To say I hated 6^th grade would be an understatement – it was traumatic. I barely survived until June and then informed my parents that I would not be returning the next year. I don’t know if it was my determined (and practiced) delivery that convinced them or simply not wanting to hear about how horrible 7^th grade was everyday of the following year, but regardless, being the amazing parents that they are, they allowed me to home school the next two years and escape the horrors of returning to Middle School.

You know how people always ask that question, “Where do you see yourself in 10 years?” and you come up with some reasonable sounding answer, but really you have no idea, and you’re more focused on where you’ll be in 10 minutes? Well, it’s been a little over 10 years since my year in Hell and now I’m a substitute teacher. I bet you’ll NEVER guess which grade is my favorite to teach… Ok, so maybe it’s obvious to you, but I certainly didn’t see it coming – that’s right, 6^th grade. I love it! I love those quirky, awkward preteens trying to figure out who they are and where they fit. And I want to hug them all and tell them, “You’re beautiful! You’re brilliant! And life is going to be fantastic!” Not that they’ll all believe me – I wouldn’t have. But just wait, they’ll see…

Of course, that gets me to thinking – where will I be 10 years from NOW? I could come up with a reasonable sounding answer, but it would likely be wrong, and I don’t really care because I have to be someplace in 10 minutes.

Scribbling

The title Scribbled Journeys came to me several years ago through my dear friend Ryan. The thought behind it was that I process through writing, scribbling my journey through life on paper and often sharing it with others. I am constantly scribbling down on scratches of paper ideas, plot outlines, phrases, lines of a poem I might someday write – these are all part of my journey.


Recently, however, the title has come to mean something else to me as well as I realize more and more how messy life is. We have a black and white outline of what we think the picture should look like, but as we begin to color, we just can’t keep the crayons inside the lines. Sometimes this is so frustrating and I want to scream, “God! Can’t you see, you’re messing up my picture!?” But then he reminds me that it’s His coloring book, His picture, His crayons. He has simply invited me to join Him. And he reminds me that if I’ll relax and trust Him, scribbling can be way more fun than staying in the lines – even for a perfectionist like me.