Lesson learned: Stop trying to be someone else

I have the cutest student in my class this year. She is fair-skinned, blue-eyed, blonde, and adorable as all get out. She's a great listener, looks out for the students around her, follows all the rules, and is always smiley. Pretty much the student every teacher hopes for.

The past few days, out at recess, she's been joining the boys who play soccer and it is a hoot and a half watching her play. She runs around and looks like she knows what she's doing, but then as soon as the ball comes her away, she puts her hands up in front of her face, gets this terrified look, and just kind of freezes. Then, as soon as the ball goes away from her, she gets her game face back and runs around looking all tough again.

When the class was lining up to come in from recess, I asked her if she had had fun playing soccer. She got a big smile and told me, oh so confidently, "I love it! I'm the only girl but that's okay. I need to get lots of practice because this is my second year on a soccer team."

Her response made me smile. She didn't care that she was the only girl. She didn't care that she wasn't scoring. She didn't care that she wasn't as good as the boys. I loved that she was just out there, being herself, trying to get better, doing her thing.

The past little while, I have been wishing that I could be different. I wish I could be more adventurous, less sensitive, a bit braver, more outgoing, and not get as overwhelmed as easily. I want to be like that girl in my ward who always knows what to say and has cute hair, or that teacher who never gets frazzled, or my sister who is brave and independent, or like my husband who is always so optimistic and consistent.

I spend a lot of time comparing myself to others and wanting to be different. But I'm pretty sure that's not what Heavenly Father wants me to be doing. Heavenly Father put us all in this giant soccer game with our different personalities and strengths and weaknesses for a reason. It's okay to be the only girl. It's okay to be slower than the other players. It's okay to get nervous when the ball comes flying towards your face.

It's okay to play in the game and not be like the other players. 

I had a wise mission companion tell me once that I needed to stop trying to be like her or like Sister Spear or like Sister Free. I needed to be Sister Brown because God needed me to be in Poland. He didn't need two Sister Spears or two Sister Frees. He needed one of me, with my personality, with my testimony, and with all of my strengths and weaknesses to be there at that time.

Of course, there is always room for improvement and trying to strengthen our weaknesses, but I feel like I need to work on being proud of my personality and my strengths. So that's my new goal. Try not to compare. Focus on my strengths. Stop trying to be someone else. Be me.

Lesson learned: Unknowns can be blessings

Last week I experienced another first. I went to book club. (I'm getting in touch with my older lady mature side.) The book we read was a pretty intense true story about a boy in Africa. At one point in the story, the boy is trying to run away from soldiers who are shooting at him and he comes to a river full of crocodiles and has to swim across to get away. I was so anxious to find out if he made it across the river that I couldn't help myself and I actually skipped ahead to the end of chapter to see what happened. I know that's a major no-no, but I just couldn't handle not knowing. Once I was confident that he survived, I was able to go back to the middle and calmly read the rest of the chapter.

Sometimes I wish I could do that in life. You know, skip ahead to the end of the life chapter I'm currently in and just double-check that it will work out, then go confidently back to the middle of the chapter. But Heavenly Father doesn't tend to tell us the end when we're still in the middle. Instead, He lets us experience life as it comes but then lovingly gives us small assurances and tender mercies along the way to help us be confident in moving forward and to get us through the discomfort of not knowing how it's all going to turn out.

I've wanted to see the end of the chapter so many times in my life. I hate being in limbo land, before the decision is made, when I don't know how it will work out. It happened when I was in college and I couldn't sign up for classes because I couldn't decide on a major because I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life because I didn't know if I'd be working for 1 year, 10 years, or if I would need to support myself for the rest of my life. And it happened again when I was trying to decide if I wanted to serve a mission but I was hesitant to turn in my papers because I didn't know if I'd be able to be a good missionary, learn the language, and be okay living possibly super far away from home. And it really happened when I was feeling stuck in my "finding an eternal companion" chapter. (See that blog post here.)

In all of these situations, I just wanted to peek ahead and be reassured that it would work out, that I would be successful, that I was making the right choice, that things would be okay, and that there were good things in store for me. But, thankfully, Heavenly Father is in charge, not me, and He has shown me that there is a whole lot of goodness that can come from having some unknowns in life.

When there are unknowns, we are forced to be anxiously engaged in moving forward, we get to choose to be hopeful, we get to be diligent in staying close to our Heavenly Father through earnest prayer, we get to choose faith over doubt, we get to trust His timing, we get to learn through the struggle, we get to be brave and show courage, we get to turn to the scriptures, conference talks, and loved ones for answers and guidance, and we get to have experiences all throughout that life chapter that change us and mold us. These experiences and blessings wouldn't be ours if we knew all of the endings.

I recently have had to put this principal to test, yet again. A couple of months ago, Trevor and I started the exciting nine month pregnancy chapter. Sadly, this chapter ended up being a shorter chapter than we had expected. So we then turned the page to begin the miscarriage chapter and now we are on to the next chapter, which I'm not sure what to call yet. I have been tempted to be discouraged by this new chapter and I've felt that familiar unsettled feeling start to creep in as I so wish that I knew how this next chapter was going to turn out. But, instead of getting sucked into all of that, I am trying to draw from past experiences, remembering that it's okay to not have a set plan, paying attention to the feelings of calm and peace that are coming our way, and I am trying to look for the lessons that I will get to learn in this new chapter.

And I keep thinking of these words from one of my favorite hymns: "Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene— one step enough for me." I know it's easier said than done (and I'm mostly saying this for my own benefit) but we do not need to be afraid of the unknown. We can trust the Author of our chapters and just keep reading along, page by page. It will all work out.

Lesson learned: Stick with it

My brother gave us a waffle iron for a wedding gift. Waffle irons are great. They assist in creating wonderful waffly goodness for us to enjoy. But new waffle irons are also a tricky thing. I am usually overeager the first time and I pour too much batter and it oozes all over the sides and I end up making a waffle with a tu-tu. So then I make an adjustment the second time but end up pouring too little which results in the fun-size waffle chip. Then it's (hopefully) by the third time that I finally get my act together and pour the right amount of batter for the perfectly filled out, well-rounded waffle.

Sometimes in life, apart from waffle-making, I am tempted to give up after the first try. After the first week of classes in a new semester, after the first day at a new job, after the first month on the mission, after the first Sunday in a new ward. I feel like it's too hard, it's not like what I'm used to, I'm never going to get the hang of it, it's not what I expected, and I want to go back to where everything was familiar and where I knew all of the answers.

But just like with the waffles, I'm learning that if I stick with it, I generally figure things out and things get better. A lot of the time, for me, it's the fear of the unknown and the discomfort of new-ness that makes me want to quit. But if I can have faith and hang in there long enough to learn from my mistakes, make adjustments, include the Lord in the process, and try again, the skies the limit and I can do anything. I just need to give it a chance. Give it one more day, give it one more try, give it one more transfer, give it one more Sunday, give it one more go. And then it will get better or easier or more comfortable or I will know more.

Right now I have a lot of new in my life. I have a new job, a new husband, a new apartment in a new state, a new temperature outside, a new ward, and a new way of living. Most of the time I'm happy. Most of the time I love it and feel blessed beyond words. But sometimes it feels like a lot. Sometimes it feels like I used to be able to make wonderful waffles but now I have a new iron and I won't ever be able to figure out how to make that perfect waffle again. But then past experience tells me that I need to stick with it and give myself a chance to figure things out and give the Lord a chance to work things out for my good.

Because that's what we do. We sign up for hard things or we have hard things put on our plate, and then we stick with it. And eventually, with the Lord's help and some patience and maybe some mistakes, things get better and we figure out how much batter to pour in our new waffle iron.

Lesson learned: Open up and share what you learn

A couple of days ago, one of my students walked into my classroom with one of those looks that told me it had been a rough morning and he was bringing his Mr. Grumpy Pants with him to school. I tried to be all positive and bubbly and first grade teacher on him, but it did nothing to change his mood. He just sat at his desk and wouldn't do his morning work. I told him encouragingly that he needed to get it done, at which point he threw his notebook on the ground. I picked it up with a smile and suggested he just work on the first one. And then he ripped out the page and told me I was annoying. At which point happy first grade teacher went away and we started having some consequences.

Three and a half hours, one tantrum, 10 minutes in think time, the silent treatment from both parties involved, one missed recess, and several exasperated sighs later... he finally got his morning work done. And then it was time for lunch. (In hindsight, yes, I probably should have handled this differently and not let it turn into a power struggle. So... I'm not a perfect teacher.)

But the point of the story is actually what happened the next day. Mr. Grumpy Pants came to school all smiles, thank goodness, but there was another kid who decided she didn't want to do her morning work that day. Just as I was thinking to myself, "Oh, no. Not again..." Mr. Grumpy Pants went up to Miss I Don't Want To Do Anything and told her, "Hey. Just do it. Then it won't take forever and you won't be sad and you'll get recess." And then something incredible happened... she sat down and did it. I was amazed. And, oh, so grateful that Mr. Grumpy Pants had stepped up and helped out.

More and more, I am realizing that God wants us to learn from our trials and mistakes not only so that we can become better and grow closer to Him, but also so that we can help others become better and grow closer to Him.

But, in order for this to work, we need to start telling people what we have been through and share the things that we've learned. Yes, that means we will have to be vulnerable and share some of our weaknesses, which tends to make us feel super uncomfortable. But if we all just keep pretending that we have life figured out and that we never make mistakes, then we are never going to be able to help others who, you know, don't have life figured out and make mistakes. Why not be open and possibly save someone from going through a hard lesson to be learned?

In the education world, did you know that students actually wouldn't do any better if they were taught one-on-one all of the time? Research has shown that students learn better when they are in a class. Why? Because there is a social aspect to learning. Students can teach and learn so much from each other. There's a reason that we have all been put into families and friendships and relationships and communities and groups and wards. We are supposed to help each other. And learn from each other. That's the whole point.

Lesson learned: Sometimes we just get to be brave

Today took courage. I knew it would be that way. I knew that it would be not so hard for some and really hard for others. I saw the butterflies in their stomachs. But we just had to do it. We had to get through the first day. My first graders just got to be brave today.

They got to be brave when there were a kajillion kids running around before school started. They got to be brave when they said goodbye to their mom and walked through the front doors. They got to be brave in the cafeteria with all of the big kids. One kid got to be brave and ask for help when he realized his class had left the assembly without him. (My bad.) They got to be brave and play with kids they had never met before. They got to be brave and stay the whole day, even though it probably felt like the longest day they've ever had.

But the beauty of it all is that tomorrow will be easier. Less courage will be required. They will get used to things, they will make friends, the hallways will become familiar, and I will eventually stop calling them bud, hun, or "kid in the green shirt." They just needed to be brave today. And maybe tomorrow. And then they'll be able to do first grade.

I totally felt for my kids today because I get it. I know what mustering up courage feels like. Being brave is not one of my most favorite things. I think I thought that once we grew up, we wouldn't have to be brave anymore. Ha.

I've had to be brave so many times in the past few years. I got to be brave in college as I moved away from home and started the whole being an adult thing. I got to be brave on my mission (to the nth degree) as I approached random people on the streets and told them about the things I know to be true...in Polish. I got to be brave as I interviewed for teaching positions. And then I really got to be brave every morning as I walked into work that first year of teaching. I get to be brave in dating as I allow my heart to be put out there knowing there's a possibility of rejection and heartache. I got to be brave this weekend as I was honest with a couple of friends and told them about some things that are hard for me. And I got to be brave today as I put on my don't-worry-I-know-what-I'm-doing face and embarked on another year of teaching.

But just like my first graders who needed to just get today under their belts, I was able to do all of these things because, for just a moment, I could be brave. I just needed to get through the door, onto the plane, into the conversation, my hand in his, standing up, out of the car. In those moments where courage was required, I know that my strength came from a loving Heavenly Father who knew that I just need a little push. Elder Bednar said, "...as you and I face challenges and tests in our lives, the gift of faith and an appropriate sense of personal confidence that reaches beyond our own capacity are two examples of the tender mercies of the Lord." I love that quote.

So while it's not my favorite thing, by any stretch of the imagination, I'm learning that so. many. good. things can come from just bucking up, relying on the strength of the Lord, and being brave for just a moment. Usually that's enough to get you going (or at least get you in far enough that you're stuck and can't back out).