Portland Head at Sunrise

I found this picture on line and thought it was astonishing. I love the breaking dawn - the way the darkness is giving way before the light.

It's coming, friends...

hgjlk

Climax Reached!

NOTE: Those who have not read Jane Eyre should NOT read this post!!! Instead you should go directly to the library, check the book out, read it cover to cover, and then return and read this post.

I have been holding my breath since September 12 or so (which is a very long time to be holding one's breath - that's got to be some kind of record), when I started reading Jane Eyre with my class. I was paranoid lest someone spoil the surprise for my students!

I distinctly remember the how surprised and horrified I was the first time I read that book: the feeling as if all the wind had been knocked right out of me, the total shock and dismay, the sense of going through that darkness with Jane, thinking nothing can possibly work out right now.

And I really wanted my students to be able to remember a similar feeling! With the accompanying feelings that come at the end of the book, of course. But my wishes for my kids were in constant peril, as chronicled below:

September 14: Headmaster walks through the classroom, sees the book the kids are reading, and asks "Oh! Have you reached the part with the locked up woman yet?"

September 30: I realize that the high school students have read this book several years ago, and that they love to give away endings to each other...

October 15: Headmaster's son (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Marilla!) asks one of my students if the ex-wife has showed up yet. (Fortunately I'm able to later assure said student that headmaster's son had it all wrong - thank goodness for monosyllabic prefixes!)

October 23: Fellow-teacher says, "Oh the person who laughs wasn't Grace Poole!" (And then, much to his credit, he realizes the students haven't read that far yet and adds:) "It was the butler!"

October 24: I mention to my high school students that we're about to get to the climax in my Jane Eyre class. They cannot stop joking about giving the story away. I impress, very deeply, the fact that I do not wish them to do this. I think they understand. But I can't be totally sure.

October 25: I read aloud the chapter about the wedding at last! The students are shocked, and questions fly so think and fast that I can't even finish the chapter. Incredulity and understanding hit all at once. SUCCESS!!!!!!

I begin to breath again.

October 26: The students are still incredulous, and keep giving Jane not-quite-morally-sound advice about what she should do (here's a new one - "They should just put Bertha out of her misery! And then they should get married!" A short but interesting - and slightly disturbing - discussion about euthanasia follows). We get to the end of the period and the wails of anguish when I say we have to stop are enough to persuade me to get permission to read more to them during their lunch period! Five of seven (the five girls, surprisingly enough) opted to stay.

What a fabulous success! I can't wait to finish the book now...

This Just In...

Salad is more palatable if eaten with one's hands!

Perhaps part of my deep loathing of salad springs from my inability to get the stuff onto my fork.

Sadly, conventions of acceptable societal behavior may put a damper on my latest discovery.

The Two Happiest Teaching Moments of my Life

The first of the happiest moments of my teaching life came last year, sometime around the first day of school, right after my first class, when I realized, "I LOVE this! I was MADE for this!"

The second of the two happiest moments of my teaching life came today. I was talking with the headmaster, whose son is in my senior class. They had just gone down to PA for a college visit. The headmaster said, "Andrea, have you heard what my son's been telling people? You're not going to believe this. This is going to floor you. We got down there to PA, and the people asked what he was thinking about going into. And he said Literature."

!!!

Let me try to tell you what this meant to me. I was awake in the night, two and a half years ago, wondering what in the world I was going to do with my life. I realized that teaching was all I could see myself doing career-wise. I had discovered how much I loved literature that semester. And I couldn't imagine anything better than being able to stay immersed in it all my life, and passing on that love to other people. That was what I wanted to do with a teaching career: inspire others to want to find the beauty I had found - show people the possibilities and the richness there.

When my headmaster told me that news, my cup was full! THAT is why I had become a teacher. And I realized in that moment, very concretely, that that vision I'd had was being realized. What an amazing moment!

The Jane Eyre Mystery

I'm teaching Jane Eyre to my 7th and 8th graders, and I'm having a ball with it! The following tale is based on a real class... We just read the chapter in which someone sets fire to Mr. Rochester's bed. We got to the end of the chapter, where Mr. Rochester tenderly thanks Jane with her hand in both of his, and then I started asking the questions. "What is up with this Grace Poole character?!"

You should have HEARD the hypotheses that flew about thick and fast. We started with the more expected:

"Maybe she's crazy!"

"Maybe she's evil!"

"Maybe she knows something about Mr. Rochester, and if he fires her she'll tell everyone, so he can't get rid of her."

I write blackmail on the board.

And THEN...

"I know! She didn't really do it - the other servant, Leah, paid her to go by Jane's room and laugh and then leave, and then Leah did it!" (Motive? Um, no.)

"It was probably MRS. FAIRFAX (the very docile, ordinary old housekeeper), because she was distantly related and maybe she would inherit Thornfield!"

"Maybe Mrs. Pool has someone locked up in the attic!" (Miss Murray laughs in what she hopes will be perceived as a how-cute-of-you-to-be-so-far-wrong way, and not a nervous how-in-the-world-did-you-hit-upon-that way.)

"Or MAYBE Mrs. Pool is really Celine, the French dancer, Adele's mom, that Mr. Rochester used to love. And she's pretending to be crazy and she's so good at it Mr. R doesn't even know it is she!" (Actually, none of my kids would say "it is she." sigh.)

"It was probably Pilot (the dog)."

"It was the wife of the guy Mr. Rochester shot in the arm long ago, and she's come back to get revenge!"

"No, guys, it's always the person you don't suspect. It was probably Mr. Rochester himself!"

And then came the crowning moment of the class:

"I know. Guys, I know. Mr. Rochester just did it so he could have an excuse to hold Jane's hand." (Gales of laughter. Order never restored. Teacher laughing too hard to try. Class over.)

The Really Real

This week I've run into a few negative interpretations of religion.

In a tv show two people were discussing prayer. One said we thank God for things not because it does anything for Him (the speaker didn't even believe there was a God), but because it was good for us to express that feeling of thankfulness. Hm. The other said we thank God for things because we don't want to be squished like bugs. Nice.

Then, in bloggerdom, I saw a comment about religion being something man has created because of his own ego - he wants to think his ego can connect on with something that will last forever. Cheery.

And I just want to scream "PEOPLE! You're MISSING SO MUCH!!!"

All week long, since last weekend's awesome experience with the Holy Spirit, I've been thinking about how wonderful it is to dwell on the things that really matter - the things that are really REAL. It is so good to focus on the things that are high and lasting and right, instead of being absorbed with the trivial and temporary.

And I was thinking about other people who don't even know of this whole realm - the realm that is so much more real and lasting than what they see around them. My prayers for the removal of the covering (aided in inspiration by Craig's comments about being a prayer warrior even in the little prayers) have taken on new life. How dreadful to go through life without experiencing reality! It's as if a bunch of people are walking around with only half of their lungs, so that they can never breath deeply. It's like unsaved humanity can only see in black and white, or have no taste buds, or something... only so much more so. There is SO much MORE!

I breath in, deeply, the air of reality. I rejoice that God has allowed me to see Him and His truth - and I pray it out to the rest of humanity. I want them to break through the thin veneer on which they live their lives, and fall into the rich depths of what life is really about: the REALLY real!

God is huge - He is everything good - He is the meaning - He is the purpose - He is the most real reality. He has set up the world to be enjoyed in this context: that He is GOD! So let's live our lives in that context - experiencing all the good He has given us in this life - and looking forward to the time when what is really real is all we see, and the trivial, superficial, and transient are gone forever. And let's believe for others to get the reality too!

Praise the Lord for TRUTH!

Sept 30, 2006

By now you’ve probably read, on Craig’s or Derrick’s blog, about last Saturday night’s outpouring of the Holy Spirit. Here I am at last, with teacher training tomorrow and thus no lesson plans tonight (!), to weigh in on the matter.

It seemed to me a time of great import. It was a unified surrender of self to all that God has for us. It was a joint outpouring of our desire for God, for vision, for His highest. It was a time unlike any I’ve experienced before, in terms of being with a group of peers seeking God in that way. I found myself real and open, uninhibited, as I talked to God, despite the fact that so many others were listening. That was the Holy Spirit.

And I believe God heard us and is answering. Actually, I think we were the ones who were answering His call. But when we called to Him in response, He answered us and worked and is continuing to work, continuing to call us higher.

And I want to go. What else is there? What else would we possibly want to waste our time with except the highest and best – that for which we were created.

And I’m anticipating great things. God doesn’t work at random – everything He does is moving us toward that final goal of history. What happened that night happened for a reason. God prepared us for that, and what happened was preparation for something else… I keep thinking about the impact a group of people totally committed to God and to His will could have. Who knows what God has planned?! It is as if He is building a force for something. And I’m in.

I don’t know what it is, exactly. All I know is that I want to be totally His – totally surrendered – totally taken up with Him. And He'll do the rest.

Of course, emotions don’t last and the high fades. But the truth of the matter continues on – the vision is still there – the desire to deal only with what’s real remains. Whatever I do, I want to be close to Him, and furthering His Kingdom.

And that’s where it starts. As we give ourselves to Him, He can use us. So, readers, I encourage you to think about what really matters, and give yourselves again to His cause. It doesn’t have to be an emotional thing, even – just a conscious assent to His will is incredibly powerful. I am praying for new life all over the Kingdom – for an entire church with the passion to be His and only His, to see Him and only Him, to pursue Him and Him alone.

I believe this is possible, and that, if and when it happens, the power of such a movement will be immeasurable. So let’s turn to God and see what He will do! This is what really matters.

Across the Sea

I am sailing, I am sailing,
Home again 'cross the sea.
I am sailing, stormy waters,
To be near you, to be free.

-Gavin Sutherland










And, doubtless, unto thee is given
A life that bears immortal fruit
In those great offices that suit
The full-grown energies of heaven...

But thou and I have shaken hands,
Till growing winters lay me low;
My paths are in the fields I know,
And thine in undisover'd lands.

Tennyson, In Memoriam, XL