"If one by one we counted people out
For the least sin, it wouldn't take us long
To get so we had no one left to live with.
For to be social is to be forgiving."
--Robert Frost

This week, when did I feel close to God? When did I feel far away?
Lately, many of my students have asked why I like butterflies. Whenever I tell this story, I feel close to my Creator--and I was flattered in first hour when Alisha said, "Miss Brown, you're a really good storyteller!" But I think she just wanted me to keep telling stories, instead of teaching class!
When I was in high school, my part-time job was helping out with my church's after-school daycare. My friends Stephanie and Baker were there as well, so to us it felt more like just hanging out, and not like a job-job. We still share stories about all of the kids there, how most of them are now in high school...time does rush by. Of course, for every adorable kid, there is one that is, well, "challenging." And Lacey was one of those kids.
Tomboyish, tough, and mean, Lacey always "had her card turned," which was our discipline system. Change your card to blue, sit out for five minutes...all the way to purple, which meant their parents were called in for a conference.
Lacey's card stayed purple. She bit, kicked, and cussed her way through that school year. So my friends and I figured she would get the Day Care Boot anytime--at least before summer.
We were wrong.
That summer, after school daycare became Day Camp. We took the kids to Roper Mountain Science Center, to the free movies, to the park...and to Riverbanks Zoo. The day of the zoo trip, I found I had left all of my spending money in my car (a 1961 Superbeetle, cherry red, named Eleanor), and that within my group of sugar-coated children was...yes, Lacey.
The kids were crazy, the heat and humidity of Columbia in July will make anyone bonkers, and these kids were no exception. Even a monkey-shaped bottle of water cost $8, and Lacey pours her sno cone down my shirt. At the birdhouse, she spits on a bird (I'm sure it died. There's no way it could have lived through that amount of spittle). By that time, we have over an hour to kill, and we've lapped the park twice (no, at that speed you see nothing, and yes, all of the animals scamper away in fear).
The big zoo promotion that year was The Butterfly Garden. With banners showing a large, colorful picture of a young girl watching a huge butterfly land on her hand, my kids were buying the gimmick. So we crossed the Saluda River and hiked up to the Botanical Gardens.
The Butterfly exhibit was a garden planted along a curving pathway with a gauzy, muslin tent pitched over it. Then butterflies, caterpillars, cocoons, and chrysalis are carefully added. This means you pay an extra $2 (yes, I had to borrow money from an eight-year-old), and walk through a garden with butterflies flying all around. A fluttering, dream-like world.
Of course, the kids loved it. Too much. They ran around (waaay off the path), hands out, trying to get butterflies to land on them. Just like in the pictures on the banners. The boys picked caterpillars off leaves and twigs and dared each other to eat them. I could not get the kids out of that tent fast enough.
At the end of the path and the tent was the obligatory gift shop, so I hustled them into the shockingly air-conditioned shed. And I asked for a count. At the beginning of the day, I assigned each child a number from one to ten. When I called for a count, they'd yell out their number:
"one!"
"two!"
"three!"
"four !"...and so on...5,6,7,9,10.
Where was eight?
Wait, Lacey was eight. No no no. No.
I told the other children to buy anything they wanted, just not to leave the giftshop, and I stepped back into the butterfly house to look for Lacey. I honestly thought the entire tent would be flattened, but I walked quickly down the curving path--with. no. Lacey. anywhere.
Finally, there she was. Crouched in the corner of the tent, way off the path, there she was.
And she was quiet.
And she was still.
Folding and unfolding on her hand was a large, iridescent blue butterfly.
Just like on the banners.
I asked (in awe), "Lacey, how did you get that butterfly to land on your hand? That's what all of the other kids wanted to happen..."
And she said (in a calm voice, an Other sort of voice) "Miss Beth (that's what all of the day care kids called me), you just have to sit still and wait, and pretty things will come."

I remember that every time I see a butterfly.

“Sin is the result of collaboration.” Stephen Crane
Things have been going well lately. I really enjoy my new job as a teacher.
Now, not everything is simply perfect (read last entry: no constant coffee, no guitars, no unicorns), there are times in my day where I think, “what on earth am I doing?” But hey—don’t we have those moments so we remember where to Lean? That seems to be what I use them for anyway. My heart is so thankful for my students. They are equally hilarious, dramatic, challenging, intelligent, warm, and dear to me. I enjoy being a part (well, just for 50 minutes, anyway) of their days. And I love to present literature to them in new ways. Getting a bunch of teenagers to talk about books is not always an easy task, but I relish the challenge. And since I love music, art, and movies, I notice those seem to easily mesh into the fabric of my classes.
I am moving into a new apartment on Saturday, and I am certainly ready to live closer to school. If I wake up too late to make my coffee, it makes for a looong car trip from Easley. Now, Lava Java is right across the street. Things are going well….
And I have dear, true friends helping me move. Friendships seem to be that common thread that runs throughout these “things are going good for me” times.
And after a summer of a terrible job (writing a catalogue that sells fireplaces! yes, you read that correctly) and no real spiritual growth, I find myself thriving in my daily relationship with the Lord. It is a true and all-to-rare gift to have the privilege of working in a Christian environment. I get to pray with my students, and I could not imagine a school day without it.
My brother and sister-in-law are having a baby in February and I cannot wait to be Crazy Aunt Beth (as all people should have a crazy aunt and a bachelor uncle). This is my parents first grandchild, and my mom is already buying baby clothes. Since I’m the youngest, I’m not sure how I feel about this. Anyone who is the youngest child has grown up being the star of the show, and we don’t really like to share the spotlight. Still, every time I see a baby now, I can’t wait to hold a new member of the Brown family.
I’ve gone on too long today. But my cup overflows.

"Sin is too stupid to see beyond itself." --Alfred Lord Tennyson
Describe the perfect world:
Needless to say, that's quite close to impossible. How do you describe perfection? But I'll tell you some things I'd like to see.

• I wish people did not need. Food, shelter, clothing, homes--yes, all of these essentials, but also that sort of needy-ness that's difficult to name. The need to make fun of others, the need to put themselves down, the need to lie or cheat...it all stems from some sort of pain, doesn't it?
• In my version of a perfect world, there would be coffee and many great cafes to drink said coffee in. Good, Kenya AA coffee with Sugar in the Raw and real cream. At a place like Chez Lulu in Birmingham. A quirky, warm place with delicious coffee and sugar cubes. I miss that place.
• In a perfect world, there would be more flowers and butterflies (that certainly sounds a bit like something a seven year old girl would say...how 'bout some unicorns, too?), because I think that both are beautiful, and perfection demands beauty.
• In a perfect world, all of my friends and family would live within walking distance.
• There would be music everywhere. The grass would strum its own tune as you walked over it. Birds would hum and harmonize, and all humans could easily pick up a guitar and belt out a lyric or two.

Effortlessly.
It's fun to dream, and this dreaming wakes me up to all of the goodness I've been missing.

"Writing saved me from the sin and inconvenience of violence." --Alice Walker
What does guilt feel like? Describe it.
I'm a worrier, it's true. When I have hurt someone, or when something is just not right, I feel off-balance. My world shifts and tilts. There is a heaviness in my chest, and my hands flutter--I don't know what to do with them. I laugh when I'm nervous. And when I feel guilty, I feel nervous.
I am a big avoider. I procrastinate everything from washing my car to going to bed to sending birthday cards. And then when I'm late, I feel guilt. And I'm late a lot.
This makes me sound like a crazy person, but that off-balanced, not-quite-rightness of guilt is a small insanity. How good good good it feels to lift off that lead apron of guilty thinking, to lay it down--whether through prayer, forgiveness, or admission. My back feels shallow, my feet move swiftly...and the earth swings into place. All is right again.
Guilt, maybe, is for that easy glide back to rightness. The swiftness of it all.

"Perhaps there is only one cardinal sin: impatience. Because of impatience we were driven out of Paradise, because of impatience we cannot return." --W. H. Auden

What do people think of me? What do they misunderstand?
People either think I'm creative, funny (or strange), emotional (um, moody), or smart...it depends on the context. They don't think all of these things at once, but my family may say I'm emotional, while the youth at my old church thought I was strange or funny, and my students might think I sit at home and read vocabulary words all day! Does that mean I change to fit my surroundings? Probably so. One of the most important things to me is to be authentic...to be the truest form of myself always.
People just see different facets, like the turning of a prism. Maybe that's why I seem moody...
I do think people misunderstand me sometimes. I am usually a quiet person at first. My family and friends would laugh at that description! My brother Brandon says I have a "volume problem:" when I get excited about things, I almost yell. I love laughing and making jokes. Whether it's witty or sarcastic...I sometimes don't know when to stop. So, there are two sides of me--a quiet thinker, a lover of words and beauty, listening to music, drinking coffee...then there is the loud joker, getting the last word, shouting for attention. Maybe it's the coffee. Because of that faceted-ness, I am misunderstood--you see my quiet side, you miss the fun stuff. Or vice-versa. I battle more with the loud/funny overshadowing the quietness.

"I have no faith in human perfectionism" --Edgar Allen Poe

Today has been really nice. We are sharing narrative essays in class in a sort-of coffeehouse forum. Lots of coffee (always a good thing for me!) and snacks really added a nice, casual vibe to the whole experience. And the writing is so wonderful! I truly look forward to reading the entire essays this weekend. I'm amazed at how much some of the students have seen and experienced in their lives. Truly incredible. I feel so blessed by God when I think of the blessing He's given me in all of these students. One minute, they leave me breathless with their depth and maturity, the next moment I'm laughing at their wit and wide-eye-ness.
My first hour class asked me questions this morning as part of the forum. Every one of the questions was about my love-life. Have I been engaged? How many boyfriends have I had? What do I look for in a guy? What qualities would I look for in a blind date? So funny!! I don't know how I kept from blushing.

Anyway...the journal question for the day: "What is my faith?"
For me, my relationship with Christ has deepened over the past two years. I went on a prayer retreat in Minnesota last summer and my prayer life has showed me what a strong bond I can create with God. It's truly living a life with Him! I've learned that silence and breathing, writing and talking can all be forms of prayer. The more I listen to God, the more filled I feel. To me, we all bond with our Creator in new and different ways all of the time. We just need to be grounded in our salvation, while reaching up on tiptoe for a new identity in Him.
I choose each day to follow to the teaching of Jesus. And each day I see Christ in a new way. It's a creative, challenging, beautiful way to be in (and not in) this world.

What do I like most about class?
Seeing the students each day, and getting to know them. It's so different than being a youth leader, when I only saw my youth twice a week. And sometimes not even that much. I enjoy laughing with my students, figuring out their personalities, and helping them succeed. I look forward to showing them this world of literature that I love so much. Most of all, I await the chance to share my faith story with each of them.
What would I change?
Oh, if I could, I would not grade. But grades are leverage, they wake some people up to the good stuff. I, of course, wish for classloads of students who adore writing and writers and could not wait to discuss literature. But, then again, there's no challenge in that. There's no teacher there, really. Honestly, it's my prayer that my students come to see me as a person who's a teacher instead of just Teacher.
What am I most looking forward to?
I really look forward to passing on my love of writing, to help students find their voice. The written word is vital in so many areas of life. I look forward to presenting novels in creative ways--watching movie clips, listening to songs, and forming opinions.
I really want to start a literary magazine, a showcase for writers and artists. We will see...

"Hitch your wagon to a star." --Ralph Waldo Emerson

My English teacher in high school, Mrs. Fleming, had an old laminated poster on her wall with that same quote on it. One of those cheesy, dentist office posters, like the kitten hanging on a tree branch with the "Hang in There!" quote staring at me while I got another filling.

So for a long time, I had to hate Mrs. Fleming's poster, too. But when we started reading about the Transcendentalists--all of those writers who wanted to see things in a new way, who loved the outdoors, who saw God in everything...I found part of myself in those writings, in those thoughts. I had one of those, "so this is what it's all about" moments. I get to teach this next, and I'm excited to introduce this to my students.

And I get what Ralph was talking about now, too. It's not such a dentist office quote. He's saying that there are many times that either physically or mentally we feel as out-of-place as a wagon, but there is always opportunity to rise above it all. To see things from the stars.

...on another note, I gave a really lengthy test today. They must think I sit at home thinking of evil ways to ruin their days!! But in reality, I'm so proud of my students for their hard work. Grading is not the greatest thing in the world, but it's a necessity. I remind myself again and again that their performance is directly related to my teaching. So we'll see what happens.

I love that there's a possibility for greatness like that each day.

What good shall I do today?
I want to see each person for the individual that they are...not the mask they wear, or the preconceived notions I may have for them.
I want to laugh a lot...sometimes I find myself getting too serious about things. I've felt that lately. Tensing up, stressing out about every detail. Makes a day long and drawn out--tasteless, in a way.

What are your "lost words?" (what is something you wish you had said?"
I have so many. As much as I love words, I can be shy when it comes to expressing my feelings--I'm not that assertive. So when it comes to telling someone how I feel, or if they've hurt me, it's difficult. I can write it, but sometimes I can't say it.
I'm afraid that might make me seem cold or even distant. Snobby?
I left my youth ministry position back in May. A wonderful, life-changing sort of job. I met amazing people, and I grew so much from it. And leaving was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Not because I was not ready for the change: I truly believe that God is ready to bring someone new to that church and that position. But the hard part was wrapping words around how I felt about those three years--how thankful I was, and how tired!
We live in a world of cliche. We say "awesome" when something is not really awe inspiring but just "okay." We say that we "love" Starbucks when we really mean it's "good" stuff.
Oh, well. I'm just rambling, really. My prayer would be to have my eyes opened--to have sincere words ready. To wake up to the opportunity of expression.

Have I ever told a lie...talk about it.
In a movie I saw for the first time about a year ago, one of the characters talked about how she lied all of the time, "about stupid things, too. Like, I'll say something and think, 'that wasn't even remotely true.'" And not that I can completely relate, but I think lies slip out too too easily.
We are all natural storytellers. We like to make things sound huge and exciting--more colorful. So is it bad for me to make my telling more interesting? Well, one of my favorite Bible verses (why is it that favorite verses are also the hardest for us to follow?) says that "out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks." And I know that I pray for abundant joy and peace in my heart. So if my words and actions are false...perhaps that joy and peace is as well.
And what I mean is this: I do not wish to fool myself or others. My life of faith (which I pray is the whole motion of my days), is something I value because I want it to be real and true...authentic.
So if tiny lies are seen in my Creator's eyes as sin, I want nothing to do with it. But that is a hard one for me. Lies get me out of hard situations, they buy me time, they spare someone's hurt feelings.
But I wish for the abundance of my heart to be joyful and peaceful.
And most of all, true.

On another note, I have been out with a cold for two days, and I was excited and almost nervous to come back to school today. How gratifying it was to return and greet my students! They made me feel welcome...and missed. One of those tiny moments that makes me think, "how good it is to be right here." Like coming home.

How do others see my faith...without me telling them about it?
I hope it is in every thing I do...the way I look at them, through the words I choose (and don't choose)...but thinking about just how I am in the world disheartens me. I cringe when I think about parts of my attitudes: I'm sarcastic and temperamental. I feel that others probably see that side--and that it blots out the work God is doing within me.
I truly think that others see faith at work in a person when they're not "trying to be holy." When a person is just busy living in the world--that's when the true character shines through.
It's a good thing to think about--how I am when I have my guard down, those unconscious times of just living.
But I do know this: God is bigger than all of my insecurities and moods. My Creator shines through me even in my darkest days. So while I cringe, I also take comfort in the thankfulness of that.

Where did I see beauty this week?
Walking out on the front lawn of school today, students sprawled here and there like strewn paper...looking so small, so concentrated. To think: they are creating. Not just the beginnings of some narrative essay, but of their lives--their who am I going to be's.
Beautiful indeed.
Today it's really nice (startling, invigorating, peace-bringing) to be a teacher.

Six Beautiful Things:
1. a really good cup of coffee
2. live music--especially a concert outdoors
3. making someone laugh
4. Creation: the intricate wonder of God's majestic creativity
5. the smell of rain
6. the poetry of good conversation

Fall is coming.
The air whispers to tree trunks and mottled colored leaves with a melancholy, complex wind.