Bloom where you're planted

Happy Monday!

I apologize for the week long hiatus; I've been on spring break this week, and to be honest, I haven't felt like doing anything. Literally, my entire week has mostly consisted of napping, taking walks, Zumba, googling random topics, more napping, and of course, eating. What's not to love? 

A few weeks ago, I picked up a new t-shirt from Kohl's (see below). I loved the look of the shirt, but what really stood out to me was the message behind it. In big, floral letters, the shirt proclaimed "bloom where you're planted." Y'all, I can't even begin to describe how applicable that saying is to my current situation. For those who don't know me that well, I graduated with a degree in English/Secondary Education from Appalachian State in North Carolina. I was really looking forward to finally having my own classroom and helping as many students as I could, both with their writing and life skills. As fate would have it, however, I was unable to find a teaching job. Instead, I was given the title of paraprofessional at a local high school. Basically, a para is a one on one for a particular student who has some sort of special need.

I've really wrestled with this title. On the one hand, I love the student I work with and feel so blessed to have this position. But I can't help but think to myself, "I worked my butt off for four long years. Why isn't it paying off?" I consistently worry about what my family and friends think of me in regard to my career, and at times, I can get down on myself about it. "I wasn't good enough for a teaching position" is an unfortunate statement that creeps into my mind more often than it should. What makes it even more difficult is the more time I go without teaching a class, the less capable I feel in that sort of position. It's a pretty vicious cycle and, if you let it, your confidence can dwindle as a result.

What I've learned (and am still learning) is that God doesn't put you in tough situations for no reason. He uses these times of confusion, frustration, and sadness to grow you into the person you're meant to be. 

I don't know if I'll end up being a teacher next year. I don't know if I'll be a para, a writer, or maybe a housewife. Whatever comes my way, though, I know it is in God's plan, and I should do my best not to question it.

Tshirt, Jeans, Sandals-similar

May we all bloom no matter the season,

Living with Less

On MLK day, I watched a documentary on Netflix called Living on One Dollar. In the hour long film, four college students ventured off to a small village in Guatemala to truly find out what it's like to live in extreme poverty. They allotted themselves a dollar a day per person for an entire summer, attempted to start their own business growing vegetables, and spent every night sleeping in a hut, surrounded by bugs, filth, and sickness. By the end of the trip, they had each lost around 20 pounds, been eaten away by bugs, and ingested parasites from unclean water, but they were thrilled with their newfound knowledge of what it's like to live with less.

 

 

 

Things that we take for granted on a daily basis, these young men learned to value. When they were able to eat a  banana, which was a rare treat, they savored it as if it was the most wonderful thing they had ever tasted. I'm not like that. I don't truly appreciate and savor the things I've been given. Do you? 

While most would assume their neighbors, who also lived in extreme poverty, would be regularly unhappy and selfish with their own goods (because they had so little so begin with), the exact opposite was true. Most people in the village couldn't find steady work. They didn't know if they could afford to send their kids to school, treat serious illnesses that were bound to occur, or even feed their family that day. Despite this, they were always friendly, selfless, and giving.

How ironic is it that in the US we are given so many opportunities, have access to clean water, reliable healthcare, nice clothing, and fancy cars, yet we often don't possess the same godly characteristics?

 

I am senseless with my money. Most of us are. This morning, for instance, I rationalized spending 7 dollars at Starbucks for a latte and pumpkin bread, when that seven dollars could have fed an entire family in a third world country for a week. Every morning, I wake up in a 2500 square foot home, step into my walk in closet filled with clothes I hardly wear, and spend 20 minutes in a nice, heated shower. I need none of this to survive or find true happiness. 

 

Because we're raised in such privilege, we've convinced ourselves that we need unneccessary items to be content. I need that new shirt. I need to have a nice car, or a car at all. I need to have the newest Iphone. I need to spend money on things so people will percieve me a certain way. Meanwhile, in countless places across the world and even in our own country, people are just attempting to survive. It's a horrible reality that most of us have been trained to ignore. We're so wrapped up in our own wants and selfishness, we have become numb to the genuine needs of others. I am 110% guilty of this.

 

I'm not trying to make anyone feel bad about living well or occasionally buying a new outfit, because there's nothing wrong with that in moderation; this is me admitting my own struggle with trying to find contentment in the items that are stocked at my local clothing store. But the truth is, this stuff...is just stuff. It gives me no added value. When I'm dead and gone, the last thing I want is for people to look at my legacy and say, "she had really nice things." Nobody will care about my possessions because they didn't help anyone. What did you do while you were here to better our world?

 

Simply put, I don't want to live this way. I can't anymore, because I've realized that no amount of material possessions will bring me happiness. Rather, experiences, loving on others, loving God, and giving selflessly will only bring true, unshakeable joy.

 

 

Thanks for reading,