Swan Song


I was sitting standing in church last Sunday listening to the final part of a five part series about marriage. The pastor made strong notes to those in the congregation that were divorced; explaining that there isn’t guilt to feel, but instead hope. He noted that several people wear this guilt for years from a failed marriage, forgetting that God is good, forgiving, and loving.

We do forget.

A few weeks ago I left the same church quiet with my wife. After prodding for answers; I explained that I wasn’t comfortable because marriage conversations frequently bring up divorce. I feel guilt. I feel regret. I feel anger.

Explaining this to my wife resulted in the following from her:

I love you. It has been several years now. You have to start letting this stuff go and move on with your life. No one else thinks of you as the ‘divorced Christian’, many of our friends don’t even know your past to begin with. Stop dwelling on once was, and move forward with me.

In the immediate I wanted to argue with her, but after some time of thinking, the reality is understanding and accepting that she is right. We must move on. Mistakes, errors, problems arise and happen. They are messy, they are regretful, and they frequently cause a pain that is hard to forget. I won’t forget the night the bed disappear. The day my parents saw my living conditions. The text message that read it was over. The pastor who condemned my existence, sided with the option of divorce, and said these things happen. Memories don’t fade, but they can be placed where they belong; in the past.

FilingThePapers has been my source of humor, praises, and explanation of pain in times of crisis. It also has evolved with the passing of time; it has ushered out the memories of what was lost, and gave thanks with the excitement that has come into my life. A home, a community, a new sister in the faith…eventually resulting in my beautiful wife (4 years this year).

If nothing else, I want my life to be a living testimony of God’s grace. There is nothing that I currently have that I deserve. Nothing about this life should be mine. God’s grace is everlasting, never failing, and always full of surprises.

With all of that said; this is my swan song. FilingThePapers has come to a point where it is time to end the chapter. This is the final post, the final farewell, and I do so with excitement. Will I keep writing? Yes! Somewhere else for sure. Will I take down this site? Nope. There is fun nuggets of strange reality sitting in these pages. Maybe someday I really will turn some of it into a book.

With this conclusion; there isn’t enough time or space to give appropriate thanks to so many who have humored this endeavor of the course of five years, but a few have to be said:

  • My parents for their protection, guidance, and wisdom throughout the years
  • For the runners who humor my daily problems, trying to find my footing
  • The cats for knowing when to be sweet…and still choosing to be evil
  • To friends who have come and gone, read stories, asked questions, and still made fun of me
  • My unapologetic, beautiful bride who reminds me every day (painfully) that she loves me as far as the east is to the west
  • To you, the reader, for wasting time in your own life to peek into my own

I suppose this is the conclusion. So…bye?

-D-

Mutual Heartache


Reality is frequently unfortunate, and rarely kind to the heart. The atmosphere today was set at the point of waking up, something was off with the world I live in.

10 mile run in the woods was difficult, painful, and cold. Yet another forewarn of impending devastation.

While enjoying a cup of coffee my wife called me. We both know that if we’re calling each other instead of sending a text, something is usually off…

Hey, what’s up?

We knew it would happen someday, and it finally did.

Oh my gosh. Where are you? I’m on my way to pick you up now.

I hung up the phone and stepped back into the shop.

I’m sorry. That was Darco, I need to go. 

Is everything alright?

Her mother just died.

I never knew that you could love someone so much that their own heartbreak you could feel yourself. I feel so overprotective at the moment. She’s sleeping in our bedroom, and I won’t even leave the room.

I’m blessed to have this marriage. I’m blessed to be able to hurt with my wife in this saddening time.

-D-

Mobile Minutes: Spinning


In case you’re interested in the week of a teacher…

This Week:

  1. Teaching

Plus…

  1. Administration Observation
  2. Host Cohort Meeting
  3. Grade Level Meeting
  4. New Teacher Cohort Meeting
  5. Internal Host Observation
  6. Athletics Interview
  7. Unannounced Administration Observation

All sorts of weird stuff, but all of this activity makes me grateful to be busy in a blossoming school.

-D-

Mobile Minutes: Teaching Teachers


Cool moment today: First day back in school from Christmas Break, and staff had to stay late for professional development.

Why is that cool?

Because after being in the building for the past couple years, I was asked if I’d like to work with another teacher and teach a professional development class on Twitter.

Instructors teacher instructors. Not to mention is was about using Twitter in the classroom. It was really neat, and it made my heart happy that I got to contribute to the world of education in a way that wasn’t directed tied to my students.

-D-

#getyourpraiseon


First snow day as a teacher. It was announced a few hours ago. Trust me, I love my kids. However, I’m blessed to be given one more day of recovery from the fall before going back to school. Mentally I need it.

Additionally, my parents amaze me. They braved the weather, came to our house, shoveled our drive, thawed out the cars, and cooked meals for us. Jim fell on the ice while shoveling, I nearly cried, just because seeing family doing work for my sake was humbling at the least.

I don’t deserve a life like this. I am blessed beyond reason.

-D-

Mobile Minutes: Small Victories


Truth: Teaching terrifies me. 

That is one thing that hasn’t changed through all the time of these past couple years. Failure, mistakes, errors, missteps, etc…all the things I encourage my students to experience daily, is professionally what I fear the most. Ironic, yes?
These past few weeks have been laced with errors. One thing after another, I racked up an impressive list of miscues in the world of academia.

This is why I’m grateful for small victories. These last ten weeks I’ve experimented with developing a debate program at our middle school. I firmly believe competition exists outside of courts, gyms, and fields. By God’s grace I wound up with 23 sixth to eighth grade students on a roster for this past quarter. It has been an amazing experience. The students, personally, grew faster in content and comprehension then I had originally predicted. 

I took some of the data from these past weeks and sent it to our high school debate coach to analyze and review.

They were impressed. These middle school students impressed the high school coach! The coach offered to share their teams source material for construction of debates, asking how their students could interact with mine in the spring semester, and just overall gave a tone of excitement.

After a recent rough streak; this was such a blessing to receive. 

-D-

Seasonal Perception


I don’t think I have been alone in my own home for the evening for at least three years. Darco left this evening to spend some time with her friend back home, and that has left me with an empty house, a battle with weevils, and two cats attempting to track down every insect inside their living arrangement.

Translation: All is right with the world (minus no wife this evening).

It is interesting what we perceive as ‘hard’ throughout our lives. At one point running a mile was hard, eventually three miles was hard, then came ten miles, and someday it may be a hundred. So much of ‘hard’ is perceived by the individual in measurement to their own life and past examples.

This past week was hard.

The past several months, if not year has been very low-key for our family. My wife continues to soar at her job, I thoroughly enjoy teaching, and we are finding more and more friends at a daily basis. That is why, based off historic context, this week was hard. My wife and I didn’t see each other awake until yesterday evening, parent-teacher conferences were this week, I had a performance evaluation at work, and other things transpiring within the world of education placed me in a rather unfamiliar position; uncomfortable.

Thursday night, I wound up with something to ‘fidget with’ at work because I was having a hard time paying attention. That isn’t to say what was going on wasn’t important, it was just that my mind was elsewhere. I was trying to solve problems, fix issues, and create solutions in my head for fifteen different problems. Unfortunately, along those terms is also the realization that I likely will not solve any of those problems. I argue that ‘status quo’ is unrealistic and unobtainable; life cannot stay in one specific state through time. There is always something to adjust, tweak, fix, develop, create, or destroy.

The only reason for any of this writing is to merely say that I had a personally challenging week. In no way does that mean that I have endured anything difficult, or overcame anything deemed impossible. Merely noting that in the perception of my own eye versus recent history; this was not the best of weeks and I am glad that like seasonal storms, it too has passed.

-D-

Heart


I received a hand written letter tonight after a hot, muddy run through the woods. It was an awesome, encouraging thank you letter from the previous weekend.

I did well reading the encouragement, all the way until the final sentence. Only then did my emotional state become unstable. In the cursive font I read the following:

You’ve got the heart of an ultrarunner the same way you have a heart of a good Christian.

It has been at least six years since anyone has ever said good and Christian when identifying me. This didn’t come from a preacher, choir leader, Sunday School teacher, missionary, theological professor, elder, or deacon. It came from no one within the Church. It came from a person that I want to match step-for-step with in the mud one day.

I was called a good Christian.

I was called a good Christian.

I whisper this to myself with a half smile; facial muscles fighting off sobbing or quivering lips. This is something I never deserved to read:

I was called a good Christian.

The jealous, lustful, divorced, cheating, spiteful, hateful, flawed, ugly soul that roams this earth…was called a good Christian.

I was given a compliment that I had assumed I would never hear again in my lifetime.

Even through the stress of today I’m going to bed with a happy heart. I witnessed God’s grace tonight, and my soul smiles because of it.

Cool handwriting!

-D-