Twenty friends and a sloppy joes dinner and watching Knight and Day and playing ultimate frisbee in the dark with glow sticks is a very enjoyable Saturday night.
~Natalia
Status: Enrolled
29 Jul 2011 6 Comments
in College, Moody Bible Institute
4 hours
11 calls to the admissions office
and
7 classes later
I am enrolled at Moody Bible Institute
for
Fall 2011.
~Natalia
Curriculum Excitement
28 Jul 2011 2 Comments
in Blogging, Books, Kiddos, Little Sisters, Summer, Teach, Writing
Something happened to me this afternoon that has never happened before. I was sitting in my computer place at the table, which happens to be right next to my eating place at the table. I was flipping back and forth between Facebook and my google reader page, and paused to read a blog post or two. I firmly believe that reading and taking in really good writing is essential before one can produce any good writing, and sometimes, an exceptional blog post, written by one of the thirty+ bloggers that I follow, is all I need to inspire me to new writing feats.
So I was reading a Pioneer Woman guest blogger post, written by a woman who homeschools her handful of small offspring. The woman mentioned a book that she based much of her curriculum decisions on in the early years of planning, and even provided a link to the book on Amazon.
I clicked on the link, feeling a strange sense of excitement as the page loaded. An image of the book finally appeared on the screen in front of me, and I eagerly clicked on the “Look Inside” tab, and once again waited impatiently for the brief sample of the book’s opening pages to load.
After I had read the three available pages, I closed the “Look Inside” tab, but kept Amazon open. This is so strange, I thought. The idea of choosing math workbooks, or finding just the right way to teach a child to read, has never been remotely exciting to me.
Was I homeschooled? Yes. Am I bound and determined to homeschool any future progeny that I may produce? No. But I will definitely consider it very seriously. But sitting in my seat, sipping water and munching Cheerios, simply reading an introductory portion of a book about curriculum planning made me surprisingly excited.
I suppose I shouldn’t be that surprised at this sudden interest in curriculum selection. The organization and planning involved in choosing a curriculum appeals to the small amount of “type A” personality in me. The unrestricted ability to choose what I teach and impart to whatever young minds I find around is both overwhelming and full of responsibility. I like the endless possibilities; way to combine and tailor what I want to fit the needs of whoever I find myself teaching.
And I’ve had a taste of curriculum planning this summer, as I guide two small princesses through studies on math, orangutans, giraffes, Bible memorization, kangaroos, crafts and projects, reading, and much more. Our summer program, known simply as “Camp”, has been a great success and if my excitement over a curriculum-planning guide on Amazon is any indication, I believe I can look forward to many years of picking and choosing, planning and teaching in the future.
And that is rather exciting.
~Natalia
Halfway Interacting
27 Jul 2011 6 Comments
in Books, Friends, God, Grow, Realizations
“It’s really pleasant to listen to [Kakuro Ozu] talking, even if you don’t care about what he’s saying, because he is truly talking to you, he is addressing himself to you. This is the first time I have met someone who cares about me when he is talking: he’s not looking for approval or disagreement, he looks at me as if to..say, ‘Who are you? Do you want to talk to me? How nice to be here with you!’ This is what I meant by saying he is polite- this attitude that gives the other person the impression of really being there.”
~Paloma in The Elegance of the Hedgehog
As I tiptoe precariously along the line between looking introspectively to see how I can improve and grow, and looking outward to see how I can serve God and those around me, many things are slowly becoming apparent to me about who I am and how who I am affects those around me.
At the beginning of the summer, when I chose to dedicate myself more than ever before to purposefully cultivating friendships with those around me, I knew in my heart that 1) it would not be all sunshine and daisies, as real people tend to lead real lives with real issues, and 2) I had a feeling that I wouldn’t escape the summer without some realizations about myself. In fact, I hoped that I would learn more about myself.
And I have. And I am.
When I took a step back and began to study myself and how I look at those around me; how I see you and talk to you, I noticed a recurring flaw. Deep inside me, I believe that communication; talking and moving and looking and seeing and living with other people, is responding. I do this, you respond this way, I respond back, and we’ll move on from there. I have a part and you have a part, but if you’re not going to do your part, I might not do mine, either.
Because I don’t want to go to all the work of investing in someone else, if I’m not sure they’re going to put in their part of the interaction.
The main argument to maintaining this rather half-hearted manner of living with others is that it’s so very easy. I can wait and watch, test the waters and check the temperature, before I step out and do anything, and then I can recede again and wait for the response.
But what about you? What about the person on the other side of the table, the other end of the conversation? Do they feel the love of Christ when I’m passive? Do they have warm fuzzies when I avoid their eye in passing in the hallway? I think not. Hastily glazing over relationships and waiting to reach out until whoknowswhat happens does not point anyone to Christ, and it doesn’t deepen any relationships.
I want to treat those around me as Kakuro does. I want my actions and words to say, “How nice it is to be here with you!”. I want to step out, look you in the eye, and see you. And Kakuro’s not the only one who treats people with such respect and love; Jesus does, too.
~Natalia
We’re Back…
26 Jul 2011 4 Comments
in Family, Friends, Little Sisters, Photos, Summer, Swimming, Travel
(Stevy in white cap in lane 6)
from a wonderful, swimmy week in Iowa City!
~Natalia
Life Right Now {#12}
20 Jul 2011 5 Comments
in Family, Life Right Now, Little Sisters, Swimming, Travel
We’re off to Iowa to cheer Stevy on at Sectionals. See you next week!
~Natalia
I Remembered
19 Jul 2011 2 Comments
in Casa Hogar, Food, Kiddos, Mexico
This afternoon I remembered how the kids at Casa Hogar recite the times tables before each meal. I remembered standing in the kitchen, dishing out bowls of soup and listening to the beat of their recitation, voices lilting up and down as they reeled off the numbers.
I remembered, and I missed them.
~ Natalia
Tired Fun Work
18 Jul 2011 3 Comments
Coaching at a swim meet, with little ones bustling around and laughing and talking and yelling and fellow coaches lining the side of the pool, shouting encouragements and instructions to the kids in the water, and then sticking around the pool long after all the swimmers have gone home and helping tidy up and rearrange the pool, and working and talking together to get everything just as it should be
was a tiringly fun work day.
~Natalia
As He Sees It
17 Jul 2011 1 Comment
You and I see things differently. For nineteen and a half years, I have been seeing the world and the people in it from a certain perspective: my own. And you’ve been seeing it from a completely different angle: your own. We can watch the exact same thing happen, and see utterly different things. There’s nothing wrong with that; our different ways of seeing things is merely proof of what we are: unique people.
But we’re both people.
And if you and I see things differently, try to imagine how different my point of view, or your point of view, is from God’s point of view.
Oftentimes, when you and I talk, and each of us tells about our views, the way we see life and the way things look from where we sit, we can make some sense of it. I may not like what you see, but I can often understand it.
Not so much with God. I suppose sometimes He opens my eyes, or He opens your eyes, and we can see things and people as He sees them. And sometimes He enables us to see a little slice of His plan, but usually, He doesn’t.
But when a girl living across the nation, who I didn’t even know, disappears and is believed to have taken her own life, God’s point of view seems hopelessly out of reach. From where I sit, the way things look to me, it doesn’t look good. In fact, what I see does not lead me to have warm, fuzzy thoughts about God.
And that’s okay. God knows that I’m not thrilled with Him, and He can handle it. I can’t do anything to make Him love me less, and He’ll never love you less, either. But even as I wonder how He could possibly, possibly bring anything good out of this, I have to remember that He can see more than I can. A lot more. And He knows more than I do. And He has more control over the situation that I do.
I still believe that God has a plan, and I know that He is able to work everything out, but I’m having a bit of hard time understanding how He could possibly bring good out of this.
~Natalia
Natalia Writes Fictions {part 3}
15 Jul 2011 5 Comments
in Writing
For a moment, Hilary stood in front of the mirror, motionless. She stared unseeingly at her own reflection, and the power of despair began to build inside of her. She could feel herself beginning to slip closer and closer to the black space that was hopelessness. But suddenly, Hilary knew that the pain and fear that she was experiencing in that moment were nothing compared to the terror of utter hopelessness. She might live her whole life in sickening sadness and confusion, but in that instant, Hilary’s heart had felt the empty blackness of giving up, and it had recoiled.
Hilary blinked and turned toward the window, where lazy gold stripes of sun were streaming through the blinds that she had neglected to close. Her eyes stung from the brightness, but she kept her gaze on the vibrant strips. She did believe that life was not worth the effort of living it, the pain and mind-numbing repetitiveness of her life had convinced her of that. But every time she teetered on the brink of giving up, every time she peered over the edge, into the pit of hopelessness and surrender, something pulled her back. Hilary did not know what it was, but she clung to it with all her might, and she felt the blackness slowly receding.
The zombie-like sensation of the previous night had left her, leaving Hilary raw once more. The hazy obliviousness of unconsciousness seemed very appealing, and Hilary momentarily considered lying down and letting sleep consume her again, but she knew in her heart that the only way escape the black terror of hopelessness was to keep going; to keep living the very life that had brought her to the brink.
Still clinging desperately to that fleeting moment of meaning and clarity, Hilary forced herself to function. She slowly got dressed, leaning against her closet door when the pain in her head and the rolling of her stomach threatened to overpower her. Hilary weakly ran a brush through her tangled hair, and had to pause for a moment as another wave of nausea washed over her. Stuffing her keys in the first purse she found, Hilary slowly opened her door, and stepped out into the hallway.
Across the plaza and down a set of stairs, the dining hall was coming alive again as students returned from their morning at church. Round tables, each ringed by eight metal-backed chairs, filled the long, low hall; and already the tables in the middle of the room were almost completely occupied. It was at one of these tables that Hilary chose to sit, slipping wordlessly into a seat between one empty chair and a boy she vaguely recognized. A handful of the other young people seated around the table glanced up when Hilary took her seat. She nodded a silent hello, then turned her attention to the plain bagel that sat alone in the middle of her beige cafeteria plate.
Sipping occasionally from her water glass, Hilary picked a bit off the bagel with her fingers and put all of her meager supply of energy into chewing the tasteless tidbit. The conversation around Hilary increased suddenly in both intensity and volume and Hilary looked up, second bite in mouth, as three girls across from her burst into rowdy laughter. Emotional pain throbbing inside her, Hilary was acutely aware of the joking and yelling, laughter and teasing that seemed to be occurring all around her. The apparent joy of her fellow students assailed her; every giggle, each word spoken in jest, every flirty smile exchanged across the table. The same dark, black feeling that Hilary had felt that morning, and so many times before that, returned, sucking away her breath and leaving her gripping the side of her seat with white knuckles.
~Natalia
