arrive.

word of the day: arrive \ə-ˈrīv\ to achieve success

Today, I arrived. Today I mark myself as an official teacher. Yes, it's true. I have made it.

I suppose some background is required.

One of my favorite classes in college was United States History. I think most of the reason I loved the class was because Dr. Gundlach, the professor, loved the subject that he taught so much. His passion for all that was founding father was evident and I soaked it all in.

I remember one day very vividly. Dr. Gundlach walked in a little late. He made his way to the front and got all his things in order before he spoke. He told us he was sorry he was late, but he had a small mishap right before class. Apparently he had spilled coffee all over his desk and the papers that were covering it. He was late because he was trying to dry out all that the coffee had touched.

He then went on to tell us that you are not officially a teacher until you spill coffee all over your desk. He arrived that day. He made it. Just as I did today.

This morning started out as any other. I stopped at Rich's on my way to work for my usual two-shot, large vanilla latte. I adorned the lid with a pumpkin sticker and went on my way. Once at school, I walked into my room, turned on the light, and walked down the hallway to put my lunch in the refrigerator.

When I returned, there it was. The styrofoam cup stood proudly on my desk and the pumpkin glanced up at me with its goofy grin. I went to take a drink, missed my mouth completely (which shouldn't surprise anyone), and poured coffee all over the clean pages of my lesson plan book.

I stared proudly at the stain before I could bring myself to clean it up. This was it. The moment I had been waiting for. I had arrived.

Obviously I told my students. And obviously their response was an immediate round of applause. I don't think any other response would have been appropriate.

So there you have it. Let it be known that on Tuesday, October 26th I, Molly Flinkman, have officially become a teacher. I have also officially started looking for the opening of my coffee lid before I take a drink.

Maybe that's the greater achievement...

allure.

word of the day: allure \ə-ˈlur\ to entice by charm or attraction

I taught my ninth graders the word "enticing" this week. We began a unit on mood in literature and spent some time discussing six specific "mood words" that would come into play throughout Poe's "The Cask of Amontillado."

I pulled out a story from my elementary school days in order to further illustrate "enticing."

Witch's Brew happened during many a recess. All of us girls would gather by the benches on the corner of the playground to assign roles. One would be the witch, one the mother, and all the rest of us would be the children. The witch would escape to her "lair" by the tether-ball poles and we would set up "house" at the benches. Shortly after, our poor mother would leave her children to fend for themselves while she went to the "store" to buy us food.

As we played, the witch would make her approach, stand outside our "door," and offer us candy if we would follow her.

She enticed us with the promise of candy. Do you see the illustration? I'm not sure all the ninth graders did...

Of course we would follow her because we wanted the "candy" (and if we didn't follow, the game was pointless). She would lead us to the tether-ball pole lair where we soon found ourselves "trapped" because of our own innocence (I think we used those exact words too). We would "cry" and "panic" until our mother returned from the store and followed our trail to the lair. Upon arrival, she would march in a circle around the poles chanting very softly, "Witch's Brew! Witch's Brew! Witch's Brew!" Slowly but surely she would gain force as we joined in and when the chanting reached a certain decibel level, the witch would be defeated and we would skip "home" happily.

Either that, or we would skip back into school, because I'm pretty sure this game took up most of recess.

When I finished the story, each block of ninth graders looked at me dumbfounded and at least one kid per class asked, "You seriously did that more than once?"

The answer is yes and I know some of you reading this can back me up (although some of my details may be hazy).

My ninth graders, inquisitive souls that they are, then made a good point. They noted that sometimes we are enticed into good things and others bad. They said that the smell of baking cookies when you get home from school is enticing you to walk inside whereas the witch enticed us poor helpless children into a trap. We noted today that even though Fortunato is enticed by the wine, Montresor is, in fact, enticing him to his death (See "The Cask of Amontillado").

At this point you're probably wondering why the word of the day isn't enticing.

This is why:

Therefore I am now going to allure her;

I will lead her into the desert

and speak tenderly to her.

- Hosea 2:14

Allure: to entice by charm or attraction

I was reminded today of God's winsome heart. Of His tender voice leading me into the desert.

But why the desert? Why does God allure me to such a dry and desolate place?

The desert is still. Quiet. And what better place to hear God's voice than a place where there is no other sound? In the desert, God's voice can be heard more clearly.

The desert is bare. Empty. And what better place to feel the need for God than a place where everything has been taken away? A place where you can clearly see that He is all you need.

Isaiah 49:2 says, "In the shadow of his hand hath he hid me, and made me a polished shaft, in the quiver hath he hid me."

I read some great commentary on this just a few days ago:

"In the shadow. We must all go there sometimes. The glare of the daylight is too brilliant, our eyes are injured and unable to discern the delicate shades of color, or appreciate neutral tints--the shadowed chamber of sickness, the shadowed house of mourning, the shadowed life from which the sunlight has gone. But fear not! It is the shadow of God's hand. He is leading you. There are lessons that can be learned only there" (56).

Perhaps God leads us into the desert because it's only there that we can learn what He has for us.

Perhaps I just have to follow the tenderness of His voice.

Just like we followed the witch to the tether-ball poles. Except that it's totally different.

Martin, Catherine. "The Broken Heart." A Heart That Dances: Satisfy Your Desire for Intimacy with God. Colorado Springs, CO: NavPress, 2003. 53-58. Print.

jake.

word of the day: jake \ˈjāk\ all right; fine

In case you wanted a life update, everything is pretty much Jake around here. I think the following about sums it up:

abscission.

word of the day: abscission \ab-ˈsi-zhən\ 1.) the act or process of cutting off 2.) the natural separation of flowers, fruit, or leaves from plants at a special separation layer

First and foremost, I want to thank my mom for letting me plagiarize her fall photos. She sure has an eye for the beauty of creation and they fit perfectly with the theme of this post. Plus, you may remember that I don't have a lot of extra time lying around. So, thanks mom. You're pretty much amazing.

Everything seemed especially quiet today as I drove up my driveway this afternoon. Fall always seems to enter the picture with a certain stillness in the air and it never ceases to make me all the more reflective about things.

Every year I wish Fall would overstay his welcome. Each October, he comes to town, unpacks his suitcase of vibrant colors and cool temperatures, and then gets the heck out of Dodge before you've even asked him to stay the night. It's not like we complain about his presence. If anything, you'd think he'd like the incessant attention he gets for being so wonderful.

For some reason I felt the urge to research the falling of leaves today. Maybe it was the stillness in the air. Maybe it was my desire to know why they don't stick around for longer. Either way, I came away with some interesting new knowledge thanks to Google and Robert Krulwich.

Apparently leaves don't fall off trees as I always thought. Apparently "Fall" is a little misleading.

Abscission, by definition, is the act or process of cutting off. The wind isn't responsible for the falling of leaves, rather, the tree itself is. According to Krulwich, once the time comes for a tree to lose its leaves, "little cells appear at the place where the leaf stem meets the branch. They are called "abscission" cells. They have the same root as the word scissors, meaning they are designed, like scissors, to make a cut."

The leaves don't fall off. They are cut.

Does that rock your world like it did mine?

Then I got to thinking that perhaps there was more for me to take away from abscission. Like maybe the act itself was symbolic of something bigger.

That's when I stumbled across Romans 11:13-24:

I am talking to you Gentiles. Inasmuch as I am the apostle to the Gentiles, I make much of my ministry in the hope that I may somehow arouse my own people to envy and save some of them. For if their rejection is the reconciliation of the world, what will their acceptance be but life from the dead? If the part of the dough offered as firstfruits is holy, then the whole batch is holy; if the root is holy, so are the branches.

If some of the branches have been broken off, and you, though a wild olive shoot, have been grafted in among the others and now share in the nourishing sap from the olive root, do not boast over those branches. If you do, consider this: You do not support the root, but the root supports you. You will say then, "Branches were broken off so that I could be grafted in." Granted. But they were broken off because of unbelief, and you stand by faith. Do not be arrogant, but be afraid. For if God did not spare the natural branches, he will not spare you either.

Consider therefore the kindness and sternness of God: sternness to those who fell, but kindness to you, provided that you continue in his kindness. Otherwise, you also will be cut off. And if they do not persist in unbelief, they will be grafted in, for God is able to graft them in again. After all, if you were cut out of an olive tree that is wild by nature, and contrary to nature were grafted into a cultivated olive tree, how much more readily will these, the natural branches, be grafted into their own olive tree!

I suppose at this point I could go into a deep theological discussion about the parallels between abscission and God's covenant.

That's not what struck me the most, though.

Frankly, I am most encouraged to see God's Word in action. He tends to paint vibrant pictures for me during the times when I need to feel the reality of His word the most.

Perhaps you'll take away something different. Perhaps you'll explain to me the deep theological parallels between abscission and God's covenant. That's the beauty of it, though, isn't it? God promises to meet us where we are. He promises to continue to reveal His truth to us if we'll only open our eyes and look for it.

So hurry. You'd better get a good look at Fall before it's too late. I think I overheard him saying that he'd like one more Pumpkin Spice Latte before he starts to pack his suitcase. That doesn't give you much time.

Sources:

Krulwich, Robert. "Why Leaves Really Fall Off Trees : Krulwich Wonders… : NPR."NPR : National Public Radio : News & Analysis, World, US, Music & Arts : NPR. 30 Oct. 2009. Web. 12 Oct. 2010.

.

clothe.

word of the day: clothe \ˈklōth\ to endow especially with power or a quality

You may remember my friend Holli. She's the one who coined the phrase "Have a mango day," and one of the ones who helped teach me what true community looks like. The most important thing you need to know about Holli right now, though, is that she got married last Saturday.

And she was stunning.

Holy cow, she was stunning.

So were her bridesmaids...

I'm such a wedding sap and I love every moment of the festivities. I have found that I don't often cry at weddings, however. Instead, my chin tends to get really quivery. Sometimes my eyes well up, but more often than not, my mouth just trembles. I get this quivery feeling at two specific moments: The first is if someone asks me to tell them how much the bride means to me. If you ask me to simultaneously sum up my relationship with a best friend as well as encourage her into matrimony, my throat automatically starts to tighten. The second time is during the processional. There is so much power in that gaze isn't there? It's a feeling of "we're really doing this, aren't we?" and "there isn't anywhere else I'd rather be."

Pretty emotional, quivery stuff if you ask me.

Also pretty symbolic.

As I was reading my Bible today, I kept coming across passages that reference God clothing us in righteousness.

I will greatly rejoice in the Lord; my soul shall exult in my God, for he has clothed me with the garments of salvation; he has covered me with the robe of righteousness, as a bridegroom decks himself like a priest with a beautiful headdress, and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.

- Isaiah 62:8

Now Joshua was standing before the angel, clothed with filthy garments. And the angel said to those who were standing before him, "Remove the filthy garments from him." And to him he said, "Behold, I have taken your iniquity away from you, and I will clothe you with pure vestments." And I said, "Let them put a clean turban on his head." So they put a clean turban on his head and clothed him with garments.

- Zechariah 3:4-5

Let us rejoice and exult and give him glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; it was granted her to clothe herself with fine linen, bright and pure -- for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.

- Revelation 19:7-8

What a beautiful picture Holli's white dress paints for me of God's faithfulness as a relentless Romancer. God promises to clothe me in fine linens of righteousness for no other reason than because He loves me. No other reason.

And that makes me think of my quivery chin as Holli walked down the aisle. Perhaps it wasn't all because of the way she and Chris were gazing at each other. Perhaps it is because that moment reminded me of my need to draw near to God. My need to declare to Him, "You have me. You have my heart completely."

Out on the farthest edge

There in the silence

You were there

My faith was torn to shreds

Heart in the balance

But You were there

Always faithful

Always good

You still have me

You still have my heart

I thought I had seen the end

Everything broken

But You were there

I’ve wandered in Heaven’s gates

I’ve made my bed in Hell

You were there still

You have me

You have me

You have my heart completely

"You Have Me"

-Gungor

time II.

word of the day: time \ˈtīm\ conditions at present or at some specified period; season

The clock in my bathroom still says 3:21. I told you the concept of time would resurface.

This time, the subject speaks to me in terms of seasons rather than numbers on a clock.

If you walked in to my house right now, you would see the following things on my kitchen table: flashlight, lunch-box, Bible, coffee mug, set of sunglasses, 2 bottles of white out, various DVDs, and a baby's teething pacifier. In fact, there is so much clutter on the kitchen table that Jake and I have been eating off of our coffee table for the past month.

If you walk up the stairs into our bedroom, you will see a laundry basket on its side with clean clothes strewn all around it. The socks aren't even matched and the shirts get more wrinkled by the day. If you make a 180 degree turn, you will see a black chair covered with dress clothes that I sort through every day. It has become my new closet.

Inside my planner you will find a to do list of things that never get crossed off. Instead other things get added and I decide to stop looking at the list all together.

The other day I had 15 emails in my inbox and zero motivation to even read any of them.

September 9th was my last blog post.

I stopped my last "time" blog post at this point. I complained about all the things I don't have time to do and couldn't thinking of where to go from there.

I have direction this time.

I have felt bogged down by my season of life lately. It has brought with it new burdens that I have never experienced before and stresses that I was not prepared to encounter.

And so I complain, and whine, and cry, and wonder why God has me in this place if I'm going to be so stressed out all the time. I convince myself that this season in life isn't worth it because of the way I'm feeling. Because of the burdens I'm bearing. Because of the amount of work I have to do.

It was at the height of this self pity that Gandalf convicted me.

That's right. I said Gandalf.

I watched The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring for the first time last week. I could probably devote an entire post to how much I love Samwise Gamgee, but that's beside the point. This is the conversation that really hit home for me:

Frodo: I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.

Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. There are other forces at work in this world Frodo, besides the will of evil. Bilbo was meant to find the Ring. In which case, you were also meant to have it. And that is an encouraging thought.

I suppose I lost sight of the big picture again (like usual). I mean, who am I to decide that because life is too stressful or too overwhelming that I'm in the wrong place? Who am I to wish that this season of life had never come to me?

Now, I don't mean to be over-dramatic, and by golly, I am so thankful to be doing a job that I love and was made for. It's just that every now and then I get that feeling. The feeling where I think for a second, "This is too much work, God. Please deal me a new hand."

That's not for me to decide. All I have to decide is what to do with this time that has been given to me. I was meant to end up in this season of life and I was meant to experience every moment of this time. There is a purpose set by One who prepared me for this very task.

And that is an encouraging thought.

musings.

word of the day: musings (myoo-zing) thoughtfully abstracted

I wore a scarf today. First scarf day of the fall season, and let me tell you, it was grand. So grand, in fact, that two ninth graders stopped me in the hall to take a picture of my scarf for their fashion class. I tell you what, I could wear a scarf every day and never tire of the feel of it around my neck.

Last week I came home after school to a house that smelled something wonderful. I looked around for a candle or air freshener of some kind when I noticed the open window and breeze blowing in. The wonderful smell was Fall itself. You'd better believe that I pressed my face against the breeze and welcomed my old friend back. Nothing beats the smell of a fall breeze.

Tonight I donned a hoodie AND flip-flops, which if you ask me, is the ultimate combination.

I spent an hour reformatting my blog tonight to give it a more autumny feel. Did it work? Do you feel like going and jumping into a pile of freshly raked leaves?

How else do I know Fall is upon us? Football is on our television right now, it gets dark much earlier that 9:00, and Pumpkin Spice Lattes are back.

I love fall.

But I think I say that with every new season.

Life has been a whirlwind lately, to say the least. With everything new there is stress, anxiety, and moments where I just want to put my feet up on the coffee table and stop thinking. That's when I remember to pay attention to the little things.

For instance, tomorrow I get to wear jeans and my Beat State shirt to show my Iowa allegiance.

Jake has given me a present every day of the month of September so far. I didn't think he would actually follow through with the twelve days of September concept, but he has - wholeheartedly.

Every day I come home to a clean house thanks to Jake's thoughtfulness.

My mom keeps buying me black whiteboard markers and Clif bars, which happen to be two of my most favorite things in the whole world.

Sometimes those little things matter the most at the end of the day, don't they?

Sometimes it's in the form of an email from a friend who just wants to tell you that she's praying for you.

Sometimes it's a text message from your dad with a Proverb to add some perspective to your day.

Sometimes it's the fact that it's Friday and you have a date with your husband to look forward to.

Whatever it is, I'm learning that the little things have the power to change the dynamic of my day in even the slightest moment. They can ease my stress or put a smile on my face in even their simplest form. Again, I suppose it's all about perspective. The small things tend to remind me of the bigger picture.

And that's why I still haven't put batteries in my bathroom clock. In the grand scheme of things, is it really all that important?