FAQs on Montana

I’ll call this FAQ’s with a little unwanted information. Since moving to Montana my inbox and Facebook messages have been flooded with questions about my life here, some I have responded to, others I have not. So, here are a few facts for you.

1.     Why did you move to Montana?

The long story or the short? The short story is, I have interest in getting my Ph.D. in rural education development and this is my way of seeing if that is something I am really interested in investing in studying.

The long story is….I crave adventure! For those of you who know my family, you likely know my older brother. He’s lived his own sort of adventure and throughout my life I’ve heard the words “you should write a book.” However, the main character of that book would be my brother. Granted, the book might likely be worthy of the New York Times Bestsellers list, but having to be his little sister made me crave my own adventure. We are adventurous in our own (extremely different) ways but we both have the craving to see and do things that others would never dream of. After growing up in the same small town, in the same house, with a few vacations here and there I could not wait to begin my own journey. That journey began as I completed high school and went away to college and hasn’t really stopped since. And there you have it, that crazy desire for adventure landed me in rural southeastern Montana. Of course, there’s more to the story but more of that will come below.

2.     What exactly do you do?

How do I even begin to explain? Here’s a rough idea of what I do. I live and teach at a one-room schoolhouse in rural southeastern Montana. Little House on the Prairie? There are a few similarities. I have nine students (I use to have 11). My students range from kindergarten through eighth grade. Here’s the breakdown:

      Kindergarten – 2 students

      2^nd grade – 3 students

      3^rd grade – 1 student

      4^th grade – 2 students

      8^th grade – 1 student

      (& I use to have a sixth and seventh grader.)

On one side of my classroom is a door that leads to a coat room/art supply closet/cafeteria area (by cafeteria area I mean a refrigerator, microwave, and a set of drawers with utensils and dinnerware). On the other side of my classroom is a door that leads directly into what is called the “teacherage”. This “teacherage” is where I live. This door leads from my classroom into my living room. In fact, I live at my school.

3.     How do you teach more than one grade level at a time?

This is the question that all my teacher friends seem to want to know the answer too. First, flexibility is an absolute requirement and multi-tasking is essential. Our morning starts with time together, since my students don’t have numerous classmates and enjoy working together I try to give them opportunities daily to interact with one another academically. After our calendar/morning work time they all begin going their separate ways. Each student begins every subject with a review, which we call “Daily’s.” Typically my second graders finish first, so then I get them started on their task for that subject, then I move to third, then fourth, then eighth. We do not always move along in that order, like I said, flexibility is key. For those who are wondering, I make approximately 16 lesson plans per day, equaling approximately 64 lessons per week. I rarely get bored. I do have an aid, she is my frequent life saver. My kindergarten students come only two days per week. My aid typically spends all of Tuesday and Thursday working with our kindergarten students. On Monday’s and Wednesday’s she assists with any and everything. School is from 8A.M. to 4P.M. Monday through Thursday, and we do not have school on Friday’s. (This is super helpful for me to be able to accomplish anything in town.)

4.     Where do you live?

As my brother and I drove out to my house when he came to visit in November, he gawked along the gravel road and mumbled several times, “I had no idea.” No matter how much I explain this question, I cannot fully give you an idea of where I live. For most people, it’s just too far from what they can imagine. But, here’s my best shot. I live 34 miles from the nearest town (that’d be Miles City). Seventeen of those miles are along a two-lane highway. The other seventeen miles are on a gravel road. In this entire stretch you could count the number of houses that you pass on two hands. The nearest gas station takes me approximately (on days when the roads are good, i.e. not winter) 45 minutes to get to. Miles City, Montana has approximately 8,000 people; the entire town has a smaller population than my church has members in Lexington, Kentucky. The nearest Starbucks is almost 3 hours away in Billings, Montana, as well as all reasonable shopping options. (Who would’ve thought I could handle that?)

5.     What do you like about living there?

I like that I know my students and their families. I know what they like and don’t like, I know their families, their pets and their friends. I like that I get the opportunity to invest in student’s lives and not just in their education or test scores.

I love that my prayer after making the decision to come here was to not let the slower pace of life drive my crazy, but instead use it to grow closer to God. I can’t say there haven’t been struggles here, there are days when I miss being able to drive one mile to walk around Target. However, I have tried to use ever ounce of my time devouring the word of God. He has placed people in my life that challenge me to dive deeper, teach me through their own faith and beliefs, and offer all that they have to serve others (me included).

6.     What do you NOT like about living there?

Burning garbage is one of my least favorite jobs here. There is no garbage service (in fact we only get mail service three days a week). Although I have adjusted to having to burn garbage, I miss the convenience of city living. I always had this perplexing idea that I was a “country girl” or the idea that people assumed that is who I was. Wow, was I wrong. I miss the city.

Winter. Need I say more? Winter is not fun. Need I remind you that I live 17 miles down a gravel road? Or that roads are NOT regularly scraped here by snowplows?

I really like variety, whether that be in stores, restaurants or activities, and I find that there is not much of that here. I miss being able to have a plethora of options available within five minutes. Or simply having something delivered.

Amid all of that, the hardest part of living here is not being able to be Aunt Shannon so much. I miss my sweet princess. The past 3 years of being Aunt Shannon have been the biggest delight of my life, not seeing that sweet girl makes my heart hurt many a days. However, I trust that God surrounds her with people daily who love her as much as I do and that as much I want to be a part of her life, she doesn’t need me. I simply hope that someday, when she’s a bit older, that she will want to come visit me, wherever I might be by then.

7.     How long are you staying in Montana?

And that my friends is the cliffhanger. J

Should you have any more questions, please feel free to ask. J

Preg Testing Cows & Learning about Jesus

As a teacher, one of my objectives in my own classroom is to ensure that I take advantage of “teachable moments” as they arise in my classroom. To be fair, I try to take on the same thought process in my own life. I find it peculiar how God chooses to speak to me some days and yesterday was one of those days.

            Living in Montana has been an interesting change for my life. Although I grew up in what I would consider a rural area I have come realize that Montana is much more rural than anywhere I have ever lived. On top of that, I have learned that I have fully adjusted to living in a more urban area over the past few years of my life. Even so, God has chosen this rural way of life to teach me a lot about my life, my desires, and Him.

Yesterday I was at a neighbors ranch while they were administering pregnancy tests on a couple hundred cows. They had informed me this activity should be a part of my “Montana experience.” I was by no means certain this should be a part of any “experience.” But, I followed along. As I sat there watching each cow being herded  down a narrow chute, into a contraption (I have no clue what that device is called.) that would hold them in place while the veterinarian had the not so pleasant job of seeing if each female cow is currently carrying a baby, my mind drifted off to other places. As the cows are herded through the narrow chute they are slightly perturbed. At the end of the chute is the contraption that they must stand enclosed in while the vet checks to see if they are pregnant, a couple of vaccines are given, and information is noted on each individual cow. When they reach this contraption, just beyond one end they can see freedom. Each cow tries to run through this contraption, while the vet quickly closes the gate and traps the cow within it to check her out.

Astonishingly enough I found this to be a lot like our Christian walk. There are times when we have come through a narrow tunnel in life, a challenging place, one where we are poked and prodded, then we see the light at the end of the tunnel and want to run! Run for freedom, run to escape the challenges we have been facing, just run! Then, a door slams, right in front of our face, trapping us inside. Or so we think. However, I believe, it is then, in that little tiny amount of time, where God closes a door, before allowing us to see the light at the end of the tunnel, where He is saying, not yet. Not just yet, you aren’t ready, you haven’t learned your lesson, you are going to miss the point, something, just not yet. If we rush through those moments or phases, simply focused on what’s at the other end of that tunnel, we can miss an important lesson. A lesson that God fully intended us to learn through all of that poking and prodding we faced along that narrow chute. Sometimes we are too busy worrying about what’s on the other side, who is going first, or what is behind us (and cows are too) to stop, learn our lesson, and then keep going. When we make it through that challenge, it is then that God can reveal to us the light at the end of the tunnel. The sun we are now not only seeing, but appreciating, following our challenge.

Yesterday was certainly a step outside of my normal, but one in where I did not want to miss what God intended for me to learn. So, as I face challenging situations and circumstances I will simply realize that maybe the light isn’t for me yet, maybe it’s just a reminder to stop and listen to the poking and prodding so I can enjoy the light when I get there.

I  also called my mom last night to inform her of another first I’d had yesterday. That first would be, cow manure on my clothing. I don’t suggest it; it’s not too lovely. J

Be Blessed! 

Church Nursery

     Although I’m not a parent, I feel as though I got a brief glimpse of what parenting might be like. For those who know him and I, you know that I’ve learned several valuable life lessons from my older brother. This past Sunday at Church I learned a lot and laughed a little, both at and with him.

     Michael has been fortunate to have lots of family and family friends willing and able to care for his daughter for the past two years. I asked him to join me for Church this Sunday and he did. We discussed on our way there whether we’d keep Mary Emily with us or have her go to nursery. I could tell from the conversation he wasn’t too keen on the idea of nursery. He mentioned that she’d been to nursery at another church but I knew even walking in the door he wasn’t certain about leaving her there. Finally we decided for us to hear and understand the sermon it would probably be best if she went to nursery. As I prayed that he’d attend Church with me in the past few weeks, I prayed God would provide no obstacles in him hearing a message that he needed. Mary Emily is absolutely not an obstacle, just a busy lady who needs and deserves our undivided attention. As we signed her in I could tell the fidgeting was beginning. If you know a Marshall, you know our nerves show through fidgeting quite prevalently. We walked in and I told him I was going to escape quickly and for him to come when he could, trying to make the process of dropping her off as easy for her as possible.

     He didn’t take forever to escape, but the second he walked out the door he turned to the window. He turned to the window and stood there, and stood there, . . . and stood there. I finally insisted that we were going to miss church if we didn’t move along. As we walked away, I asked what made it so hard? He just said, “She doesn’t need me and I want her to need me.” I giggled a little inside at how this crazy, I’ll do anything boy, was struggling to leave his two year old in a room with great Godly women for an hour. To say I wasn’t feeling a little trepidation would be a complete lie. I wasn’t having the exact same feelings but I didn’t feel completely at ease either. However, I knew that if I didn’t show confidence there might be a bawling pile of adults in the middle of the nursery hallway.

     I’ve thought of these events several times over the past few days. Prayed for my brother, as fatherhood will be its own set of struggles, heartaches, joy, love, and challenge for him. Then I thought of my Father. My heavenly father.

     I don’t think that leaving Mary Emily in the church nursery was a bad idea at all, if I did I wouldn’t dare have done it. But as I contemplated those events in my mind God brought a thought to me. Anytime I turn into a room or walk through a door full of the unknown and surrounding myself with people whom I don’t know, God is standing at the window. When I surround my life with those whose hearts I don’t know and seek comfort and attention from those I know nothing of, God is standing at the window. God is standing at the window, looking in and saying “WANT ME! NEED ME!” He wants me to want Him! He wants me to need Him!

     This simple task of dropping off my niece at the Church nursery, seeing my brother’s nerves frazzled and knowing the pace of my own heartbeat at that moment, was a simple reminder that God wants me to want him. God wants me to be consumed with him.

     Michael will never know all of the lessons God has taught me through him, but I’m certainly grateful the Lord allows me to call him brother. 

Meatloaf

Isn’t it funny how something so random can bring about so many memories? This past week I made meatloaf in my croc pot. Meatloaf was one of my grandfather’s favorite meals. As I smelled it cooking throughout the day I thought of many fond memories with my sweet grandfather. He loved owls, long before owls became anything more than the background of a camouflage blanket. I believe he loved owls because he contained wisdom much like the wisdom people correlate to the owl.

My oldest memory, or story, that I love about my grandfather is from a time that my family and I spent at Disney World. Although I am too young to remember the story myself my mom use to tell of it quite often. If you know my mom, she steps out of the norm quite frequently. This time she stepped out by having my brother and I dress as Mickey and Minnie Mouse to attend Breakfast with the Stars at Disney World. We were only 3 and 4 and she thought it would be “cute”. Little did she know the fan fare we would receive from every character at the breakfast, how hard my grandparents would laugh and how they would shine with pride through the entire meal.

My fondest memory of my grandfather comes from just a couple of years ago and just weeks before he passed. On a sunny Saturday afternoon my sister-in-law and brother allowed me to spend the day with my wonderful niece Mary Emily. This Saturday wasn’t just any day for my grandfather; it was one of the most dreaded days of college basketball for him. He didn’t particularly enjoy when UK played U of L, as he liked both teams and didn’t really want to see either lose. Grandpa was eating with friends in the dining area at the nursing home he lived at when my Mom and I walked in with Mary Emily. He glowed! He became ever more excited when he realized Mary Emily was also dressed for the game, in appropriate UK attire. He went through the entire dining room, showing everyone his great granddaughter and telling all of them she was UK’s cutest cheerleader. For a humble quiet man like himself, this was quite out of the ordinary. However, nothing made him glow quite like sweet Mary Emily.

We grandpa passed my heart hurt. I had spent many weekends with my Mom, making the drive to Louisville to visit my Grandparents. When he passed, I wouldn’t have any Grandparents there to go visit anymore. As my Mom and I sat reflecting on his passing one day, I told her I knew why Grandpa waited several years to go home after my Grandmother passed away. My Mom asked, why do you think he waited? I certainly believe Grandpa wanted to get to heaven and tell my Grandma, guess who I got to meet!?! Our great granddaughter! Although I desperately wish that both of my grandparents could still be here to celebrate life with, I have no doubt they are enjoying their peaceful and healthy home with the Lord. As time passes I don’t really miss them less, they simply make me long for Jesus more. Because where Jesus is, is where my Grandparents are too!  

I love Cheeto Stains & Mulch Covered Feet

Today I began thinking about something in an entirely different way. Something that I've probably not put much thought into before. Being an aunt has turned my world upside down. While playing at the park with my beloved niece, I began to think about her joy. We walked around in circles, played with a balloon, and slid down the slide, probably thirty times. As I heard her giggle and saw her smile I thought of her joy. I love that her joy is pure. . .

She has pure joy!

I found myself following along behind her praying for her joy to always stay pure.

Actually, I found myself begging God to not ever let the world taint her joy.

At one point she tripped in the mulch (nothing life threatening) and I had to stop myself from grabbing her up, throwing my arms around her & wanting to protect her from the harsh realities of the world we live in.

(I openly admit I'm over the top & especially for her!)

On my drive home, after dropping her off (and already missing her) I found myself praying that God would protect her from every pitfall of our society.

I know, I know, this is completely irrational and impossible, but I want this so bad for her!

I treasure that sweet princess and although I've learned a lot from my missteps I found myself trying to persuade God that I'd messed up enough for her and I, and this way she won't have to know the pain this world has to offer.

I never thought I'd love cheeto stains on a white t-shirt and mulch covering my feet, but today those two things were a sincere blessing as I spent the afternoon simply being Aunt Shannon.

Praise God for cheeto stains and mulch covered feet!

Sweet Blessings to you! & may you have PURE JOY!