Today is Thursday. Which means, it’s been a LONG DAY. Cue: lengthy blog post.

Starting work at 9am and finishing at 6:30 may not seem incredibly incredibly long or abnormal. But for me, it’s my most tiring day teaching. From teaching 3 year olds to 9 year olds – it’s not a particularly easy day. OVER 120 children I *teach* today. No lie!

Luckily (ha) I admit I have TEACHERS sit in on some of my lessons (in the school) for discipline issues – yup, so that the children will be more well-behaved. And I can tell you, these kids are WAY more calm with their proper teachers around. C’est impressionnant, la difference!!!

Teaching, is a skill. But I used to think, you either have it, or you don’t. And me, I told myself, well I just didn’t have it.

Like a crazy person, I decided to go for the ride anyway. But I can see now, that it is a skill. And my, am I impressed by everyone who goes and teaches! And like I said before, who teaches well. This year I’ve learnt and grown I imagine, yet if I was to continue the teaching adventure, well, I’d still have a lot of up-hill trekking to do.

However, I’m afraid my year as an English Language teacher for kids is nearly at its end. Very nearly. In just a few weeks, I will possibly be jobless… (Penniless too?? Let’s not go there…)

This is where the real adventure continues though… the adventure called LIFE.

This is my story! I’ve just got to write it well.

And I am incredibly thankful for this past year, that I have had this opportunity, a beautiful carefully hand-crafted part of God’s plan for me, and that I’ve stuck it out til the end. Advice to first year teachers – don’t give up! I’ve heard it before, and I’ll say it here now: the first year is the hardest! (I can’t really say as I can’t compare years, but I feel like it’s true!)

I’m gonna take a lot of memories away with me, mostly the happy ones, but also those most trying times.

Something as simple as a lil three/four year old inviting me over to his house (“Maitresse, tu peux venir chez moi!”), and of another sayin that I’m the most beautiful teacher in the school (ha),  and then the many love-filled hugs and bisous, beats all those hopeless feeling moments when you feel like the whole class is against you – little beings being little beings – disobeying, throwing things, running around, or trying to escape – and basically turning your classroom into a zoo.

But these kids, well obviously,  they’ve taught me a lot. And I’ve learnt to love them – and will miss them too.

WELL. Sentimental post just about over!

‘ll just leave you with this sentimental poem by William Martin; and be off with me….(job-hunting and cold Sweet’n’Sour chicken awaits…)

Make the Ordinary Come Alive

Do not ask your children
to strive for extraordinary lives.
Such striving may seem admirable,
but it is a way of foolishness.
Help them instead to find the wonder
and the marvel of an ordinary life.
Show them the joy of tasting
tomatoes, apples, and pears.
Show them how to cry
when pets and people die.
Show them the infinite pleasure
in the touch of a hand.
And make the ordinary come alive for them.
The extraordinary will take care of itself.

By William Martin


Feeling Fuzzy

Why does leaving a job feel like losing a part of yourself?

Dwelling on leaving PROBABLY isn’t the best way to end a day…

And leaving a job definitely feels more scary when you don’t know what’s happening next.

Future looking fuzzy…

Dear Lord…

Show me.

Guide me.

Lead me.

Open the door…

To where You want me.

Your plans,

Your love,

Your grace,

And all that I, do not yet see.

Help me to trust in…

What You see, just not yet me.

“Men Are Like Buses”

Went to London to meet up with a friend, and ended up meeting other friends of hers, as you do. And what bright old topic do we end up chatting about? RELATIONSHIPS. Non-existant in my book. Anyhow, I thought of this funny poem, “(…) men”, (more specifically about men and how I sometimes feel about them…), by the funny Wendy Cope. Thankfully from the few lines I remembered my mother knew where to look and I rediscovered the whole poem! So, I’ve copied the poem here (minus one word I choose not to use – the poem makes sense anyway!) Enjoy, if you will…

Wendy Cope – 1945


(….) men are like (…) buses –

You wait for about a year

And as soon as one approaches your stop

Two or three others appear.

You look at them flashing their indicators,

Offering you a ride.

You’re trying to read the destinations,

You haven’t much time to decide.

If you made a mistake, there is no turning back.

Jump off, and you’ll stand there and gaze

While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by

And the minutes, the hours, the days.

7 Things I Wish I Knew About Christianity Before Becoming A Christian

Stephen Mattson

Christianity comes with a lot of expectations. Some are biblical. Some, we’ve grafted on.

Sometimes we have unrealistic expectations of what our lives will look like after accepting Christ into our lives. We think seasoned Christians have it all together, always feel close to God and never doubt.

But it doesn’t take long for those illusions to be shattered. We soon realize that following Christ doesn’t look exactly like we expected.

Here are 7 things I wish I knew about Christianity before becoming a Christian:

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Take a break. Take a Kitkat break.

The holidays.

Time to breathe out. Ahhhh.

Right now, I’m back in my hometown. CARDIFF 🙂 (The capital of Wales, incase you didn’t know…) Just finished reading my lil bro a story about Freddie the Firefighter; dad’s watching the snooker and I’m a-sitting on the sooorrrffa with me lappy on me lap. Chilled!

I’ve had a great time catching up with family this past week. As usual, time spent with them is always too short. Yet I now feel like my home is in Lille, in FRANCE, across the sea. WHO KNEW THAT WOULD HAPPEN. With some new sisterchicks in Christ, of course!

But I miss my family –  love them to pieces! Even those I’ve not seen this time around, I think about them often.

TIME!? Where does it go.

My lil bro says I’m the prettiest girl in the world. Not sure if it’s my dad who’s brainwashed him – but either way I’m flattered!

Nearly 23 years old and I’m starting to feel old already.

A lady actually said to me today – because my dad is looking so ‘YOUTHFUL’ (her word), that she wasn’t sure whether me and my dad were (wait for the freaky factor) – TOGETHER! As in, the guardians of my little bro. Wow. I must be looking older right?! AND one of my dad’s clients (who I met last year) looked at me this week, gobsmacked, as though I was somebody new altogether. Matured, I say, like a cheddar cheese.

Life. It’s a funny old thing!