I may not be smarter than a fifth grader.

I've been asking myself that question a lot lately as I've been growing into my role as a catechist, handing on our precious Faith to young and impressionable fifth grade minds. For those of you who don't know, one of the ways I decided to get involved with my community upon the move to Cedar Falls is to teach religious education (referred to as RE from here on out) and the class that the Holy Spirit chose is a lively and usually disinterested fifth grade class. I mean it when I say, truly blessed am I!

Believe it or not, this 12-person class has stretched and challenged me in ways that I had never experienced after 3 years as a missionary with college students. In fact, at first I absolutely detested this role. Every week I dreaded coming to class, not knowing what to expect or even if any of the students cared. And then class would happen. And it would completely tank. And I would leave. And never. want. to. come. back. This happened for a solid month or more until I finally (yes finally!) realized that in no way is it appropriate to quit just because it's tough. Looking back I laugh at myself because these are often lessons children learn. Yet here I am... But shoot, if I become a mother someday, I can't just give my children back and say, "I'm not ready yet!" Which, ultimately, was my biggest challenge in regards to teaching this class.

Not including a short stint of teaching RE while in high school, I really have little to no experience teaching, let alone trying to teach and relate to such young students. Shoot, I've been blessed to work and go spiritually deep with 20-something college students who desire a challenge, and desire to have God in their lives. The transition to 10- and 11-year-olds who are in my class only because their parents tell them to go has been, let's just say, a challenge.

It's funny how things change over time, and also how some things stay the same. For example, I no longer want to quit teaching RE (praise God), but I still get pretty stressed trying to put together a lesson plan/activity for the hour I have to spend with them on Wednesday nights. I realized a couple reasons why I get stressed out about this:

1. I love the Catholic Faith. So much so that I want everyone to know it (hence, missionary).
2. I am a recovering perfectionist (i.e. I loathe making mistakes.)
3. I have no formal teaching as to being a teacher whatsoever.
4. I only have one hour with these students each week.

When I get anxious trying to plan for these munchkins I do 3 things: 

1. Take a deep breath.
2. Ask for the Holy Spirit's help.
3. Remember that I have no idea what I'm doing. And that's okay.

It makes so much sense when I sit back and think about it--which, admittedly, I've been doing a lot of! No wonder I get stressed out about teaching RE. It comes down to the basic fact that I really want the students to learn the Faith but have not a clue how to teach. Such an interesting dichotomy if you ask me (which you didn't). 

I wish I could use this post and tell you story after story from the year thus far, but there are far too many good ones. An overarching theme is this: Kelsey has great (or what she thinks is great) idea, activity, or craft. Kids take it to a whole different level or get bored, and end up making Kelsey laugh, unintentionally. Every. single. time. I'm laughing just thinking about some of them.

One example is class from a few weeks ago. I thought it would be great to give the kids a tour of the chapel and explain a few important things to them. Some of these include: why we genuflect, what the tabernacle is, and most importantly that Jesus is always present in the Eucharist. We end up having a little discussion near the end about the Eucharist and confession (presuming that fifth graders have already received these two sacraments, which in this diocese, they have). At the very end of the class one of the Hispanic boys raises his hand and tells me that he hasn't received his first reconciliation, and then the other six Hispanic children raise their hands and say they haven't either. Or their First Holy Communion. I laugh out loud this time, because I have been teaching the class this entire year with the presumption that they definitely know what the Eucharist is and I'm just helping drive the point home. It all makes sense that in our class on the Eucharist over half the class had no idea what I was talking about.

I respond, "Well you know what, Christopher? You guys are going to be extra prepared when you do!" I receive blank, disinterested stares in return, and dismiss the class a few minutes early. That is just one example.

Well last night ended up being the best class yet, and that's the real reason for this post in the first place.

I love Advent, and of course Christmas. But of liturgical seasons, Advent steals my heart every year. There is just something about the quiet stillness and anticipation that get me. I also have a fondness of Christmas lights and the way they light up the night, which by this time of year always begins much sooner than I'd like. I mean seriously, sunset at 4:36 pm tonight? I digress.

So when it comes to teaching RE during Advent, it just doesn't feel right not to talk about this wonderful season. There are just so many things to tell and show and do to prepare our hearts for Jesus, that of course I am going to keep my three classes during the season Advent-related.

So after an imprudence in not preparing well ahead of time for class this week, it came down to my short amount of time after work to try to throw something together and hopefully the Holy Spirit would show up and do the rest.

I am excited to report that that is exactly what happened! As under-prepared as I was for this class, the Holy Spirit took care of everything. It was amazing, and reminded me that He is still with me and working through me, even if the audience is comprised of 10- and 11-year-olds who have no choice but to come to class (versus a bible study of college students who don't have anybody forcing them to do anything. It's amazing the difference!). Truly, I have not felt more "myself" than I did last night with these kiddos.

Right before class (and I really mean 6:13 when class starts at 6:15) the Holy Spirit led me to Isaiah chapter 9, verses 1-7. We ended up reading through it, I talked a little, told them about the passage, and a few students even asked questions. Any teachers will relate when I say that it's the best feeling when a young student asks a clarifying question. It tells me that not only are they trying to follow along, but that they actually care to know more information! Gosh it just affirms me so much.

I had scrambled and bought a copy of O Come O Come Emmanuel (my favorite Advent song) by Matt Maher right before class and put it on my iPod so we could listen to it together, and talk about the song. I, however, made a bit of a mistake and didn't actually preview the entire song before choosing it. I just figured, "Hey, standard version of classic song. Great." So I had printed out lyrics to the classic song of O Come O Come Emmanuel, and when we started listening to it and got halfway through I realized that this actually might be a more "modern" version of the song...and the lyrics might be different.

And I was right. God bless Matt for his rendition, however. After listening to it a few times I am a big fan. But the class was looking around like, "hey, where are these words?" And since it was my first time listening to the whole thing (big oops right here), we were able to talk about how the different lyrics are still just as important as the originals, and how they fit perfectly with what we had read in Isaiah 9! Unintentional and AWESOME. And then we talked about how Jesus helps us when we are in trouble, and how He is the light of the world. Truly, it was a divinely inspired class and even though they may likely forget everything, they learned the word Emmanuel and who Emmanuel is! What a blessing to help shape little minds. A challenge, but also rewarding.

Afterwards the kids all left in a jolly mood and I am looking forward to our little Christmas party next week! If you have any fun ideas, activities or snacks please share them with me! I want this to be fun for all!

May you have a blessed Advent!

Prayers answered...from Craigslist?

The other night I was having a conversation with a dear friend and we both kind of realized, "wow, God always takes really good care of me." Like, really. I began to think back on instances when I have really felt God's presence, and even times that I haven't, and I can tell that he's been there, providing everything that I need. Or sometimes, and this is my favorite, He will lavish me with choice gifts I never even asked for. Let me explain...

Ever since moving to Iowa my heart has yearned for peace, and seemed to have found none. I specifically included it in my prayer intentions--that I might experience God's peace in my decision to move here, with my job, with my vocation, etc. I'll be honest: at first, it was a rocky start. Moving to a new town where all the people you know can be counted on one hand (and conveniently it's because it's your boyfriend and a few of his friends), was not easy for the sanguine in me. I'd see cute coffee shops, restaurants, and boutiques and my initial thought was, "Oh, this would be a great place to take one of my girlfriends....wait. Or, Lee?" Of course it's not that I don't want to do all of these things with the man that I love, but there are just some things that girls get more excited about: namely, colorful and cute coffee shops downtown with organic coffee and homemade pastries. (If you're a girl and you live in Fargo I am willing to wager that if you've been to Nichole's just once, you love it.)

I had some time in town before leaving for a mission trip in July, so I used that time mainly to get settled, finish preparing for Mexico City, and of course look for jobs. I applied for many and was contacted by few. Even after doctoring up the ol' résumé with everything that I learned from my experience with FOCUS and beyond, apparently it's a little more difficult than I thought to find a job with the following titles to my name: "Catholic missionary and B.A. in International Studies." If I would've known that back in my days at the UW, I definitely would have studied a little more and gotten more specific with a degree path. Regardless, I do believe that everything happens for a reason, and in all reality I had no idea what I wanted to do when I was 20 years old... and 5 years later I still don't! Life decisions are tough, especially when your main goal is heaven, you'll do whatever it takes to get there (or at least I'd like to think so most days).

Our Mexico City mission trip group. I love them!

To fit with the theme of this post, God provided and the day I left town to go to WI before my mission trip, I was offered a position at a recently-opened Culver's restaurant nearby. For those of you who don't know me, I love Culver's and am extremely loyal to it, particularly the franchise in Sauk City, WI (the one that started it all for those of you unawares). In fact, I like Culver's so much that a friend of mine planned a surprise birthday party for me last year and wanted to take a group of us to yes you guessed it: Culver's (unfortunately my birthday is in January and there was a blizzard so our plans changed. Who knew, a blizzard in Fargo in January...).

You can probably imagine my excitement at being issued the "True Blue" hat, manager's tie, shirt and name tag on my first day. I started working and it was fun to talk to people, learn a new job, and of course, eat at Culver's almost every day (especially when there was pulled pork or chicken salad sandwiches, yum!). It certainly zoomed me right back to my days in the grocery store, which I remember very fondly. 

My first time wearing the True Blue uniform.

Excitement waned within a week when my pride really started kicking in and I began to see status updates of many fellow UW-grads who are out doing "big and exciting things" with their lives: graduating from PA school, starting their 4th year as a med student, moving to new countries, teaching, getting married and the list goes on. In a moment of weakness, I began to feel sorry for myself, "Oh Kelsey, you don't even know what you want to do with your life. You didn't even need a college degree for what you're doing now (although after working as a manager, I can definitely see where it was helpful!). Look at your peers and all of the amazing things they're doing with their lives, and here you're working in fast food." That was when I stopped liking my job. (Note to self: don't compare your life to others' lives through the social media lens, or at all. You'll likely end up highly dissatisfied, regardless of what you do.)

I began working at Culver's under the pretense that, "I'll do this until something better comes along." And that was when I realized that I don't actually know what I would think is "better." More money? Regular hours? A different working environment? (Being a FOCUS missionary?) It wasn't long that I figured out that as far as a career goes, I just don't know what I want. After all, I didn't move to Iowa for a career, I moved here for a relationship.

So I stopped looking. I stopped reading the daily emails of "New jobs in the area" and decided that I was happy enough, and who needs a new job anyway? At least I'm starting to learn the ropes, gain confidence, and get to know customers to the point of seeing a ticket for an order in the drive-thru and knowing exactly who it's for (hoping she brought her bichon!) without even taking the order.

And then a miracle happened--I started liking working at Culver's. I formed relationships with the other employees (inside jokes and all), found moments of sanctification in my work  and I began to feel like maybe, just maybe, I am making a difference. The 3-11pm shifts stopped being such a burden and I accepted my fate of working there for the time being. I also decided that I would start advertising a little more heavily for a roommate (because I also accepted the fact that if I don't split the rent my resources will soon diminish).

Not long after that God really surprised me with how much He cares for me. Lee and I went for a run one night and decided to go a new route, opposite of the direction we normally go. On the way, we passed the wife of who we'll call "Steve," a friend of Lee's we haven't seen since I've been in town, and later that night her husband texted Lee inviting us to a bonfire at their place. We ended up going, did a little "shooting the breeze" and I described my job at Culver's to them. Two days later, Lee forwarded me an email from Steve letting him know about a friend of his who works at a small engineering company and recently lost his receptionist (not tragically, she just quit). He told Lee that I should give the guy a call if I'm interested, so that is exactly what I did. I went in for an interview a few days later and was offered the job on the spot, and get this: there are regular hours, better pay, and a different working environment. 

But now that things were going well at Culver's, I felt a twinge of obligation and even sadness (yes, sadness!) at the thought of leaving. In all honesty, I am loyal to a fault and my commitment to the Culver's Restaurant chain runs much deeper than the month and a half experience of working there. I thought about staying part time and picking up shifts every once in a while on the weekends, but when I told my manager he said I should take some time to get settled at my new job and email him in a couple of weeks. So that is exactly what I did. And his response blew me away. I want to share part of it with you:

The very reason you stated of commitment is what i was hoping you would figure out. I did not want you to feel obligated as i could sense. Commitment and obligation have two different meanings. With commitment you have choices and create your own path.  With obligation we allow others in a sense to create or control our path. You are a special person that will touch many lives on your journey of life.

It was such a relief to me to know that I truly made the best decision for myself, and in doing so, for the other people in my life (i.e. coworkers, Lee). It's amazing how much freedom one can experience by making a decision like this for yourself, and not to please someone else.

Of course my prayers for peace continued, as I am starting something new (again) and transition, well, sometimes I just plain don't get along with it. I was starting to get good at my job, earn my employees' trust, and now I'm starting a new job where I know literally zero things, and I'm the only female (at least none of my coworkers will be throwing off my cycle, am I right? #silverlining).

In the same week that I was contacted about the new job, I was also contacted by someone that saw an ad on Craigslist (which I put up weeks prior) and wanted to know if I was still looking for a roommate. Oddly enough, I had just made up a flyer and was about to print out a couple copies to hang around UNI and some churches around town, but I decided to hold off until meeting her and talking with her a bit.

She came over one night and saw the place, we chatted a little, and she struck me as a really normal person (although honestly, what is normal?). I thought only creepy guys used Craigslist! Except for me. We decided it would be a good fit and she went to sign the lease later that week. She just moved in on Tuesday night and so far it's working out great. Not to mention the whole, paying half my normal rent deal.

Oh, you might be curious about her name?

Peace.

It's no coincidence that these events all happened when they did. You outdid yourself this time, Daddy. I think I'm starting to feel like the princess I am.

One nation...divided?

Last night I had some time to flip through channels and see if anything besides Chopped was on TV (I think it's my new favorite show...right after Treehouse Masters). I stumbled upon a special on the History Channel called, "102 Minutes that Changed America," and thought I'd muster up some courage and watch it, because really I owe it to America, or so I first thought.

This happened so long ago, what can I really do about it now? I thought to myself.

So I decided to watch. And continue to watch, despite the emotions that brewed inside. I was overcome by sadness. Sadness for the lives taken on this day. Sadness for the agonizing terror and loneliness that they must have been feeling while trapped on the 78th floor of the first tower. Or in the stairwell. Or under their desk.

But who is they? Each and every man and woman that makes up the they is a very real person.  A person as real as the person pounding away on the keys right now. As real as the one reading this screen, and the ones related to him or her. A human being with thoughts, emotions, desires and dreams. With a family, with people who care about his or her well-being.

It's amazing to sit down and really ponder the notion of they, especially with the events occurring all over our world today and the tragedies still taking place. Each member of the they has a family--whether living or deceased--nobody comes into this world alone. Whether it's mom and dad, brother and sister, grandpa and grandma, friend and neighbor. Each member of the they is has their own network of people who love and care for them. Who would be sad to no longer have that person in their life.

On the special last night there was very real footage of people, documenting the fears they felt, the emotions, the shock, the sadness. Then I remembered the confusion I first felt when I heard the principal over the loudspeaker in seventh grade science. I remember sitting on my window seat all night looking for scary planes in the sky, wondering if we were the next target. Looking back on it I find my fears silly and irrational. And I was in the middle of small town America. Can you imagine the other New Yorkers on that day? The men and women walking down the street, escaping the falling debris? Were they, too, fearing that this might really be the end?

As I continued watching I continued to see men and women, young and old, and hear their reactions to what was going on. "What are they doing now?" I wondered. "Do they look back and remember the fear that they are expressing right now?" It's honestly hard to imagine, but fear makes people do crazy things, and it's painful.

There were recordings of the 911 calls came in and while keeping the confidentiality of the person on the other end, we could hear the dispatcher and the ways that they were trying to keep the person on the other end safe, letting them know that help was on its way.

Commercial break.

Now I see political campaign ads, one person tearing down the opponent. Demonizing them and making them seem "less human" for what they are "really" going to do if elected. "Don't elect this person. He will make your life miserable, you will regret putting him in office. This person is not a good person."

This person. 

This person who also has a reputation, a family, desires and dreams. This person who truly wants to do what they think is best for this state, this country, this world. This person who has neighborhood barbecues, family gatherings and personal hobbies.

This person who lives in the same nation and experiences the same freedoms that we have today. This person who experienced the same fear, the same terror that we all experienced on that fateful day 13 years ago.

This American.

Were we concerned with the political parties and affiliations of each member of the they that comprised each person lost on 9/11? Were we worried about tearing down the other party, blaming them for the atrocity?

The contrast from watching a frightened America begin to bond together in the wake of such an event, every man and woman caring deeply about the lives affected. The firemen watching the flames on the towers, wondering if theirs was the next battalion to be sent in to rescue the men and women trapped inside.  The police officers and EMT personnel scrambling to make sure that each person was okay and accounted for. All rescue personnel doing what they could to ensure each person's safety.

And now we tear down the reputation of our brothers and sisters of our own nation for our own personal profit? I'm certainly not the political type, but I do believe that every individual has a right to his or her own reputation. To watch us tear one another down for personal gain is a sadness, and a tragedy in its own right. We are all grateful to be enjoying the liberties and freedoms that we enjoy today, and although I don't agree with some of the ways politicians do things, I also believe that each man and woman in public office truly does the best that they can, and desires to do good. Even if it's not what I would do.

It is important to remember the they. Each one of us has our own story, our own relationships, our own dreams. Yes it is sad, and it makes us cringe to think about the they that was lost on 9/11. Let us also examine the they we lose each day, each and every individual that is impacted by our words, our actions.

Are we truly, "One nation under God?" Or are we, "One nation, divided"?

First week: Am I answering any calls right now?

That's funny, because I am at the public library (where it is not kosher to answer your cell phone) and I just missed a call from someone (likely regarding a job). It's the fifth call I've missed since yesterday evening. Oops.

But the reason I write that title is because even though I am thoroughly enjoying having my days to myself (and many of my evenings as well), having no job, not many connections in the area and no schedule means I can virtually do what I want, when I want. The fact that I've missed those five phone calls is just quite hilarious because had they called almost at any other time I would literally be chomping at the bit to answer. However, all five people picked times when I've been busy (which is rare these days). Luckily I have plenty of time to call them all back. (Hint hint, if you've been wanting to get in touch with me this next month would be a really great time to do that!)

One goal I had: Get a haircut after newsletters
are done. Look what I've been up to! 

I figure since the reason I'm moving to Iowa is to continue discerning through this dating relationship, it's not a bad idea to start working on a schedule when Lee and I can spend time together, without seeing each other every waking moment that he's not at work. (We both know that wouldn't be good for either of us.) Therefore, I've started getting out of bed at what seems like the crack of dawn and going to Mass with Lee before he goes to work in the morning. At first when he told me he goes to 7:30 am Mass twice a week and 7 am the other days, I thought, "Oh, that's nice. Good thing there's a 12:05 Mass across town." However, I think it's beneficial to make that small sacrifice and go to Mass with him in the morning, especially since I don't have a schedule, I can get up and get my day started. Plus, my days have been so much more productive starting them with Jesus (and a cup of coffee). As Fulton Sheen once said, "Prayer + coffee = conscious conversations with your creator." 

It has especially been nice to simply enjoy so much of the mornings (and afternoons...and evenings). In fact, I don't think I've ever just "enjoyed the day" so much as I have in the past week. The freedom has left me with much time to simply think and ponder the comings and goings of my life in its current state. I've been thinking much about how I'm "answering the call" by being exactly where I am, doing exactly what God asks me to do.

This is how I see it:  I have complete peace that this is where I'm supposed to be right now. Although I don't have a post-FOCUS job yet (I still have until August 4th), I think it will be rare that I ever have the freedom to have holy leisure for almost a month straight...ever again. With that being said, I've been answering the call by trusting that I am exactly where God would have me, reading spiritual books I've wanted to read for some time, and basking in the silence that He is granting me right now. The fact that Lee and I are making sure that Mass, praying the Rosary together and praying a Holy Hour together two nights a week (outside of date night, an occasional bike ride and other fun activities) not only holds me accountable to prayer, but also affirms me so much that we are doing everything we can to keep Jesus at the center of our relationship, while not getting too caught up in being "overspiritualized (a common downfall of good Christian relationships...I have my own thoughts on this phenomenon)." We are getting to know one another on a natural human level, while also learning the inner workings of the other. I think this is a very good thing.

My first "home cooked" meal: Mac 'n Cheese.

I've also been enjoying more order in my life by going on bike rides, having three healthy meals a day and taking the evenings "off" by either spending them with Lee (Mondays I watch him play soccer and Tuesdays are date nights), watching a movie on TV (because I have cable!) or reading a good book while eating dinner. Taking the time to enjoy these things is helping me see what my life severely lacked as a missionary: order. I rarely took time (and felt okay about it) to do at least one of these things each day, and I suffered for it. Now that I'm learning what I like to do in my spare time, I don't want to make the same mistake in the future!

While at the Commissioning Weekend at Ave Maria a couple weeks ago, I was talking with one of the execs who mentioned that he once had a summer off and was so mad that he didn't have anything to do and was bored the whole time. Looking back, five children later, he's seeing how precious that summer was when he couldn't see it then. I have a feeling that this "season" of my life is a very special and unique one, and I hope to answer God's call by living each moment to the fullest, not waiting for life to happen to me, nor complaining of boredom. What a beautiful time of transition as I move to a new city and learn the ropes in a strange land! (I do hope to not get lost on too many more bike rides though...my poor legs can't handle it!)