I love Tenth Avenue North.  Their new album “The Light Meets the Dark” is one of the best Christian albums I’ve heard in a while.

In this video, lead singer Mike Donehey explains the inspiration behind the song “Strong Enough to Save,” and it reminded me of many moments on summer mission trips — moments when I realized that the only good in me is Jesus.  Only HE is strong enough to save.  I can’t.  But He lets me join Him.

Anyway, Mike says it better.  Watch the video.

Tim Black, visiting from South Africa, showed this video in church on Sunday.

So many questions…

So much hurt…

So many things that just don’t — cannot ever — make sense.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

This is my Father's world. 

O let me ne'er forget 

that though the wrong seems oft so strong, 

God is the ruler yet. 

This is my Father's world: 

why should my heart be sad? 

The Lord is King; let the heavens ring! 

God reigns; let the earth be glad!

I’ve been planning to write this entry for quite a while because I want to share with all three of my readers the amazing way that God has orchestrated these “next steps” for me (although, all three readers probably know this already).  Maybe I’m actually writing this for me, so in the days to come I remember that I am right where He wants me to be.

Anyway, the story begins in February.  Over Christmas break I polished my resume and started researching school divisions.  I eventually made a list of everywhere I wanted to apply, and wrote thirty-seven unique cover letters.  Yes, I did.  Thirty-seven.

During the months of February and March I sent in applications to those 37 school divisions and this was not a simple task.  I still think the Commonwealth of Virginia needs to develop a single online application for public school jobs and then let applicants check a box next to those divisions to which they want their application sent.  Maybe someday…

The time between then and the middle of May is a bit of a blur.  I was busy with school, so I didn’t have time to become that discouraged by the fact that not much was happening with regard to those applications.  I did have a few screening interviews and received positive feedback from those, but later found out that screening interviews have VERY little to do with hiring decisions.  By the time I figured this , it was the first week of May.  I had completed all my grad school work, and I finally had the opportunity to invest all my energy into Operation Get a Job.

I must say that the realization that graduation was upon me and I still had no “real” leads on a job led to a bit of panic.  So what did I do?  I pulled out a map of Virginia’s school divisions, and starting with the Grundy, systematically worked my way through each division from the far west to the eastern shore.  I looked up every district on the web and decided then and there that no matter how awful the location, I would apply everywhere that had an opening posted.  What a horrific list.  Seriously.  I wanted to cry as I filled out [PAPER!] applications to some of Virginia’s most rural and unappealing areas, trying to convince myself that it wouldn’t be so bad to live there.  I prayed a lot while I filled out those applications.  You see, more than anything, I wanted to be in Northern Virginia.  It seemed the best choice for a single person and many of my Grove City friends now live there.  Many of my screening interviews were for districts in NOVA and, as I said before, those interviews went quite well.  Unfortunately, I knew that there were no guarantees.  Some divisions told me right away that they weren’t going to post their list of openings until July 1 and a principal in another division let me know that over 100 people had contacted him about an anticipated opening at his school.  I knew it was going to be a long shot, and it was likely that even if I got an offer from a school up there it wouldn’t be before mid-August.

So I mailed all those applications on Monday, May 10.  On Thursday I got a phone call from one of those horrid divisions.  They don’t even have internet at school….well, they have dial-up.  Their goal for the next two years is to get a broadband connection.  Um, WHAT?  I was seriously depressed.  Then later that day another school in a more populated area gave me a call and asked for an interview.  I signed up for Thursday, May 20.  I was pretty excited about the sound of that one.  It was a city I would be happy to live in, and the school looked nice even though it was an elementary school.  Then on Friday I got another phone call, this one from Rockbridge County High School.  I scheduled it for Tuesday the 18th.

I graduated the Sunday and drove home to Blacksburg on Monday.  While I was driving home, I got another call from a school in the Winchester area.  That interview was scheduled for Wednesday afternoon. 

Tuesday’s interview went very well, although at the time I didn’t know how well.  It was unlike any of the interviews I had had up to the point – it lasted over an hour and I felt quite comfortable talking with the other counselors and the principal.

On Wednesday I drove up to Winchester for my next interview.  This one was nothing like the RCHS.  When I arrived at the end of the school day I learned that the principal wasn’t even on site.  I sat in the conference room with the assistant principal and five teachers (and the principal on speakerphone).  I don’t want to say bad things about the school, but this interview frustrated me.  First of all, I drove almost four hours for a 20 minute long interview and the person who would ultimately be making the hiring decision wasn’t even there.  Secondly, while the teachers were friendly, they clearly had no idea what a school counselor was supposed to do and they did not like the one who was leaving.  Finally, the questions they asked me were read from a list and did nothing to help me understand the school better.  I also didn’t have a chance to ask any questions because the next interview was set to begin (the guy got there before mine started and they didn’t want to get behind).  Before I left I did  manage to ask what the process would be from here on out, and the assistant principal told me they would make their final decision by the end of next week and would let me know by telephone if they were offering me the position.

Thursday, May 20, was quite a day.  I was staying at Aunt Lisa and Uncle Bucky’s house in Herndon because it made more sense to say in NoVa before driving to Charlottesville for the next interview instead of going all the way back to Blacksburg.  I was packing up my stuff around 10am when my phone rang.  I will always remember sitting in the guest room at the Ray’s house listening to Jennifer Weaver offer me the job at RCHS.  I can’t remember much about the conversation, but I do remember the overwhelming sense of relief that I felt in that moment.  Although I didn’t accept the job immediately, I knew right then that no matter what happened with the rest of my interviews, I would be employed in September.

Later that day I had my interview with the Charlottesville elementary school.  Honestly, it wasn’t that great.  I think I answered questions well, but as soon as I walked into the building and met the principal I knew I didn’t want to work there.  That, coupled with the job offer already on the table, helped me not be nervous at all, but I probably looked like I didn’t care very much….and I didn’t.  Then, as I drove back to Blacksburg, the secretary from the Winchester school called and asked if I could come back the next day for a final interview.  My response….”Ummmmmm that’s not going to work.”  Then I told her I had another offer that I was going to accept.

Seriously though?  I drive four hours for a twenty minute PHONE interview (essentially)….you tell me that this interview is the only interview….then you change your mind and want me to come again 48 hours later????  Praise God that I already had an offer.  The way the school handled the interview process made it clear that it would not be a good place to work.

To try to keep an already extremely long story from getting even longer, I will end here.  In three weeks I will be moving to Lexington to be the 9th grade counselor at RCHS.  I have met many staff members already and I think I am going to love this job.  God clearly had His hand in the job search, and while I never prayed to be in Lexington and there are still things about it that worry me, I know that it is where I am supposed to be.

Once I move in I will post about the way God was faithful in finding me a place to live and all the amazing details of THAT journey.  It’s a TINY apartment, but it’ll work for me.  I’ll try to post pics when it finally starts looking homey.

What do you think?

I was looking at my blog and decided that it was pretty, but didn’t fit with summer.  Now that Blogger has nicer templates, I think I will change it with the seasons.

I’m also experimenting with a new title.  “All This and Heaven, Too!”  I remember reading something a long time ago about someone experiencing a season of great peace.  As she listed all the ways that God had shown His love and faithfulness, she mentioned how amazing it was that not only do we experience moments of joy, receive great blessings, etc., here, but we have an eternal reward that far outweighs them all.  The phrase resonated with me and it is often on my mind. 

What wondrous love is this, Oh my soul?

And I have to close with some pictures.  Two of my dear friends from Grove City, Adam and Laura, welcomed a precious baby girl on June 7 (which was also their 2nd wedding anniversary).  Here are some pictures of beautiful Samantha Addison!

I want people to like my blog. 

I have know idea what people want to read.

So, what do you want?

Randomness, like what I’ve been doing?

Links to interesting things I read online (I’m willing to do that but if that become the whole blog, I will quit.  I have too many of my own thoughts)?

Book reviews?

A documentary of my life in my soon-to-be new home of Lexington, VA (aka LexVegas)?

Let me know….

I have a serious problem with anxiety.  Or fear.  Worry.  Lack of faith.  Call it whatever you want, the result is the same.  I am a total mess.

I have one primary method for dealing with it – plan, plan, plan, and plan some more.

Get this – I make between 3 and 5 “to do” lists on a daily basis.  [To admit this is rather humbling because I think it signifies that I may or may not have OCD….or at least OCPD.]  Throughout the day, whenever the worry or stress of life begins to overwhelm me, I pull out a post-it note and a pen and write down every minute task I need to complete and when I plan to do it.  The anxiety disappears (do you see where I’m going with the OCD thing?…). Sometimes I keep the list in a prominent place with a Sharpie nearby so that I can enjoy crossing off each completed task.  Other times I just ball up the list and throw it away.  I don’t need the list in order to remember what to do next (that will come in about 20 years – at least I’m in the habit of writing it down already).  Instead, I like the feelings of power and control I receive from the action.  It’s as if by writing it down I convince myself that I am the authority about that which concerns me.

Like many of us, I “need” to be in control.  I need to have a plan.  I need to know the outcome.  I need to be sure of the result.  I need these things in order to feel safe.

Don’t misundestand me.  I’m not alwasy this high-strung.  It goes in waves, and I am currently experiencing many intense stressors and having weeks of high anxiety.  It shouldn’t be surprising.  I am in my last semester of graduate school and trying to find a job in a difficult economy.  My grandfather passed away unexpectedly, other dear friends and loved ones are going through various trials that I am powerless to change, and these events fall in the shadow of the April 16 anniversary…a time when it’s hard to live under the illusion that I’m safe.

It’s like I said to my mom the other night – “I just hate feeling helpless and vulnerable.”  Her response: “But you are totally helpless and vulnerable.”

Thanks, Mom.  Thanks a lot.

But’s she’s right.  And I know that.  I just don’t like living day-to-day with such an acute awareness because I don’t like my default response.  Instead of kneeling to pray, I make a list of all the things I plan to control.  Instead of, “Lord, I’m acknowledging that this day is Yours to do what You will,” I clutch my pen and paper and document all that is mine.

The truth is I am helpless.  The truth is I am vulnerable.  The truth is that even as a daughter of the King trying to live a life that honors Him, I am promised no safety in this life.  And no amount of organization and contingency planning is going to change that.

I am as fragile as the cherry blossom in the picture.  Fortunately, I have a Father who knows my weakness and treats me with tenderness…

I was about to write that in His tenderness, He cares for His blossoms so that they are not crushed.  That’s not quite how it is though.  In His infinite wisdom, many blooms fall and are trampled underfoot.  But it is then that their fragrance intensifies and they bless the world in a different way. 

“But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him.  For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.  To the one we are the smell of death; to the other, the fragrance of life…”

I’ve been writing this post since Monday without much success.  To be more truthful, I’ve written three completely different posts and three times I’ve deleted it instead of publishing it.  Nothing I’ve written seems to fully capture the magnitude of what that day three years ago meant for us in Blacksburg.

In this post today, Sandy said much of what has been on my heart.  A huge part of me is never going to get over this.  There are days when the events of 4.16.07 (and the later losses of Audrey, Ian, David, and Heidi) are ever before me and it hurts. 

In the past three years I have become profoundly acquainted with grief.  Every time I start to think that maybe, finally, this town has suffered it’s share, we are given another reason to mourn.  But by His wounds we are healed.

This isn’t something I am going to get over.  While I didn’t know any of the victims personally, something was taken from me as well.  I no longer live under that sweet but terribly false illusion that I am safe and because I belong to Him, nothing horrible can happen to me or to those I love.  It can, and it has.  And I have asked Him the hard questions.  “Who told us we’d be rescued? What has changed and why should we be saved from nightmares? We’re asking why this happens to us who have died to live – it’s unfair.”

But in moments of desperate despair, “I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.  He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.  He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.” (Psalm 40)

I’m not claiming to have figured it all out.  I still don’t understand.  I still ache.  But I have been comforted.

This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved, and to know
That the promise was when everything fell
We’d be held

I could go on and on and share with you all the songs, verses, and stories that have helped me sort through it all, and maybe someday I will. 

For now, I will leave you with this (from David Crowder)


At the start, He was there.
In the end, He’ll be there.
And after all our hands have wrought, He forgives.


All is lost, find Him there.
After night, dawn is there.
And after all falls part, He repairs.


Everything has changed
Things will never be the same
We will never be the same
But the GLORY of it all is He is here
With redemption for us all that we may live
For the glory of it all.

He is here, and our hope endures.
If all is lost for you, I pray that He will be found.

Lord, increase our faith.

Please add to this list in the comments…