quarantine.

I'll admit the thought crossed my mind many times over the years that perhaps I missed it. Perhaps I missed that "calling" to the mission field, until God convinced that nothing can thwart his plan for me. Nothing. In actuality, he prevented me/us from going to one nation and instead sent me briefly to several nations, equipping me, in order to bring the nations straight to me.

Within any given week I usually converse at least once with people in Argentina, Colombia, Mexico, and Spain, while daily influencing whole families from at least five Central American countries. And right now, through technology, I get to go into each and every home and allow God to shine His love through me. I don't take that responsibility lightly. It's a daily reminder that I'm living out exactly who God called me to be.

Interestingly, God used a current letter from the very mission organization I'd "chosen" so long ago to speak to me today. Our calling is to follow God daily, wherever and whenever He leads, even if it's "just" to Texas.

Look for the blessings

So, I'm switching from the senior-mom-hat back to the teacher-hat and writing from the teacher heart today.

That wasn't my intention when I sat down to write a poem, but as the words came tumbling out, that's the direction they led. I fell in love with poetry and specifically with rhyme back when I was about ten years old, and I've never tired of it since. When my world gets quiet and thoughts stir in my head about something, those thoughts don't tend to fall together until they spill out in rhyme.

I can't stop thinking about just how full February felt and how it utterly exhausted me by the end of the month. I tried to add some extra personal things to my schedule, forgetting what a bear the month can be at school, but it all truly wiped me out. I couldn't wait for a week off to just relax and reconnect with my family before getting back in the race to finish the school year strong.

Gettiing through all those parent conferences was incredibly taxing, but I'm so glad for that recent strong connection with parents because I had no idea how much I'd need them to stand behind me and trust me for the rest of the school year.

I'm so glad I went on that writer's retreat, as stressful as it was to fit in, because it reminded me how much I miss when I don't take the time to write. It drew my heart back in to the one thing I enjoy more than anything, the one gift I have to give others when the world grows quiet and I grow quieter still.

I'm so glad I spent time with my mom that last weekend in February, then a day with my parents for lunch, coffee, and shopping, and then once more for tea with my mom during spring break because I had no idea it would be the last time we could physically get together for quite awhile.

I'm so glad I scratched my plans that last Friday and gave my kids a chance to shop in our class store so they walked away with a happy memory of what might have been their last day in my class. I'm so glad I sent home their Reading book we just finished, and all their old pencils, promising new ones upon return. I'm so glad I found a birthday card on the back of a Little Debbie treat box and gave it to my student whose birthday was the day AFTER spring break, a day I assumed I would see him, just to make him feel special. Little promptings I'm so glad I followed through on.

More than anything, I'm so glad I've been teaching my students since they were four years old that they are in charge of their own learning, and that learning happens everywhere, all the time, and it feels good every time we learn something new. I'm so glad I encouraged them to be creative rather than following a rigid rule of how their work needed to look.

I miss them, but I'm so encouraged by what they've shown me so far. Of course, I have students I need to call and beg for work--just like at school. But for the most part, that's not the case. On the contrary, these kids have an incredible opportunity to learn differently, at their own pace. How much they want to learn is completely up to them.  I'm not convinced that's a bad thing right now.

Behind the Current Crisis

February felt so full

My calendar was packed

Activity filled each day

Margin severely lacked.

First one weekend filled up

Then a second one claimed time, too.

When the last weekend plan came,

I reluctantly pushed through.

Extra meetings filled the weekdays

With parent conferences and SST’s,

Added student challenges, 

And testing that wouldn’t cease. 

Spring break Friday finally came

That first weekend in March.

My body thirsted for rest

As so much frenzy left me parched. 

Class had to be fun again

My kids needed a reward

All the endless testing

Had left them tired and bored.

We set up a class store

And spread all the goodies out

They spent all their plastic coins

And learned what money’s all about. 

I sent home extra books

Old pencils and supplies

The expectation to keep learning

Came to them as no surprise. 

My job as their teacher

Is to equip and to inspire

So they can guide themselves

To always learn and never tire.

To engage with a new book

And get lost in it for hours

Whether it be about real life

Or a kid with superpowers.

To practice making problems

And add big numbers up

To practice math in the kitchen

and use a measuring cup.

To find new things to learn

To problem solve all day

To create something new and fun

And make connections while they play.

That Friday when we said goodbye

With their backpacks extra full

We never could have imagined

We might not come back to school. 

Now I’m left to guide them

Through a video and a screen.

They’re the ones in charge now

As we do school in quarantine.

They’ve stepped up to the challenge

Sending pics of their notebooks, 

Videos explaining their learning

Cute photos of their reading nooks.

Their creativity blossoms

Pride in their presentation has improved

The work is suddenly organized

And their sweet comments leave me moved.

Though I set out to inspire

They now daily inspire me

With the joy they find in learning

And their boundless creativity. 

My body now feels rested

As all the rush has ceased.

I grade papers from my phone

My digital knowledge has increased.

I get snuggles from my kitty now

In place of my students’ daily hugs.

I drink my morning coffee

From my huge supply of teacher mugs.

I am still their teacher

But truly they are teaching me.

That learning looks so different

When mixed with creativity.

They’re working at their own pace

In their chosen cozy spot.

They choose different modes of presentation

Than perhaps the one I sought.

They’re directing their own learning

And finding ways to organize

Perhaps behind this current crisis

Lies a blessing in disguise.

Missed expectations

Today hit a bit harder than most. Played with my emotions a little bit more, tugged on my heart strings a bit stronger. 

Earlier this week, they closed schools indefinitely till May, leaving just about two or three weeks till graduation--if we even go back at all. Yet we all have pretty much accepted the latter, that we likely won't go back.  Graduation is the question on everyone's mind--how does this affect our seniors? I will admit, I've been quite anxious to know what kind of plan they've even been able to come up with, considering the magnitude and uncertainty of the situation at hand. David's hope was for a drive-thru graduation so he can proudly drive the truck/rock crawler that he and his dad built together. Lol.

Well, Dallas County extended our Shelter-in-Place order this morning, and then the district almost immediately followed suit and officially closed schools (physical schooling) through the end of the year. No final days on campus with our students to close the year. No Senior field trips, prom, special days, etc. We finish the  year with at-home/e-learning, and that's it. The official graduation ceremony now has an alternative date set for mid-June (almost an entire month after the original date), and then another alternative date set for early July if June isn't possible.  Then later in the day, we got word that there'd been a mistake, and they switched things back to schools being closed indefinitely at least until May 4th, and that they'd reassess the situation then. But now we at least have alternative graduation dates set up, just in case. Truthfully, I still don't see us going back. 

I sat restless the rest of the day after getting the news about graduation. Suddenly the teacher side of this didn't matter to me. The parent side wanted to cry. This is truly the craziest year ever. I'm thankful my son isn't too attached to high school and had already begun to pull away earlier this year, dropping down to only three main classes so he could work more hours for the work-release program. He's really not that emotional about any of it, but I'm sure it still stings. I'm probably much more emotional about it all than he is. I mean, as a parent, you dream of (and dread) your child's high school graduation from the day they enter kindergarten. You never expect a global pandemic to mess with it!

On top of a graduation date now pending, his trip to Africa is likely (not officially) up in the air for now, as well. Who knows if it will be safe to travel even by July. All I know is that God has already provided almost 70% of his funding, so He's obviously prepared to send him somewhere, whether it's Africa this year or next, or somewhere else at a later time.

I find peace in the fact that he spent New Year's in Atlanta at the Passion Conference, literally praising God in song with 62,000 young adults as the clock struck midnight and 2020 began. In fact, we watched it all LIVE on our own television. It was incredible.Yes, God was preparing my son's heart for such an unpredictable year ahead, filled with many disappointments and loss over things we didn't ever think could be tampered with. 

The other day someone wrote about how their word for the year was PRAY, and they realized how fitting that was in the midst of these circumstances. I couldn't remember what my word was for this year, so I went back and checked.

RELEASE.

Wow. 

I see it in a whole new light now.

Here's another poem that God laid on my heart today. 

Release

I asked God for a word

To guide me through this year.

“Open up your grip,” He said,

“And release that child you hold so dear.”

Release his future to Me

Surrender every fear and what if

Release your need for control

Accept when expectations start to shift.

2020 turned the corner

And filled my eyes with tears.

As you celebrated in Atlanta

In worship with 62,000 peers.

A powerful way to begin

A  year with so much change ahead.

Graduation, Africa, and college

Were where my thoughts all led. 

Expectations indeed quickly shifted

With those milestones now hanging in midair,

Never could we have predicted

Living through a global pandemic this rare.

You likely won’t ever walk down

Those high school hallways again.

Even your graduation date

Is pending till who knows when.

God raised your funds to serve in Africa

Yet the whole trip now sits on the line

You’re accepted and ready for college,

This was your year to shine.

When God gave me the word release

I couldn’t begin to fathom why

That to launch you into the world

You’d need wings of faith to fly.

Faith that God’s not surprised 

Faith that this has always been His plan

Faith that you’re fully prepared

Because He won’t let go of your hand.

We never saw this coming

Yet now it stares us in the face.

We can grieve the loss of expectation

but we must search for daily grace. 

God is gonna use this

To strengthen your faith, my son.

You’ll look back and see His fingerprints,

When all is said and done.

You’ll see His purpose unfold

And you’ll realize that in this year

Through living in such uncertainty

He proved that He was near. 

Knowing full well I cannot protect you

From so many disappointments ahead

I surrender these missed expectations

And release you in faith as He said.

The things we take for granted

In the midst of finding everything we possibly can to thank God for in this uncertain time, I think it's equally important to physically name the things we're missing, those things we took for granted, assuming they'd continue to be available just as much as before.

I think it's part of the grief process. Acknowledgement. Because let's just face it. We're all grieving. Life paused in so many aspects, and we don't know when it will ever go back to the way it was, if it ever will. Of course, this crazy virus isn't going to keep us confined to our homes forever. But big events like this change everything when we finally do get to move forward.

So what exactly are you missing today?

I miss those daily hugs from my students. 

I miss coffee shops and getting together with a friend for coffee or tea.

I miss weekly visits with my mom over a hot cup of chai.

I miss date night, a chance to get out and go out to eat with Mike.

I miss routine, structure, and productivity. 

I miss not having to think about an icky virus every time I touch something.

I miss those quiet afternoons at the gym on the weekends. 

I miss all the weight machines at the gym. 

I miss being able to come and go as I please. 

I miss visiting my parents and their sweet dog. 

I miss physical meetings because virtual meetings are pretty close to uncomfortable phone calls to me. 

I miss being able to plan and schedule things.

I miss being around my close circle of friends.

I miss my classroom and all of the unused supplies inside of it. 

There's a whole lot I don't miss--like all the rush and noise cluttering my mind, all the lack of sleep, all the testing at school, etc. But that's not for this post.

I just wanted to put a name to all those things I took for granted, and I hope you'll do the same. Just the simple act of naming them helps us through that first stage of grief--acknowledgement that it even exists.

Don't Waste Your Life

I love quiet mornings, I love spring, and I love my front porch. 

So this recent closure of school and working from home is truly a gift to someone like me. I am choosing to embrace it and cherish it as an opportunity, thankful every morning that I wake up healthy. My teammates today told me that I'm the calming force keeping us all together, and that I really seem to be in my element. I think I might just have to agree with that last statement. 

I can extend my quiet time a bit later each morning before I quick do my hair just enough to look presentable for my daily video check-in with my students. I prop up my phone, press record, give them any new updates, tell them I love them, miss them, and I'm proud of them. I love this new opportunity to connect with my kids in such a different way, literally "going into" their homes every morning to greet them as they tackle their school work in their pajamas. 

Then I grab a cup of coffee or tea, sit outside in my "office/classroom", and take some time to read in between answering phone calls and texts from confused parents and students (usually about technology) or review, approve, and comment on assignments as they come in periodically all morning. It's less busy work now and more authentic learning going on for most of them. Honestly, many of them are giving me much better work than they ever did in the classroom. Their choice of presentation for each assignment is so unique. Some take pictures, some draw, some record their voice with the picture, and some just make me the sweetest videos explaining their work. I am absolutely loving what I am seeing from the majority of my kids, and I make sure to tell them every morning just how proud they've made me. 

David brought this book home from the Passion Conference that he attended in Georgia over New Year's, so I asked if I could borrow it to read it while I sat outside in between communication spurts with my students and families. 

Wow. What an incredible read and inspiring (convicting) challenge at such a time as this. If you haven't read it, I suggest that there's no better time than now.

 Since the students submit a lot of their work in the evenings when their parents are home, I spend a lot of my evenings still tending to all of them (with a long break in the afternoon). Thus while I was still out with my book after dark. 

To sum up the book, here's a page that really stood out to me, pointing out that God truly has an agenda for this current circumstance across the globe. (Last sentence before the bold words).

I've struggled quite a bit to focus this last year. I'd get up every morning and just felt restless in my soul. I never dreamed that I'd have (likely) the rest of this school year to finally find that rest and focus that I so longed for. I never dreamed I'd have so much extra quality time with my son before he graduated high school this May, especially considering what a busy life that boy juggled between school, work, church, trucks, and friends. Now we're together almost 24/7, playing games, watching movies, catching up on TV shows, and just talking about life. Today we went for a long, two hour walk together to enjoy the sunshine, to reminisce all the walks we used to go on when he was little,  and to reflect on how this year changed so many things. 

I don't know what the future holds, and that can lead me to a bit of a panic when I can't plan a single thing on my calendar for his graduation. I also can get into a panic as my husband faithfully goes to work each day, risking himself and our family out on the "front lines" of this invisible war going on. I constantly gripe at him and my boys to "sanitize themselves" and wash their hands, and they constantly gripe at me for freaking out so much. I teeter-totter between finding the positive and freaking out over every time I hear about someone else getting sick. 

But every day my family and I wake up healthy, I know this time is a gift, and I'm choosing to cherish it. I don't want to waste it by freaking out or fearing the worst when there's so much beauty and peace right in front of me. Today's grace. I want to embrace the quieter mornings, releasing the rush that kept me restless, and spending more time to focus on my relationship with God and the relationships He's put in my life.