Best excuse ever.

I think one of the greatest things of all time in all teacher history happened to me yesterday.

You see, my school district asked all teachers to have their online curriculum rolling out on Wednesday morning by 7:45. No biggie, right?

Well, I won't go into that here.

BUT.

Despite all the stress shaking my body (no pun intended, as you will soon read), I managed to do it!

Almost. . . I got all classes except one uploaded on time.

As it turns out, I actually had a pretty good excuse as to why the curriculum for my French 3 class got uploaded late.

See if you can find my excuse.

So yes, that happened. An earthquake. I had gotten up early and driven to school to finish the last bit of work before rolling out my curriculum, and as I sat at my desk talking to my mother about how online schooling was going to work, I heard a huge rumble.

It started off relatively loud, and then it sounded like it was getting closer and closer. In fact, it sounded like someone was going to bulldoze the school.

But then the walls started shaking. I watched them ripple and couldn't believe what was going on. "Mom, Mom!" I cried. "It's an earthquake!"

Immediately, she asked where my grandparents were.

"I'm not at home, mom!" I sobbed. "I'm at school!" Everything shook for the longest 15 seconds of my life. The sound was terrifying. And I could not stop the pounding pulse and the shaking muscles that now raged through my body.

Is this real life? 

Gratefully everyone was alright. When I received word to evacuate the building, I immediately grabbed my things and left. No one had to tell me twice.

The rest of the day, we experienced aftershocks, some worse than others, but nothing like the initial quake. Sometimes, I would look down at my legs to double check and see if it was another aftershock, or just my trembling muscles. Usually it was the latter.

My grandma taught me a lesson yesterday, one that I intend to remember. As I rushed into the house when I got home and another big aftershock shook the house, I froze in my tracks, trying to figure out how I would help my grandpa if the shaking got worse. Was another quake coming? My grandma suddenly appeared in the hall and hugged me. Making sure she was ok, I finally let out some of my tears and confided how scared I was and how scary that had been. She simply said to me, "I just prayed. I sat in my chair and I just prayed."

And isn't that a wonderful answer? We cannot control what the earth decides to do. Nor can we control how the tectonic plates choose to shift or shake. We are subject to them. But God is in charge! And who better than God to have there to help us when everything going on is out of our control?

Yesterday, I was afraid.

Yesterday, I surrendered the fear.

Yesterday, I prayed for strength and courage.

Today, I can't quite put my finger on it, but I think that I'm a little braver than I was before.

An earthquake might shake the earth, but I won't let it shake me.

Here's to a happy future and trusting in God.

Let you go.

A poem for anyone who just needs to grieve. 

How many more heartaches

Must my fragile heart endure

As I stumble through the day

Searching for a cure?

How many more memories 

Which once brought a smile

Am I wont to erase

Because of this trial? 

How many more tears 

does each day require

To fill in the emptiness

I have acquired?

With a heartache so real, 

A burden too heavy to bear,

I can't help but reach out...

Though you're no longer there.

When my heart longs to dance 

In your arms once again,

When I just want to hug you

Like I did way back then...

When I just want to be 

In the kitchen with you

Cooking away

At our dinner for two...

When my voice longs for music 

That together we'd sing,

or for watching Hogan's Heroes

With brownies and ice cream...

When all of these dreams 

Come back with such force

That I can't hardly breath - 

For they cut to my core,

Then I close my blue eyes

And I let my tears flow,

And I whisper in sadness

That I must let you go.

These innocent dreams

I'll try not to remember, 

For you didn't wish the same...

And now you're gone forever.  

Temple blessings

“Can I ask you a question?” I hesitantly inquired.

“Yes, have a seat!” he responded. 

The temple sealing room was quiet and calm, and the chandelier above us was sparkling bright and beautiful. I proceeded to ask my questions, hesitant and afraid to be so vulnerable. But I asked. 

And he answered. 

And God filled my heart with peace. 

Peace. It’s so hard to find nowadays. 

After listening to him answer my question, I then posed another. “I’ve been really struggling to know what my role is now. I just feel like I don’t know anymore.” 

With tears in his eyes, he paused for about twenty seconds, and then with conviction in his voice, he said, “You just be faithful. You just be faithful, and no blessing will be withheld. You just do the best you can. And you already are.” Peace swept over me as I listened, and I knew that God had just answered my prayer. I knew that I had my answer of what I needed to do.

So I’ll keep trying to be brave, trust in this next answer I have received, and proceed with faith. Thanks, Laura, for a wonderful temple trip ❤️

Love, Sunshine

I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand

If you were to ask me what my favorite aspect of teaching is, you’d probably be surprised at my answer. Oh yes, the kids are great (mostly), the summer break is a bonus (the likes of which I have yet to experience), the school isn’t too far away (yes, no I-15 for me!), and I have a relatively good grasp on my subject matter (despite feeling very inadequate at times).

No, if you were to ask me what I like most about teaching, I’d have to say that it’s the drive home.

Yes, let it be forever known that the best part is driving home.

Why? Well....

-It’s impossible to grade papers
-Students can’t ask me about their grade
-parents can’t ask why their child has a B+ instead of an A
-No one will sneeze on me
-I don’t have to stand up any longer
-If I’m hungry, I can eat
-An administrator can’t pop in on me and observe me
-I can listen to a General Conference talk and just simply EXIST for fifteen minutes. Sometimes more, if I’m lucky and traffic is bad.

There’s something so rewarding about having done something hard and looking back to see that God carried me through it. Granted I was the one speaking and preparing lessons and standing on my feet, but he was the one giving me the strength and ability to do it all.

Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow I’ll do better at structuring that one speaking activity. Tomorrow I’ll hand the tests back. Tomorrow I’ll tackle the grades and the sneezes and the whining and the sarcasm.

We all hit mental exhaustion sometimes, and as my wonderful counselor said, “You just need to take care of your emotional needs, and I promise you things will go better. You are human and you have a right to feel what you feel. Get validated. Ask someone to tell you how your feelings make sense and that you’re allowed to feel them.”

Another thing I love from Elder Holland in his talk “Like a Broken Vessel”,

“So how do you best respond when mental or emotional challenges confront you or those you love? Above all, never lose faith in your Father in Heaven, who loves you more than you can comprehend. As President Monson said to the Relief Society sisters so movingly last Saturday evening: “That love never changes. … It is there for you when you are sad or happy, discouraged or hopeful. God’s love is there for you whether or not you feel you deserve [it]. It is simply always there.” Never, ever doubt that, and never harden your heart. Faithfully pursue the time-tested devotional practices that bring the Spirit of the Lord into your life. Seek the counsel of those who hold keys for your spiritual well-being. Ask for and cherish priesthood blessings. Take the sacrament every week, and hold fast to the perfecting promises of the Atonement of Jesus Christ. Believe in miracles. I have seen so many of them come when every other indication would say that hope was lost. Hope is never lost. If those miracles do not come soon or fully or seemingly at all, remember the Savior’s own anguished example: if the bitter cup does not pass, drink it and be strong, trusting in happier days ahead.”

Better days ahead. Trusting in that is sometimes all we can do.

And for now? I get to drive home.

Yesssssssss.

Tears don't hurt like the ache does.

All day, I felt them - right up against my eyelids. I tried to smile a genuine smile, tried to show my students I was invested in their learning.

It's too much, I told myself.

All day, I felt exhausted, both physically and emotionally. I tried to help a student who came in for help during lunch, my only break time. "I just don't want to come after school," she said. Sometimes it's hard when students don't realize you need a break, too, but I didn't know how to tell her that I just couldn't today. I just couldn't. She really needed the help and never comes in to get it. So I said a prayer and stood back up from my chair.

Hold on a little longer, I told myself.

All day, I hurt. I can do anything for an hour, I can do anything for an hour, I said.

It's too much, I told myself.

"You're in pain, Alissa. You need to validate how you feel. That's the only way you can heal, hon," my counselor's words ring in my ears. I remember how often she has told me this, that the only way humans can heal is to get validation around their pain. I guess I have a hard time doing this since I had been so consistently invalidated by the one I loved, by the one I wanted to love me. 

It's all too painful.

And then... in an instant, it's all back. Again.

The time he told me he needed to go find other friends to spend time with. What about me? my heart cried.
When he didn't want to be around me, or listen to my frustration or anger. But I listen to you, please can you listen to me? I wondered.
When he walked away in the moment I wanted and needed to connect with him most...Don't you love me? I asked myself and never dared ask him.
He left me there. Alone. Crying. Invalidated. What is going on? my spirit pleaded.

Slowly I regained control of those thoughts, let the tears out, and tried to stop the spiral, tried to count some blessings. I listened to Saints (a book) on  my way home. I finally got home to my wonderful grandparents, and my grandma had already made dinner. What a blessing she is to me. After dinner, I decided to do my scripture study before getting back to work on my lessons. What a wonderful miracle I experienced as I read in Jacob chapter 2 - some of the most validating words in all of scripture, in my inexperienced opinion :) God validated all my feelings from today.

This is what He told me.

It's pleasing to God that I, as a woman, have "tender and chaste and delicate feelings", (v.7). And He has "seen the sorrow, and heard the mourning of the fair daughters of [his] people. . . . because of the wickedness and abominations of their husbands" (v.31). And he will not let "the cries of the fair daughters" go unnoticed. No, he will protect us and help us as long as we are faithful to him!

Amidst all the pain, God truly has been so good to me.

Yes, the tears don't hurt like the ache does. Somehow, God managed to reach down and validate that ache. And a little, just a little bit of it, I can feel is gone.