So I really shouldn't be blogging right now. My sinuses are full with congestion, my eyes are drooping, and every part of me is screaming to go to sleep. Yet I couldn't help but be inspired to type out a few (hundred) words before I slowly slip off to dreamland.
Outside my apartment is a balcony. Said balcony leads to stairs, which leads to a parking lot. In the middle of said parking lot is a small grouping of trees. Tall they stand with branches drooping, swaying to and fro. Within said small grouping of trees live two birds. Not just any birds, no, said birds are doves. Pure, white doves. I caught sight of one as I walked up to my door. Through the night's darkness and the leaves there she was, almost glowing. She sat, perched up high, waiting for her mate to return. Each time I see her I can't help but smile.
A small sign of peace. Thanks God.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Friday, October 5, 2012
Trouble in Paradise
There is a lot more that goes on between the worlds of heaven and hell than we might be aware of, or want to admit to. This week I had the disturbing pleasure of coming in contact with that of the latter.
I have a student (well technically I have 23) in my class. She is 20% servant hearted, 40% attitude, with another 40% full of drama. There are days where I just don't know what to do with her, but nothing could be comparable to that of this week.
Wednesday, morning recess, I come to gather my children to go inside for their next lesson. Two of my girls come running up to me. "Ms. Jameson, Student A scratched Student C!" I checked Student C's arm. Student A hadn't scratched Student C, no...she had pinched her so hard that the other student began to bleed. I will say this flat out, Student A lies, a lot. So I had to gather my witnesses and hear the full story. I had a talking to with Student A and things were fine momentarily.
Wednesday, afternoon recess, I come to, once again, gather my students to go inside for their next lesson. Once again two girls come running up to me. "Ms. Jameson, Student A scratched Student H!" My lips pursed and I could feel the heat of frustration build inside of me. After all, we had just discussed the same situation hours prior. Student H's arm had the same mark as Student C's. I took her aside, took a deep breath and showed her the arms of the two students. "What is going on with you? Do you see this? You have physically hurt two of my students. Why would you do this?" Answer: big I-got-caught-so-I'm-going-to-look-sad eyes and a shrug.
Something was off, she had been mean before, but nothing like this. We made our way to Principal's office. I explained both situations and he rewarded her with a very suitable punishment.
Thursday, 8:00am, all of my ducklings and I travel in a line to Music. Once we stopped in front of the music room and lined-up, Student K comes running up to me with tears streaming down his face and his right wrist craddled in his left arm. "Miss Jameson!" I must admit, some of his pleas have fallen on deaf ears. Not because I don't care, but because he is an avid tattle tale. This time was different, he looked in pain and truly scared. "Miss Jameson, Student A twisted my wrist really hard!" I gave her a piercing stare, called her over and brought them into the classroom.
Me: "Why is he crying?"
Student A: *shrug* "I don't know"
Student K: "Yes you do, you twisted my arm really hard for no reason!"
Me: "Why do you keep hurting my students?"
Student A: *shrug* "I don't know"
Me: "That's not good enough, I want a reason."
Student A: *shrug*
All three of us made our way to Principal's office once again. Student K gave his side and I had him return to Music. We closed the door and the intervention began. One thing that I've come to respect Principal for is that he can be calm and stern at the same time. He talked with Student A about what she had been doing and why she had been doing it. He also asked me if there was something else she had a problem with. I told him that she had told me the day before that she was afraid of something at home. Not someone, but something. She explained that she would see curtains shake but there would be nothing behind them and her cousin would just all of the sudden start shaking for no reason. She also told us about how her cousins would tell her terrible things to scare her. As her explaination continued she cried, hard and her breaths became shorter. With each word her sobs would become more and more extreme, causing her to have to gasp for air multiple times, it was scary. I have never seen someone cry like that before and hope to never see it again.
All I could think about was Satan and his demons working in her house and her family. He's alive and will do all he can to be a terror. Principal and I said the best way to make this stop is to ask God to help her and save her. He is the great protector. We told her how much we care about her and love her and that we would be praying for her. She took a deep breath and walked out of the office. Principal and I sat for a second.
Principal: "There is a lot of that on the Island you know."
Me: "Spiritual warfare?"
Principal: "Yeah, it's real and it's everywhere."
I've asked this before, but I'll ask it again, please pray for the island and its people...it needs it so much more than you could know.
I have a student (well technically I have 23) in my class. She is 20% servant hearted, 40% attitude, with another 40% full of drama. There are days where I just don't know what to do with her, but nothing could be comparable to that of this week.
Wednesday, morning recess, I come to gather my children to go inside for their next lesson. Two of my girls come running up to me. "Ms. Jameson, Student A scratched Student C!" I checked Student C's arm. Student A hadn't scratched Student C, no...she had pinched her so hard that the other student began to bleed. I will say this flat out, Student A lies, a lot. So I had to gather my witnesses and hear the full story. I had a talking to with Student A and things were fine momentarily.
Wednesday, afternoon recess, I come to, once again, gather my students to go inside for their next lesson. Once again two girls come running up to me. "Ms. Jameson, Student A scratched Student H!" My lips pursed and I could feel the heat of frustration build inside of me. After all, we had just discussed the same situation hours prior. Student H's arm had the same mark as Student C's. I took her aside, took a deep breath and showed her the arms of the two students. "What is going on with you? Do you see this? You have physically hurt two of my students. Why would you do this?" Answer: big I-got-caught-so-I'm-going-to-look-sad eyes and a shrug.
Something was off, she had been mean before, but nothing like this. We made our way to Principal's office. I explained both situations and he rewarded her with a very suitable punishment.
Thursday, 8:00am, all of my ducklings and I travel in a line to Music. Once we stopped in front of the music room and lined-up, Student K comes running up to me with tears streaming down his face and his right wrist craddled in his left arm. "Miss Jameson!" I must admit, some of his pleas have fallen on deaf ears. Not because I don't care, but because he is an avid tattle tale. This time was different, he looked in pain and truly scared. "Miss Jameson, Student A twisted my wrist really hard!" I gave her a piercing stare, called her over and brought them into the classroom.
Me: "Why is he crying?"
Student A: *shrug* "I don't know"
Student K: "Yes you do, you twisted my arm really hard for no reason!"
Me: "Why do you keep hurting my students?"
Student A: *shrug* "I don't know"
Me: "That's not good enough, I want a reason."
Student A: *shrug*
All three of us made our way to Principal's office once again. Student K gave his side and I had him return to Music. We closed the door and the intervention began. One thing that I've come to respect Principal for is that he can be calm and stern at the same time. He talked with Student A about what she had been doing and why she had been doing it. He also asked me if there was something else she had a problem with. I told him that she had told me the day before that she was afraid of something at home. Not someone, but something. She explained that she would see curtains shake but there would be nothing behind them and her cousin would just all of the sudden start shaking for no reason. She also told us about how her cousins would tell her terrible things to scare her. As her explaination continued she cried, hard and her breaths became shorter. With each word her sobs would become more and more extreme, causing her to have to gasp for air multiple times, it was scary. I have never seen someone cry like that before and hope to never see it again.
All I could think about was Satan and his demons working in her house and her family. He's alive and will do all he can to be a terror. Principal and I said the best way to make this stop is to ask God to help her and save her. He is the great protector. We told her how much we care about her and love her and that we would be praying for her. She took a deep breath and walked out of the office. Principal and I sat for a second.
Principal: "There is a lot of that on the Island you know."
Me: "Spiritual warfare?"
Principal: "Yeah, it's real and it's everywhere."
I've asked this before, but I'll ask it again, please pray for the island and its people...it needs it so much more than you could know.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Island Mist
It rained this evening. Actually, it's been raining almost every evening since I got here, but I can do anything but complain.
I love rain. I think I've grown to love it even more since I've been living here. Do I get tired of it? Yes, but who doesn't get tired of the same type of weather over and over again?
Island rain is different.
As I was sitting on my couch I heard a shower of water droplets begin to dance on the top of my apartment's tin roof. Outside I rushed. A much welcomed breeze kissed my clamy face as I felt the mist of the evening rain. Down it came, a wall of precipitation. I stood on my balcony and watched. Rain has always given me a feeling of comfort. I'm not sure why, but it always makes me happy. Harder it poured and I stretched out my arms. Water beaded up and cooled my skin as it entered every pore on my forearm. I took a deep breath and a familiar smell of freshness filled my senses.
Like home.
I love rain. I think I've grown to love it even more since I've been living here. Do I get tired of it? Yes, but who doesn't get tired of the same type of weather over and over again?
Island rain is different.
As I was sitting on my couch I heard a shower of water droplets begin to dance on the top of my apartment's tin roof. Outside I rushed. A much welcomed breeze kissed my clamy face as I felt the mist of the evening rain. Down it came, a wall of precipitation. I stood on my balcony and watched. Rain has always given me a feeling of comfort. I'm not sure why, but it always makes me happy. Harder it poured and I stretched out my arms. Water beaded up and cooled my skin as it entered every pore on my forearm. I took a deep breath and a familiar smell of freshness filled my senses.
Like home.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Musings from a Three Year Old
I live two doors down from a three year old and I can't help but wish that sometimes I could be more like her. Despite her constant energy and minimal cares, I think one of the things that I admire most about her is her inability to judge others.
"She never meets a stranger!" is what her mama and daddy always say and, after observing her interact with others, I couldn't help but agree. Of what I can tell she doesn't care who they are, where they're from, or what they've done...in her eyes everyone deserves to be loved. Physical appearance plays no part.
Her love for people creeped into my mind yesterday as I was reading the book You Are Special by Max Lucado to my students during their Bible lesson. It's about a small town filled with wooden people and they stick stars on the people they like and dots on the people they don't. One small wooden man was filled with dots and as more dots were stuck to his body, the sadder he became. As I was reading, mentally, this hit me hard. I've known people who have been teased and hurt so badly that they start to believe they are worthless and take drastic measures. Sticks and stones can break bones, but I think words and judgements cause the most damage.
Although we are all different, we come from the same creater. We are all made in His imagine. No one deserves to be "dotted" or judged unfairly because of something someone else said or the way he or she looks. After all, as Max Lucado points out in his book, the only thing in life that matters is what God thinks.
Now I leave you with this verse from Proverbs 31:30:
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a [person] who fears the LORD is to be praised.
"She never meets a stranger!" is what her mama and daddy always say and, after observing her interact with others, I couldn't help but agree. Of what I can tell she doesn't care who they are, where they're from, or what they've done...in her eyes everyone deserves to be loved. Physical appearance plays no part.
Her love for people creeped into my mind yesterday as I was reading the book You Are Special by Max Lucado to my students during their Bible lesson. It's about a small town filled with wooden people and they stick stars on the people they like and dots on the people they don't. One small wooden man was filled with dots and as more dots were stuck to his body, the sadder he became. As I was reading, mentally, this hit me hard. I've known people who have been teased and hurt so badly that they start to believe they are worthless and take drastic measures. Sticks and stones can break bones, but I think words and judgements cause the most damage.
Although we are all different, we come from the same creater. We are all made in His imagine. No one deserves to be "dotted" or judged unfairly because of something someone else said or the way he or she looks. After all, as Max Lucado points out in his book, the only thing in life that matters is what God thinks.
Now I leave you with this verse from Proverbs 31:30:
Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a [person] who fears the LORD is to be praised.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Forgery and Forgiveness on a Friday Afternoon
During these first few weeks of school I've found that I've been focusing a lot on discipline and keeping my students in line. Teaching them to not only respect me but each other has played a key part in my daily lessons. Yet after today I found that when it comes to students, sometimes being understanding can go miles farther than being stern.
Each day I have my kids turn in their homework folders and I go through each one, taking out papers and seeing who did or did not complete their assignments. I came across a folder of one of my students who had had a bad habit of forgetting to do parts of his assignments or not turning them in at all. As I sifted through his work I found a paper with a suspicious looking parent signature. I called him over to my desk and asked him about it. After a few lies he finally confessed that he had signed it. I met Principal outside and the three of us marched to his office.
I handed him the paper and I explained what had happend. Principal asked my student about it and he was truthful. Instead of yelling though, Principal spoke gently but directly. Although he made it clear that what he did was wrong, not once did he raise his voice. Composure was all about him. As Principal continued I saw tears begin to well in my student's eyes.
Now, I've gotten to a point where I'm immune to pouting and crocodile tears, but this was different. I could tell that the realization of what he did was wrong had hit him harder than I expected. It hurt me to watch him get in trouble and see him feel so bad. An experience I've never had before. He then turned to me (I still can't get the picture of his face out of my head), with tears streaming from his brown, almond shaped eyes he said in a shakey voice, "I'm sorry Ms. Jameson." I swallowed hard as I told him I forgave him.
As we left the office he gave me a hug and I walked him to P.E. Parents have told me that things are different when you have your own kids because you raise them and they're part of you. I think the same goes for when you have your own students. You love them and want whats best for them, eventhough they're not biologically yours. Although there are times where they deserve to be in trouble, it's always hard to see them hurting.
Thanks to that short, twenty minute office visit my heart is a little softer.
Each day I have my kids turn in their homework folders and I go through each one, taking out papers and seeing who did or did not complete their assignments. I came across a folder of one of my students who had had a bad habit of forgetting to do parts of his assignments or not turning them in at all. As I sifted through his work I found a paper with a suspicious looking parent signature. I called him over to my desk and asked him about it. After a few lies he finally confessed that he had signed it. I met Principal outside and the three of us marched to his office.
I handed him the paper and I explained what had happend. Principal asked my student about it and he was truthful. Instead of yelling though, Principal spoke gently but directly. Although he made it clear that what he did was wrong, not once did he raise his voice. Composure was all about him. As Principal continued I saw tears begin to well in my student's eyes.
Now, I've gotten to a point where I'm immune to pouting and crocodile tears, but this was different. I could tell that the realization of what he did was wrong had hit him harder than I expected. It hurt me to watch him get in trouble and see him feel so bad. An experience I've never had before. He then turned to me (I still can't get the picture of his face out of my head), with tears streaming from his brown, almond shaped eyes he said in a shakey voice, "I'm sorry Ms. Jameson." I swallowed hard as I told him I forgave him.
As we left the office he gave me a hug and I walked him to P.E. Parents have told me that things are different when you have your own kids because you raise them and they're part of you. I think the same goes for when you have your own students. You love them and want whats best for them, eventhough they're not biologically yours. Although there are times where they deserve to be in trouble, it's always hard to see them hurting.
Thanks to that short, twenty minute office visit my heart is a little softer.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
This One is For Mom and Dad
I've been working at SCS for almost a month now. Needless to say I've gotten to know my students better and better as each day and week slip by. With each student comes a story, a family, and a history. After learning more and more about my second graders, I can't help but thank my own parents.
So, Mom and Dad, this one is for you.
Thank You
Thank you for your discipline.
It has shaped me to be the responsible and conscious of right and wrong.
It also shows me that you really do care.
Thank you for your high standards and high expectations.
They have motivated me to give my full effort in everything and not just settle for my best, but better than my best.
They have also taught me to be driven and do all I can to succeed.
Thank you for having a stable, Christian marriage.
It has shown me that, with help from God, two people can stay together and love each other.
Thank you for teaching me to respect my elders, others, and myself.
Being a teacher, I wish more parents taught it to their kids.
Most importantly,
Thank you for your love and support.
You've always been there for advice and input.
You've been a shoulder to cry on and a pair to laugh with.
I love you guys.
So, Mom and Dad, this one is for you.
Thank You
Thank you for your discipline.
It has shaped me to be the responsible and conscious of right and wrong.
It also shows me that you really do care.
Thank you for your high standards and high expectations.
They have motivated me to give my full effort in everything and not just settle for my best, but better than my best.
They have also taught me to be driven and do all I can to succeed.
Thank you for having a stable, Christian marriage.
It has shown me that, with help from God, two people can stay together and love each other.
Thank you for teaching me to respect my elders, others, and myself.
Being a teacher, I wish more parents taught it to their kids.
Most importantly,
Thank you for your love and support.
You've always been there for advice and input.
You've been a shoulder to cry on and a pair to laugh with.
I love you guys.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Help!
Torquise tinted waves crash up along beaches with white-sand so soft it cushions your feet as you walk along its edges. In and out roll the tide underneath the green palms as their long leaves bend down to shade you from the island sun. Paradise? You might say that. Little would one know that what lies beneath the beautifully sugarcoated tourist exterior of Saipan is a reality that is deeper and darker than that of the omnipresent ocean.
There's really no other way to say this but that Saipan is in need of doctors, desperate need of doctors. According to an article in the Saipan Tribune, we can expect to have a total of only twelve physicians on island by the end of the year. You may be asking yourself, what's with the sudden decrease in medical staffing? It's simple, they're not getting paid. Due to problems with debt and poor billing strategies (as well as deeper government issues that I feel too uneducated about to discuss) our physicians have endured, as they call it, multiple "payless paydays." Therefore causing many to leave island. Pastor JW and his wife, AW, are expecting a child in about 2 months, unfortunately due to the lack of health professionals (and some wise words from the only OBGYN left on the island, yes, I said ONLY) their remaining option is to fly to Guam. It's hard to help anyone when there aren't proper tools or medical staff. You might also be wondering where our Mayor is during all of this. Don't worry...he's in Florida (heavy sarcasm).
Now this may be a shot in the dark, but I know that even dark places have light. As a bunch of us were getting ready for a game night at the W's, Pastor JW mentioned that probably the only way to get doctors on this island would be via missionary physicians. That of course being because they raise their own salaries. I don't know how many people this blog reaches, but I'm hoping it's more than I think. If you are a missionary with a medical background, or know of one, I humbly ask that you please prayerfully consider Saipan's situation. I know that there are hundreds of thousands of people in Africa, Asia, South America, etc...who need medical attention as much as we do, if not more. But the scary part of all of this is that if all of our doctors leave, what's going to happen to the island? I don't even know how many people know where or what Saipan is.
Please pray for the island, it needs it more than you know. Not only for this, but multiple other hidden reasons as well.
There's really no other way to say this but that Saipan is in need of doctors, desperate need of doctors. According to an article in the Saipan Tribune, we can expect to have a total of only twelve physicians on island by the end of the year. You may be asking yourself, what's with the sudden decrease in medical staffing? It's simple, they're not getting paid. Due to problems with debt and poor billing strategies (as well as deeper government issues that I feel too uneducated about to discuss) our physicians have endured, as they call it, multiple "payless paydays." Therefore causing many to leave island. Pastor JW and his wife, AW, are expecting a child in about 2 months, unfortunately due to the lack of health professionals (and some wise words from the only OBGYN left on the island, yes, I said ONLY) their remaining option is to fly to Guam. It's hard to help anyone when there aren't proper tools or medical staff. You might also be wondering where our Mayor is during all of this. Don't worry...he's in Florida (heavy sarcasm).
Now this may be a shot in the dark, but I know that even dark places have light. As a bunch of us were getting ready for a game night at the W's, Pastor JW mentioned that probably the only way to get doctors on this island would be via missionary physicians. That of course being because they raise their own salaries. I don't know how many people this blog reaches, but I'm hoping it's more than I think. If you are a missionary with a medical background, or know of one, I humbly ask that you please prayerfully consider Saipan's situation. I know that there are hundreds of thousands of people in Africa, Asia, South America, etc...who need medical attention as much as we do, if not more. But the scary part of all of this is that if all of our doctors leave, what's going to happen to the island? I don't even know how many people know where or what Saipan is.
Please pray for the island, it needs it more than you know. Not only for this, but multiple other hidden reasons as well.
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