Skip to main content

five minute friday

Yes, it's already Saturday morning.

That doesn't mean anything, really.

I'd still like to link-up at the Gypsy Mama, so I'm going to.

The word of the week: voice.

My voice rises, gets louder, then at the breaking point, gets really quiet.

"No te escucho," my students say. They look at me, quiet down, and I begin again, with my volume so low that they must strain to hear me over the hum of the air conditioner.

It's so loud that most of the time I can't hear myself think.

Between the excitement of doing science experiments and the fair and halloween and birthdays and the promise of so many fun things, it is not until I am very quiet that my students finally start to hear me.

My voice; when I use it the right way, is a tool for learning. It is a tool for encouraging, a tool for loving.

When it gets loud, no one can hear it.

When it is quiet, people lean in to listen.

Not only in the classroom, but in life, in general.

I don't want to hear those who are loud at me, trying so very hard to be heard. I want to hear the voice of those who wait to speak, who wait to have my attention, who are interested in making sure that I hear clearly the importance of what they say.

And I want to hear, clearly, that still, small voice, reassuring me, encouraging me, loving me, that comes from above.

Comments

  1. this is great! i find the same thing about volume. the quieter i talk the more my kids listen. it's so interesting. talking quietly helps others to hear our voices. getting quiet helps us to hear His. love it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Eli,

    Thank you for the reminder that people don't hear our shouting. It seems when I shout I'm trying to force people to hear me. Perhaps there are times when instead I need to be quiet and let the Lord guide my words. May I incline my ear and wait to hear the Lord.

    You have some keen observation that you shared in your post.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

five minute friday

Linking up for Five Minute Friday hosted by the gypsy mama. It's Friday morning, there is no school today, and I am wide awake. I have been since about 20 minutes after my alarm usually goes off. I grabbed the cat, shoved her under the covers, and told sweet hubby "Merry Christmas". He wasn't very amused, starting scratching my head to get me to go back to sleep...but I am awake. Awake, and awakening, and growing in awareness. Last weekend was a wake-up call to me. We had a couple of friends over to watch movies on Saturday night, and by Sunday, sweet hubby and I were not on speaking terms. When we finally spoke again, late on Tuesday, I said painful words to sweet hubby.... If you are the person who was in my living room on Saturday night, then I don't want to know you. --I'm not.-- Then you will have to show me. And so we are both awakening to the task of rediscovering how to be good to one another, kind, respectful, building one another up as we r

adult decisions

(No, not x-rated, you're looking in the wrong place.) I was supposed to go on a college church retreat this weekend. And I didn't. I was very "unresponsible" and made the best decision for me -- not to go. I would have loved spending time in the mountains. I would have loved getting to know some of the students a little bit better. I would have loved spending time taking in God's majesty while watching the sun rise or set over the lake, singing songs of praise, hiking, walking the labyrinth, or sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch. Except that this weekend, I wouldn't have loved any of those things. They would have been a burden to me. And a church retreat? I'm fairly certain that it is not supposed to feel like a burden, but more like a blessing. When sweet hubby's good friend called me and texted me to see if he could ride with me, I said no. I couldn't handle the idea of talking to this man for three hours in the car af

if you met me...

Linking up at the Gypsy Mama . If you met me.... I'd be happy to chat for a little while, unless I was watching the clock and trying to manage my time. Sometimes I try, sometimes I don't. If you met me at school, I'd only speak to you in Spanish. For real. Unless there were no kids around, in which case I could speak to you in English. If you met me at the beach, I'd be running around in my pjs or a bikini. All the time. I think I even forgot to pack shorts for the current beach trip. Who needs shorts when there are bikinis and sunshine? If you met me, you might think I'm ridiculous about how much I love my husband and our cat. And please don't ask me, after you hear that we've been married for five years, if we have any kids. If I didn't mention any, I probably don't have any. And if I didn't mention on my own that I one day want to have kids, don't ask me when I'm planning to. I think it is rude, and personal, and you never kn