Wanted: Handyman

Must be able to:

Hang ceiling fans

Paint cabinets

Install plantation blinds

Caulk molding

Frame mirrors

Power-wash siding

Scrub shudders

Anchor Arbors

Any interested applicants,

Please apply immediately.

Be Trust.

I see an pattern in people around me, growing with indifference and apathy to selfish strain, that leads to lifestyles and decisions which mold and thrive on personal happiness, instant gratification, quick fill, and self-centered schedules.

I see calendars, I hear excuses, I watch patterns. It becomes "whatever looks better" or "feels better" or "invitation's better" or "attendees are better"...

And it leaves a longing for.... Commitment. Integrity. Character. Trust.

A desire for people of their word. People whose actions match their speech. Whose handshake is strong, and signature means something. Whose 'yes' mean 'yes', and 'no' means 'no' (Matthew 5:37).

People who are dependable, honest, true, solid. Trustworthy.

Be one of them. Be someone who says something, and follows through with it. Be someone who stands aside from leniency, and stands instead in community.

Be Commitment.

Be Integrity.

Be Character.

Be Trust.

Holding Broken.

"We don't mend each other's brokeness, we just hold it tightly." ~ Craig Barnes, as quoted by Paula Rhinehart in Strong Women, Soft Hearts

Make Plans.

"I don't want to 'not make plans with you' -- I want to make plans with you..." ~ Declan in Leap Year.

Forgive me for the rom-com quote... But there is something in this, that women long to hear. Someone who will be there, who will commit, who will look together towards the future without fear, or having to hold back, or wait over control. Make plans. Care. Future. Depend. Safe. Hope. Commit.

The Broken.

Each day, the broken walk into my classroom...

I am being made new in heart. I am being transformed. I am being broken, for the broken.

It is my students who are transforming me; it is my God who is breaking me.

For their losses, for their need for hope.

In the last week or two, love has broken through my door. And broken through my heart.

I hear their stories, I see their faces. I hear fists hit lockers, backpacks strewn, then a knock at my door. I watch tears down his face, pleading... I see her writing, crafting letters of hurt to journal it through, passing the time by filling the space... I see his face, back row, lingering with wanting to be known, to talk, to explain how much it hurt... I feel her weeping on my shoulder, shaking as we sit on desks, crying... I see his hat come off, his eyes once hardened now playful in the safety of space... I see her face paled, hurting over mothers words, needing someone to cup them... I smile to his wave down the hallway, chubby grin, lurking for belief in possible... I watch him stare, a progress report rewarded, shame washed by relief, exclamation, determination...

They come to me. In the hallway. Sharing stories. Of night events, classes, sports, boyfriends, magic tricks. They follow me around the room, waiting at my desk, lingering afterward. They lower their eyes, with need, with want, for care in their concern.

Hope. Looking, needing, Hope.

I see the broken.

For the broken, I am breaking. Being broken.

God is doing a new work in me. He is breaking me for my students. Giving me a heart for their heart, for their broken, for their hope, for their need for Him.

Every day, the broken walk through my door....

Unplug.

I'm starting something new tonight. I'm moving my phone away, my internet away. My distractions and functions that lead me to the endless road of banter and a cranium traffic jam.

So, the phone goes back in the main room; the computer stays back in the closet at night. No more off to bed with one last Facebook check. Or waking up to see who texted in the night.

No more basing my life on the amount of words (aka. love) I receive from people from 11pm-6am. Or adding myself to the strangles of endless status' which I feel I need to be updated with every hour of the day...

So, it begins here. It begins tonight. Unplug. Off to store it away in the closet... Off to rewrite the script of the night, and hear the Spirit of the Story.

Creating Home & Family.

"You know that point in your life when you realize that the house that you grew up in isn't really your home anymore? all of the sudden even though you have some place where you can put your stuff that idea of home is gone... you'll see when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it's just gone. and you can never get it back. it's like you get homesick for a place that doesn't exist. i mean it's like this rite of passage, you know. you won't have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it's like a cycle or something. i miss the idea of it. maybe that's all family really is. a group of people who miss the same imaginary place."

-andrew largeman 'garden state'