Wondrous Works: From Ninth Grade Dropout to Teacher

I dropped out of school in the ninth grade. I never attended one day of high school so sitting in a college class with a bunch of much younger students was daunting. To be able to register, I had to take a general education test and pass it. Then I had to overcome a myriad of other obstacles to forge a way to start my college education. I lived at an elevation of 8,500 feet- 20 miles away from the college in a log cabin with no electricity or running water and had little financial resources to even think of going to college. It seemed an impossible dream. Yet, the dream was slowly becoming a reality. I had begun taking two classes in the summer and had completed my course work for the first week.

On Friday, my English professor passed back my first paper. I had written a story comparing my son’s mountain lifestyle with his cousin’s-who lived in the city. I was apprehensive to look at the teacher’s comments. In lovely hand-written scrip at the top of the page I read, “Good first try. You have potential.” I felt portions of insecurity slough off me like the dead scorched skin of a too-aggressive sunburn. The confidence I needed to believe I could succeed in any classroom was just one of the many challenges I had to overcome. I had not been in school for 15 years. Her words were like soothing aloe. encouraging me to keep going. That summer, I passed both classes and signed up for two more: English 102 (with the same professor) and Art Appreciation.

I was in love with the learning, loved breathing in new ideas, loved expanding my world through art and music, loved learning more and more about writing, loved having the opportunity to share my thoughts and feelings with written words. I grew resolute about my desire to teach. Watching the passion of professors who cared strongly not only about their subject matter, but also about the students they were teaching took hold in my heart. Their ability to impact lives was powerful.

One of the most influential touchstones of my college years was that first English professor. Her name was Marilyn Larson- the teacher who did not appreciate me laughing at my first homework assignment. She not only encouraged my writing and taught me a great deal in that few short weeks, she developed a connection with me and an interest in my progress. She took time to teach me how to apply for scholarships. I was awarded an academic scholarship the following quarter and for the rest of my college experience, I received scholarship money. She helped me to navigate the ins and outs of college life. She was an amazing role model- the kind of teacher I wanted to be.

But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:19 KJV

Over the next few years, I registered for class after class and the Lord provided. I took history, psychology, drama, speech, children’s literature, Shakespeare, and more. I remained enamored throughout- absorbing the thrill of learning what I had never been taught. The only blight spot on the horizon concerning classes was the looming- the dreaded- math. How would I ever be able to pass the required math classes?

My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. 2 Corinthians 12:9

When it looked like I might actually earn an Associate’s Degree, I knew I had to face the inevitable and register for the most basic math class I could earn credit for and then I prayed. I prayed my way through every required math class after that. I did my part. I studied and studied and studied. I faithfully completed my tortuous homework. I went for tutoring help. I drove the teachers crazy with questions from my front row seat. I even had a teacher give me a huge button to wear on the last day of class that said, “I LOVE MATH” in huge red letters as penance for all the whining I did while in her class. Still, most math concepts remained as elusive as that pesky fly-here for a minute and then gone again-just when you were about to “kill it”. Therefore, before each and every math test, I prayed, “Lord, I do not know (fill in the blank-algebra, geometry, etc.) but You do. Please help me to pass this test.” And I did- time after time-sometimes with a fair margin- many times just one or two problems away from mathematical massacre.

I began to take classes to become an elementary school teacher. It seemed like an exercise in futility because I was sure too many stumbling blocks stood in the way for me to actually earn a degree, but I kept plodding on, just loving the learning, not wanting to give up.

Who does great things, unfathomable, And wondrous works without number. Job 9:10

Two years after I started plunking out papers on my trusty Smith Corona and reading textbooks late into the night under a Coleman lantern, I graduated with my first degree. A few months before the quarter’s end, a reporter for the school paper ventured up the mountain to interview me and wrote an article about how I was surviving college while living in such an unconventional manner.

“Give me one moment in time, where I am more than I thought I could be- where all of my dreams are a heartbeat away.” Whitney Houston-

On graduation day wearing a black gown I never thought I would wear- standing among other graduates, I looked up into the vast audience to search out my family. There they were- my three children who had sacrificed so much to see this day happen. They had helped me study. They had encouraged me. They had given up time and attention with their mother and had hung in there with me throughout. Beside them was my husband- considering his feelings about my decision to attend college-far more proud of me and far more supportive that I would have ever expected. I smiled- so grateful for them in my life.

Suddenly, I heard my name spoken by the man at the podium. He was asking me and two other students to stand. What? The speaker was highlighting students who had overcome great obstacles to graduate. He told the audience about me never going to high school, about how I lived miles from the nearest town in a log cabin without modern conveniences, and that I achieved scholarships every quarter. He told them that despite the many challenges I had faced, I was graduating Summa Cum Laude- at the top 1% of my class. As the audience clapped, I glanced back at my family. They were all there-standing and cheering for me. Aside from the births of those three amazing people, this moment in time remains one of the most incredulous events of my life. All I could think of was, “Thank you, Lord!” To God be the Glory!

For thou art great, and doest wondrous things: thou art God alone. Psalm 86:10

Thank you wonderful readers for continuing with me as I relay to you my story. Next week I will conclude my education story- from dropout to degree. I want you to know what it means to me that you take time to join me. You can also check out my mini-study for this blog on the wondrous works of God. Again, thank you.

Wondrous Works: From Ninth Grade Dropout to Teacher-Study

Did you ever wonder what would happen if we stopped long enough to ponder the wondrous works of God at least once a day. This simple habit could add such an element of adventure to life. Just taking a moment to look at how nature speaks of God’s glorious work can bring peace and joy. For example, as I look out the window from my “Fufu” room where I read, write, and pray, I see a lovely overcast sky- one of those you feel rather than notice. After many consecutive scorching days, this day seems welcome- comforting somehow. Is it wondrous? Depends on your perspective. For me, today it is just what I needed.

Listen to this, Job; stop and consider God’s wonders. 15 Do you know how God controls the clouds and makes his lightning flash? Job 37:14

Last weekend, we attended a small church where my mother and brother live. The sermon was based on a scripture that kept popping up loudly on the white screen at the front of the small chapel. It said, “When I am overwhelmed, lead me to the Rock that is higher than I”. Ps. 61:2 KJV This scripture and the exuberant sermon were exactly what we needed to hear at exactly the time we needed to hear it. Is that wondrous? To us it was.

Sing to him, sing praises to him;
    tell of all his wondrous works! Psalm 105:2

Psalm 105 is a song about remembering and praising God for the wondrous events He has impacted in the past. Writing about going to college amidst a myriad of obstacles that the Lord helped me through, one-by-one, day-by-day caused me to think about a lifetime of events that have occurred since I met Him- to thank Him for the many wondrous things in my life.

I praise you, because you are fearful and wondrous! Your work is wonderful, and I am fully aware of it. Psalm 139:14 ISV

Remembering and praising God for all He has done for me is energizing. It gives peace when troubles seek to swallow me. Taking time to notice His hidden treasures daily in a word or a scripture or a song or the smile of a sweet soul comforts and strengthens. Commitment to noticing the sights, smells, and sounds around me that are splendid testimonies of what he can do stirs up joy.

“Great are the works of the Lord; they are pondered by all who delight in them. Glorious and majestic are his deeds …” Psalm 111:2 NIV

Please take a moment today to document a few wondrous works in your own life. Think back on certain events in your life you know would not have happened without the helping hand of the Lord. Notice His encouraging touch in the kind words of those around you. Breath in the nature you find yourself in- created by God. Please feel free to share your unique way of noticing God’s wondrous works.

Thank You for joining me as I ponder the wondrous joy it is that you are reading this blog. Really! It is an amazing blessing to me.

From Ninth Grade Dropout to Teacher-An “Impossible” Dream

Have you ever had a desire, a niggle in your soul that wants to do something different, something more, but talk yourself out of it before you even take one step in that direction? Do you often see so many roadblocks in the path of what you might like to do that it is just easier to try and stay on the road-of-no-hurdles? I understand. I have moments like that too. However, every once in a while a dream is sparked- it glows and grows- and will not go. You are compelled to walk towards it and with each step, obstacles break away and flames of possibility grow stronger.

I did not attend one day of high school. I dropped out in middle school- the ninth grade. I was not pregnant and did not hate school. I was a lost and angry 14-year-old with safety issues at home and someone willing to marry me to get me to higher ground. From fourteen to twenty-seven major events shaped my life: I divorced, birthed three children, had previously been a maid, a waitress and even owned my own restaurant for a brief stint. I found Jesus as my Lord and Savior, and was currently living in a mountain cabin with no electricity or running water where my family had resided for several years.

One day, my friend Debbie asked me to go to the local college with her to complete some paper work needed for her to attend her first semester. I get how corny this is going to sound- but walking around that campus was like the jittery homecoming of long-hidden yearning. My senses awoke. I could smell learning, hear people shifting books from side to side traveling from class to class, taste the sweetness of challenging new ideas, almost feel the growing of open minds. My unexpected excitement went deep. A past dream flickered. When other little girls in our neighborhood were playing with Barbies and baby dolls, I would seclude myself in my crowded bedroom, line up well-used stuffed animals against the headboard of my bed and stand before them imparting magnificent lessons of math, reading, and spelling. It was my safe place. It was what I wanted to do when I grew up.

On the way back to my mountain road that day, I timidly shared this dream with my friend and the utter futileness of even hoping that this could ever happen- so many obstacles- it seemed impossible. She encouraged me. She explained that I could get a GED (General Education Diploma) by taking and passing a test to prove proficiency and then start taking classes. Oh, if only that was the single blockade to allowing my dream to come to fruition. But…what if?

I went home and broached the subject to receive a resounding “No!”.Before you are tempted to think too harshly about my husband’s negative response, let me explain. He was very old-school and had made this clear from the start. He wanted a Christian wife who did not work, who stayed at home, and took care of the family. He felt very strongly about this and I had signed on from the beginning. Not only did his desires permeate his decision, he also did not have fond memories of education in general. I sadly relented. I knew it was an insurmountable long-shot when I brought it up. A dream seemingly extinguished before it could light and take hold.

The trouble was… that day walking around that campus had sparked a tucked away aspiration. Hearing about the experiences my much younger friend, Debbie was having at college only fueled the glowing embers. I questioned her about everything. What classes were she taking? What books did she have to read? What new concepts was she learning? I could not get the idea out of my head. As my desire to go to college grew stronger so did I. After a year and a half (when all three kids were attending school) I broached the subject again.

This time he said, “You can go, but there is no money to pay for tuition or books. You will have to figure this out on your own. I don’t think it is a good idea, but I will not stand in your way.” Yay! Now all I had to do was pass the GED having had no high school education, somehow find money to pay for books and tuition, figure out how to provide gas money to get back and forth from the college almost twenty miles away, still make sure the kids and house were taken care of, and a myriad of other challenges. I took my concerns to the Lord.

I barely passed the GED test, especially the math portion where I squeaked by on literally a hope and a prayer. I began cleaning houses in town that spring to pay for my tuition and books. I knew that the chances of me being able to earn a degree were extremely slim. However, my plan was to start with two classes in the summer so the fees were less and I could still clean houses. I would just see what happened from there. I tucked away extra dollars for gas and other expenses and registered for English 101 and Music Appreciation. I felt sure the Lord had given me the ability (after much studying on my part) to pass the test and provided enough funds to pay for that first quarter’s tuition. I, then, waited to attend my first quarter filled with red-hot excitement and gut-burning fear.

I sat among a group of much younger students in my first class on that first day-a transformed person. I was not the troubled and troublesome teenager I was when I had last attended school some 15 years previously. Back then I lacked motivation and reeked bad attitude. Now, I could not wait to learn-excited to do what it took to succeed. The professor was not much older than I and she started the class by going over the syllabus (whatever that was) and relaying the expected homework due for the next class (in two days)! “Please read the first 120 pages of the textbook and write a 2-3 page essay comparing two things of your choice.” I started to laugh. Then shrunk as she popped her head towards me with a withering glance over her glasses. Surely she was joking. I did not know how I would find the time to read 120 pages in two days and I had no idea how to write a paper. Later, in my Music Appreciation class, I was given a hefty assignment there too. All work due by the following class on Wednesday. What? I assumed I could ease into this education thing, not be pushed in with the force of a bulldozer placed firmly under my well worn sneakers. Help!

I drove home that evening watching for wayward deer along the stretch of highway between the college town and ours. I maneuvered the dirt road to the cabin, built a fire to cook dinner, fixed our meal, helped get my kids settled for bed, and then lit the Coleman lantern above the kitchen table where I sat and began reading the textbook pages I had been assigned. In no time, I was consumed with the thrill of learning about things I had never known before. I read about different musical styles from the Middle Ages. I studied how compositions differ according to audience and purpose. The lantern kept burning and I kept reading long after the rest of the house had softly gone to sleep . The flicker of my excitement became a blaze.

The next morning after sending everyone off to their own busy day, I pulled out my dusty little blue Smith Corona and began to plunk out my very first story. I wrote a narrative comparing the lifestyles and adventures of my youngest son living on a mountain and his cousin (of the same age) who lived in the city. I was so nervous. I had not written anything for a very long time. I did not know where to put commas, colons, or how to structure an essay, or much of anything where writing was concerned. Nevertheless, once I hit those first keys and got into my head and the process, I was filled with a kind of jubilance that has nothing to do with correct syntax, spelling, or grammar and everything to do with the joy of putting what is in your heart and head into somewhat coherent sentences. It was about the elation of telling a story. I was hooked.

Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and inChrist Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen’ (Ephesians 3:20–21).

Dear Readers, Thank you so much for taking your incredibly precious time to read my blog. I decided to break this blog into two or three parts in an effort to make it more of a quick read. Last week’s was so long!

Also, I am thinking of many friends and family out there who have their own “dream come true” story. They worked hard and did not give up. I just want to say “Good job!” and encourage those “in the midst” to keep walking towards that dream!

If you would like to receive a convenient link to this blog as well as extras I try to include weekly: Please send me your email address at: sonflowersandsoul@gmail.com or message me on Facebook or comment at the bottom of this blog.

I pray for a wonderful week for each of you. If you are facing some seemingly impossible challenges, I pray that you receive hope and encouragement today to help your situation. I pray for direction and clarity if you are trying to decide “next steps.” I pray for peace. In His love, Kristy