Mentality

As spring blooms all around and the thunderstorms bring refreshment to all green things (which unfortunately results in a ton of pollen that makes me sneeze), I find myself looking around feeling so very blessed. While I hate to actually admit this in writing, I really do enjoy living in New Jersey. I guess I should say that I enjoy the life God has blessed me with here. I love the area where I live now, it's so much better than being in the heart of a city. I love the community He has blessed me with. I love that I can navigate the streets of Newark, it makes me feel accomplished when I know where things are and how to get there without using my GPS. I enjoy the bustle of New Brunswick and the college feel that the town has. I like the diversity of this state, walking down the street and hearing at least 3 different languages. I relish the smells of the Ironbound after a day of work, when all is quiet in the afternoon and you get a whiff of Portuguese barbeque from down the street. I love the history of the east coast and the variety of buildings that you see.

While there is much to enjoy, there are many things that frustrate me, especially when it comes to the inner city. The biggest thing that has struck me as slightly amazing is the mentality of this place. I know that people are inherently selfish, but never before have a been somewhere where the majority of the people have the mentality of looking out for only themselves and that everyone is out to get them.

I see it in my students, as it is hard to gain their trust. Their life experience has taught them that people only do things for their own selfish gain. I see it in construction and traffic. Yesterday I sat for 20 minutes as 3 lanes were abruptly turned into one on a busy side street in Newark with no signs of warning. Where I'm from, people understand that when you merge you take turns. Not here. I sat in amazement as 3 cars refused to let me into the lane and sped up quickly to make sure I couldn't get in. Amazing.

[On a quick side-note, for those who have never been to New Jersey, the driving is completely different. Now I know that others will defend Jersey and rag on PA drivers and whatnot, but if you ever come to visit, brace yourself. If you don't go immediately when the light turns green, be ready for several loud honks. (Once I got a honk just before the light turned green because my foot was still on the brake.) The average NJ driver will not just let you move over in a lane. Impatience often runs rampant. My favorite is when there's traffic and someone actually drives on the shoulder to try and get around it!]

Any way, it is frustrating and sad to daily be amidst this cycle of culture. Generation after generation. I'm sure it also has a lot to do with the technology and world view of America these days, but it still continues to amaze me. There is immediately a defensive nature seen in so many people, and along with that a sense of hopelessness. So few care about anyone other than themselves and maybe their family and close friends. There's zero sense of a need to be a good role model or to do the right thing.

I know that I am among probably what is a smaller portion of the people in this city, but it saddens me that any group of people see life this way. It makes me question my own mentality. It's definitely easy to let the negativity and self-focused-ness rub off. Do I suspect that others are only out for their own gain? Do I judge the people I meet? Am I negative the majority of the time? Do I have hope that things can change? I know I'm far from perfect and am selfish in many ways. Am I really all that different from this fast-paced, each-to-his-own worldview?

I'm not sure I have the answers just yet, but I do know that there are many things I still have to learn about the inner city.

Finished

I feel as though God has been trying to get my attention for some time now. I haven’t been blogging because I’m pretty sure I would just have the same thing to say every time. My faith has not been strong, I have not been finding joy in Him, and I have been stressed beyond belief.

This past week I got to spend my spring break with A.J. in Indiana. It was good to have a week of doing nothing and to spend time with him. It was also good to finally slow down enough to remember that God is there and that He has things to say.

This week is also a favorite of mine due to the Easter season. It reminds me of why I am here and what I have to live for. Last year I remember God really hitting me with the reality of what He did for me. He became one of us; God became a measly human being, because He loved us enough to set us free from sin. He offered His life instead of me having to owe mine for all my mistakes. He loves me THAT much.

This year I feel like God’s been hitting me over the head for several months now trying to show me a very simple concept, but I have been too ignorant to really listen. At the Good Friday service in Indiana, the pastor challenged us to figure out what we are committed to. When Jesus was in his most stressful periods of torture and death, the inner thoughts he exposed were all about the Father. He showed full trust in Him, even at the lowest points of hardship. But where is my heart at? What comes out of my mouth when I’m stressed? What is my heart committed to? At Jacob’s Well this morning, our pastor brought us face to face with a similar thought. In the poker game of life, where do I go all in? To what do I entrust my chips?

When Christ was in the final moments of life, before he released his spirit, he uttered the words, “It is finished.” What exactly was finished? His life? His pain? His struggle? Were they just the crazy last words of a severely beaten and broken man? Do they affect my life? Should I just continue to struggle and try to model my life after his, on my own terms?

I am committed to my own success. I like being one of the best. Not THE best necessarily, but I like being at the top of the pack at anything that I do. Right now, my heart is committed to my success as a teacher. I want to succeed on my own terms. I want to plan killer lessons and deliver them flawlessly. All me. All to my glory. I go all in and place my trust and my chips in my talents. I’m fairly quick-witted and smart. I can trust in that. I’m always good at learning things and improving. I never fail. I can do this. I can trust in my own ability. I can succeed.

I live my life as if Christ’s death and resurrection, his conquering of sin, means absolutely nothing. I live as if he did not sacrifice himself so that I would be seen as perfect and flawless. Not because of what I’ve done, but because of His love and grace. When he exclaimed that it is finished, he meant the thing he came here to do. He conquered death. He finished what I do not have the ability to. He made me perfect. He gave me talents and in God’s eyes, I am holy and clean. I am a perfect teacher, not by my standards, but because Christ took my place. He took the blame for my sins so that I may be made perfect and holy.

Every time I teach something poorly or lose my patience with my students, Jesus is there, standing before God in my place, saying that he will take the heat. It is finished. I don’t need to stress. I don’t need to try to reach perfection, because I am already there. There is nothing humanly possible that I can do to love my students more. But I can love them through the Spirit. I can find my joy in Him instead of my day to day success in the classroom. I can stop panicking and getting that nauseous feeling in my stomach because He has died for me. It is finished. There is nothing more for me to do but accept His love and grace and to love others as a result.

Being religious gets me nowhere. I cannot follow a set of rules to be a good Christian. I cannot do things on my own. I am sinful and imperfect, I simply cannot. But through Him, anything is possible.

It is finished. I can find my joy in that.


Falling down upon our knees
Sharing now in common shame
We have sought security
Not the cross that bears Your name
Fences guard our hearts and homes
Comfort sings a siren tune
We’re a valley of dry bones
Lead us back to life in You

Lord we fall upon our knees
We have shunned the weak and poor
Worshipped beauty, courted kings
And the things their gold affords
Prayed for those we’d like to know
Favor sings a siren tune
We’ve become a talent show
Lead us back to life in You

You have caused the blind to see
We have blinded him again
With our man-made laws and creeds
Eager, ready to condemn
Now we plead before Your throne
Power sings a siren tune
We’ve been throwing heavy stones
Lead us back to life in You

We’re a valley of dry bones
Lead us back to life in You
We’ve become a talent show
Lead us back to life in You
We’ve been throwing heavy stones
Lead us back to life in You
-Sojourn

Today

Today is one of those days where I feel like I’m never going to be a good teacher. Having a lesson where students sit there and stare at you but don’t comprehend a thing is one of my least favorite feelings. If you don’t get them hooked in the first 5 minutes, the entire lesson is pretty much gone.

Today I tried to teach students how equations are used in everyday life with loans and savings. We learned the difference between simple and compound interest. Then we played with the equations for each, learning how to plug in the different numbers given in a word problem.

Today, after I taught this lesson and did some examples for them, I asked them to pair up and for each group to work on a different problem. They were then going to put it up on the board. 3 of my students attempted the work. 2 of them sat there and looked at me like I was an alien. I hate that feeling.

As the year is coming into its last stretch, the days are beginning to feel more successful. The majority of my students are trying their hardest, working more independently, and understanding more work. But…

Today I feel the opposite of successful. The notes I got from my last formal observation are poking me from the back of my mind. Feedback that suggests that I am less than proficient in my understanding of the material I’m teaching my students, that my math skills are basic, below the level of expectation.

Today I watched my students struggle through the unorganized jumble of explanations I was giving them to solve equations and felt like my math degree was going to waste. I can’t explain math to these students. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Today I’m frustrated and angry with our school system. I don’t have books or a curriculum to follow. I don’t have materials to use and need to make them up on my own. It’s a detriment to my student’s learning. But even more of a detriment is my lack of preparation which is resulting in poorly explained material.

Today as I was about post this on my blog I am reminded of Ephesians 3 and that God is the one at work within me. It is not me who teaches on my own, it is the Spirit who gives me that gift and gives me the words and understanding of His creation. While I need to probably work even harder at creating my lessons and thinking through my explanations, I can rest in knowing that He is ultimately in control of all of His creation.

I am ready for today to be over.

Six Words

I took the path less traveled.

Let me explain.

At school, my advisory consists of 11th and 12th grade students. A Big Picture graduation requirement is for the seniors to write a 75 page autobiography. Because my students have not been with us for four years (our school is only 2 years old) we have modified the assignment, but none the less, the students are still learning how to write about themselves and capture their experiences.

This year, our school got in contact with an organization at Columbia Teachers College called the Student Press Initiative (SPI). Long story short, the seniors are getting their work published! So awesome. Last week included me traveling to NYC to meet and learn about the process and taking my students to another Big Picture Newark school to kick off the book. I have continued to get more excited about this real, authentic project for the kids. Students who are barely invested in reflecting were excited to share and think more about their lives. The coolest part of our time working with the students was when they wrote their 6-word memoirs. These short phrases will turn into the title of their autobiographical piece.

The director of SPI, Mr. Chen, introduced this idea of a story in 6 words by discussing great conflicts. Especially that between Tupac and Biggie. He then related it further back in history to a rivalry between 2 authors, Hemingway and Faulkner, over the power of lengthy descriptions vs. short words. Hemingway was challenged by a local paper to write a novel... in only 6 words.

His story read as follows:

"For sale: Baby shoes. Never worn."

Mr. Chen shared this with the students. They didn't know what to think or say. But as the discussion continued, I watched one of my students boldly try to unpack the phrase. The others followed suite and spoke about what they thought the meaning was. Mr. Chen then compared the power of words to that of an iceberg. Students worked through what this comparison meant. One student hit it dead on, that stories and words can be unexpectedly powerful.

The morning ended with a challenge to the students to write their own 6-word memoirs. I participated, and try as I might, I was unable to come up with some of the powerful things that the students created in only 10 minutes. Here were some of the titles that they shared:

After the rain, comes the sun.

Everyone dies. But not us yet.

Unspoken words are the most important.

Broken to pieces. Pasted back together.

The person I thought I was.

Don't let the smile fool you.

Mom and dad, please come home.

The list continued and as the students confidently shared pieces of who they were, I couldn't help but get excited for them as I got chills from hearing their words. Students who hate doing work and are obstinate and stubborn were creating bone-chilling, powerfully packed, short phrases because someone validated their voice. Someone cared enough to hear what they have to say to publish their words in a book. That's some pretty powerful stuff.

This weekend, I have been thinking about what my 6-word memoir would be. When compared with my student's powerful, tear-jerking life experiences, mine seem obsolete and quite silly. My life has been a piece of cake when put in contrast with the things my students have had to go through. But, my story is part of God's story. My story is indeed unique because God has redeemed my path. I may not have had the trials and tribulations of inner city childhood, but I have made some hard, radical choices that took me out of my comfort zone. Through it all, God has directed my steps and brought blessings because of the road that I have chosen.

I took the path less traveled.

I can only pray that my students will some day find that there is a great path marked out for them. As I continue to learn and grow in my faith and discover what it means to follow God's path for my life, I hope that His grace will some day weave into their stories as well.

Is It Well?

I sometimes listen to music on my daily commute into Newark. It takes anywhere from 30 to 60 minutes depending on the traffic. The music ranges from the local radio stations to my worship CDs. Recently I've been listening to a free CD my mom gave me (amidst a stack that she sometimes gifts that includes random assortments from terrible 80s worship music to some really great stuff all in cracked CD cases which makes me wonder how they ended up with my mom). The past few weeks the selection has been from the Kutless worship album. I love it.

The first song has been really making me think and reflect and ponder during my drives to and fro. It is well. With my soul. It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Which makes me wonder, is it really that well with my soul? If I lost everything, what would I do? What if I lost my family? What if I lost my job? My friends? My church home? AJ? What would I do?

In college my immediate response was to trust in the Lord. My faith was so new, so fresh, so trusting, so reckless and radical that I would have gone anywhere, done anything for Him. My life has been full of His blessings from amidst the struggles and weaknesses of my life. College, being an RA, working as a camp counselor, serving in Jamaica, moving to New Jersey. My life has been stretched and torn, yet it has always resulted in graceful blessings.

But what about now?

After a year and a half of teaching in the inner city, I'm finding that a lot of my hope and joy has dwindled on a day to day basis. As I reflected one morning in my car, I came to the conclusion that I'm becoming slightly bitter. God has continued to bless me in the midst of my struggles in Newark, and yet have I been grateful? No. It has not been well with my soul for awhile.

Now I'm not suggesting that I've lost my faith or even really doubted God. I also am not saying that I've been miserable. God has continued to give me so many things that I don't deserve and I have been thankful at times and have recognized His love poured out on my life. Yet on a whole I just live my days as if He's not even there. After my morning devotions, I often times won't give Him much more thought for the rest of the day. That inner peace and joy that I experienced a few years ago has faded a bit. It is not so well.

This truth hit me like a ton of bricks. This is not the way I want to live my life. I know it won't be perfect, but I always kind of thought that my relationship with Christ would continue to mature, I never would I have guessed that it would grow so stagnant. (Guess that shows how naive and ignorant I can be, huh?) Talk about conviction.

As I listened to those words and had to replay the song several times to let it sink in, I reflected on the writer of the lyrics. He lost something like almost all of his children, and he was still able to lean on the Lord and trust and exclaim that it was well deep within his soul. Despite the rocky tumultuous waves washing over his life and making it hard to stay afloat, he still had peace in his spirit. I had that. I want that back.

In my reflections I also felt convicted of the fact that it's pretty much my own attitude that has been causing me to feel this way. I look at things more negatively now. I believe that that's a choice. Satan has used my frustrations and bad days to try to drag me away from that inner peace. Every day when I wake up I don't rejoice in a new day, I sigh that I have another day of toil ahead. In moments when someone or some situation is frustrating I don't give it to the Lord, I let it fester in my mind.

As my roomate says, "I need to be more about Jesus."

And that's the truth.

I want to live each day as if God came to earth and lived among sin in order to die the death I deserve. I want to let His light and love shine through my every word and deed. I want to be more full of the Spirit and to recognize and jump at the opportunities He places before me to love and serve others. I want Him to fill my soul. I want to be able to truthfully exclaim that it is, indeed, well with my soul.

Exhibitions

Finally had time to update! A certain friend of mine from college has been daily checking my blog ;) Hopefully this can be her fix for the next few weeks.

I've had several things I wanted to blog about, but I think that I would like to turn this post back to the classroom. Things have been getting so much better. Getting back into the swing of things after break (and an engagement) was hard, and with snow days and sickness our school schedule has been inconsistent to say the least. But things are getting better.

The last two weeks have been dedicated to their end of quarter assessments: Exhibitions.

At Big Picture we do “testing” a bit differently. Our school’s philosophy is centered on the idea of “real-world experience.” Internships, interdisciplinary studies, mentor relationships, all these things are found in adult life. You don’t wake up and do math for the first 40 minutes of your day followed by history. Life is a mixture of learning that is applicable to your own individual life. That is the way we try to do things at Ironbound Academy.

This model also has an interesting take on assessments. Most schools take midterms or finals or have quizzes and tests. Multiple choice and fill in the blanks are how the United States likes to see if the youth are on track with their education. But what about that student who freezes up and has test-taking anxiety? What about the kid who can’t seem to do multiple-choice correctly. Where in life (other than in the school system) are we ever forced to answer True and False to a series of statements (unless you’re being interrogated, but that’s another matter).

Instead of tests and grades, we do something called exhibitions. It’s basically an oral defense where each student has to present in front of an audience of teachers, parents, mentors, and peers once a quarter to prove their learning. Now, in my opinion, having a high school student stand and teach an audience what they learned for 45 minutes is a whole heck of a lot more challenging and accurately assessing exactly where they are than just a written final. Then they get drilled for 15 minutes with questions that force them to push not only their academic learning, but their personal growth as well.

I love it.

So exhibitions just ended. It is always a great time in the year because the students come face to face with the reality that they’ve either grown and learned a whole lot, or they’ve slacked off and done nothing for 3 months.

It is also a time that I like to sit and reflect on where our school has been and where it’s going. Any of you who have read this blog or know me know how incredibly challenging these 2 years have been. But we’re getting somewhere. Growth is happening. I saw many examples of that this last week.

When a new freshman presented very little information in a very unenthusiastic way, two of my students confronted and encouraged her at the end of her exhibition. The conversation went something like this (only sounded a bit more like it was coming out the mouth of an inner city teenager), “You need to start opening up to people here. It’s not just like any other school. The classes are small enough so the teachers really care about you and are involved in your life. I talk to my advisor all the time and tell her everything. She’s always there to answer my texts and I know I can be honest with her. You should talk to your advisor, once you start you won’t stop. This school is hard and it’s not like anything else, but if you try you’ll probably like it here. You just gotta get to know all of us, cause we’re all real cool.”

At another exhibition, one of my students who had gone down a bad path but who has started to get his life back together spent a good 5 minutes giving detailed constructive criticism on the things the presenter could have studied and done to give a better presentation.

Another student of mine asked really great, driving questions at every presentation she sat in on.

Seeing and hearing these things warmed my heart. We aren’t where we want to be. But we’re getting there.

There are many times when I’m unsure of what I think about education. As the district won’t accept our exhibition scores as midterms and are forcing our students to take the traditional content area tests that just discourage and frustrate the kids, I feel like just giving in. The traditional way must be right.

As students get frustrated because they don’t know what a sustainable biome is off the top of their heads and I feel like a bit of a failure as a teacher, I am reminded of exhibitions. No, our students might not know the whole scope of the curriculum. No, they aren’t forced to memorize the mathematical equations that I honestly probably have forgotten and would need to look up again. But yes, they learn HOW to learn. Yes, different students are starting to get the hang of going deep with their learning. Yes, I learned some things as my students gave exhibitions about the path to become a law enforcement officer, the different types of muscle and how to work them out if you’re a physical trainer, the depravity of poverty found by examining photography from Africa, and the different layers of the rainforest and how animals have adapted to their surroundings.

Some days I am discouraged and unconvinced that our school is going anywhere. But when exhibitions roll around, I am reminded that we are not only teaching our students how to learn and defend their learning, we are not only allowing them to explore their interests in very cool ways, but we are instilling life lessons and teaching them how to be grown ups in this crazy mixed up world.

I said, "Yes!"

I’m engaged!!!! I am the future Nichole Leigh Tippin!!

I had no idea it was coming. I dreamed that it might (if you’re a girl then you get the whole crazy daydreaming thing. It normally comes when we think a guy likes us and we take every little detail and blow it out of proportion to prove to ourselves that they really do), but I knew that A.J. still had a year of grad school in Indiana, he did not yet have a job, and he got a bit spooked the one time he had said “marriage.” ;) I had daydreamed that he would ask me to marry him, but I convinced myself I was crazy and continually tried to bring myself back down to earth.

Rewind to Thanksgiving break. As we parted ways and both drove out of Pittsburgh, we made one last stop at a Starbucks to officially say goodbye. We sat for awhile. Right before we left, he played a bit with my ring finger. I imagined that he was trying to figure out my ring size by comparing his finger to mine. My heart pounded for a moment, I got excited, then I convinced myself that I was crazy and I let it go…

Fast forward. Pause at Christmas break. A.J. came to Pittsburgh on Dec 27th. We had fun seeing my friends and spending time together. One evening when we got back to my parents place, A.J. headed downstairs to drop off his coat. My dad was down there. They started talking. They continued talking longer than expected. In my mind I imagined that he was asking my dad for permission. Just in case I started talking loudly to my mom and turned the T.V. up. But surely, there’s no way he was talking to my dad now, right downstairs where you can hear every word if you listened…

Fast forward to 1-1-11. The evening started out with excitement. We had a date in New York City on New Year ’s Day. The New Year’s Eve party the night before was fun, got to sleep in and rest, got to get all dressed up for a surprise date, life was good. As we left, A.J. did his customary check of his pockets to make sure he had his phone and wallet. He checked an extra pocket twice. I thought it was weird. Girlishly I told myself he had a ring and wanted to make sure he didn’t forget it, but then I laughed at myself in my head and rationalized that he was confused with the pockets of his new coat. We headed to the train station and just missed the train, but no worries, another one would be coming soon. I had no idea what the plan was, so I wasn’t worried. Besides, we left earlier than A.J. had planned.

We sat at the station for half an hour. Laughing, chatting, taking funny pictures. I thought several times how wonderful it is to have found someone I’m comfortable being silly with.

The train finally comes, we grab our seats, we’re on our way. About 10 minutes into the train ride, the lights in the car go out. A.J. mentions something about it, but I’m sure it’ll be ok. A bit later, as we’re approaching Newark, we get the announcement that the train is having mechanical problems, so everyone needs to get out. Things started to go wrong. We waited for 30 minutes in Newark for the train that was supposed to be “immediately following.” It was cold. I was hungry, but I could see A.J. getting anxious, so I did my best to keep a positive attitude.

We get to New York Penn Station much later than planned. We rushed to the subway to get up to Columbus circle, which was near the restaurant. We jumped on the blue line… maybe the E train? Anyway, we only needed 2 stops to 59th street. At 50th I looked up and noticed that the next stop is not the one we want… I realized as the doors were about to close that the blue line splits and we were going to be headed the wrong way. Darn it. Second time we had a date in the city and were on the wrong subway. Oh well. Too late now.

A.J. started getting frustrated and anxious. We were going to miss our reservation. But hey, I enjoyed being with him and it’s not like it was a super important date. It wasn’t our first and it’s not like he was proposing, so no use getting worked up. If we ended up eating Burger King, life would not have ended.

We were 15 minutes late for our reservation at a really nice Mexican restaurant. They gave our table away, but thankfully they put us back in the line-up and we only had to wait 20 minutes. We still had time to eat before the surprise event.

Dinner was slightly awkward, the table was oddly shaped so A.J. was kind of far away, making it hard to hear each other. But again, that was ok since it wasn’t like it was a first date or a proposal or anything. The food was delicious and the service was quick so we finished in plenty of time to find our next location: The Lincoln Center to see an opera.

I was excited. I love shows and the opera is not something A.J. or I had experienced. It was fun. We discovered we aren’t opera people, but it was a great date.

The show ended. We waited a bit and then began to head out of the theatre. There was a ton of people, so A.J. suggested we take a stroll around the level we were on. There were some gorgeous chandeliers, so I was ok with that. He was acting slightly more out of character than normal. In my girlish daydreaming mind I thought, “Oohhhh it’s because he’s going to propose.” Yet in reality I reasoned that he was probably working up the courage to tell me that he loved me, which he had not done before.

We left the theatre. I wanted dessert. Instead, A.J. directed us out of the herd of people leaving to a beautiful area with a pond/fountain/sculpture thing outside of a Julliard building. We walked around and commented on the opera and the art work. He paused after we made one lap. My heart pounded a bit, still imagining that he wanted to ask me to marry him, but decided he was probably looking for a spot to say, “I love you.” He asked if I wanted to walk around a second time. I noticed an interesting sculpture off to the side of the building where there weren’t any people. Thinking that if by chance he wanted to tell me something, that would be a great place to say it. We headed in that direction. We commented on the interesting statue. Then we stopped. My heart jumped.

He looked into my eyes and told me some nice things, like I was beautiful and he really enjoyed me. I said thanks. Then we got to the good stuff ;). He told me all the things he loved about me (honestly I can’t even remember because I was so excited that he was going to tell me that he loved me). The anticipation was building. Finally those three words that I was longing to hear for the past few months were said, “I love you.”

It was so sweet. I responded that I loved him too and gave him a kiss, but my throat was a bit groggy and it came out very softly. I was unsure if he had heard. He got a weird look in his eyes and didn’t really respond to my kiss. I started to panic a bit. “What if he didn’t hear me? Does he think I don’t love him? Did I just crush his heart?”

And as these thoughts were flying through my mind, the incredible happened.
For once in my life, my silly daydream began to come true. He took a deep breath and shuddered a bit. He began to reach into his pocket. My heart was in my throat, pounding in my ears. All I could think was, “Holy crap, no way, no friggin way.”

He said, “Nichole…” and pulled out a small box from his coat. He started to lower to his knee. Things get blurry from there. I think I went into shock. The immediate thing that came out of my mouth was, “You’ve GOT to be kidding me.” Everything I had imagined, all the little details I thought I had blown out of proportion were true!!!

This amazing man, this wonderful, humble, honest man, wanted to be with me for the rest of his life. I think I stopped breathing. He was down on his knee. I don’t remember what else he said except, “Will you marry me?”

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

My jaw dropped. Everything stopped working. I was shaking. My body didn’t know whether to scream or cry or shut down. I saw the ring shining in the box. “No way, no way , NO WAY!”

He looked at me expectantly. He had a slightly humorous yet concerned look in his eyes. Only a few seconds had passed but I realized I hadn’t responded.

“Yes!”

I nodded and smiled. He rose. I can’t remember the next few moments. Was I dreaming? What was going on? There’s no way that just happened. I looked at him.

That just happened. What?!?!?!

Maybe I kissed him or hugged him or just continued to look at him with my mouth hanging open. I can’t remember. I believe I continued saying things of denial that this was actually happening. My blood pressure was definitely high.

I noticed he was still looking at me with the ring in his hand. I laughed as I realized I didn’t have any idea what just happened. He slid the ring onto my finger. My heart exploded.

After a few more fuzzy moments of shock I said I needed to sit down. We moved over to a ledge. This incredible guy who was everything I was waiting for, who was an answer to prayer, just asked me to be his wife. HOLY CRAP. While I had imagined this and daydreamed about it, I never actually thought it would happen. I looked at him. I loved him so much. God was so incredibly good to me. I kissed him, I cried, I continued to say, “No. Way.”

My mind was running through what just happened. I couldn’t remember much of it. That made me sad. This was such a milestone moment; I had to remember what happened. I looked at him, giggled and said, “Do it again.”

He just laughed. “What part?”

We stood up. He didn’t get down on his knee again, but he told me all the things he loved about me. He looked deep into my eyes like I always imagined he would, “Nichole Leigh Smith, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” (This time with zero hesitation.)

It was perfect. He has no idea how amazing this whole thing was. For years I have been imagining getting engaged. Unlike many other girls, I wanted to be completely surprised. I was. We had only mentioned marriage once. I figured it would be coming in a year, after he finished grad school, if it came at all. Surprise!

I never wanted a huge public affair, just something between us, something special. It was very perfect, even with its unplanned events.

The ring is beautiful. I always wanted something specific. I’m clumsy and never wanted a big diamond. I also love unique jewelry. He completely hit the nail on its head. I could not have picked a better ring if I tried, especially with my inability to make those kinds of decisions.

I can’t even express how it was all so much better than I could have ever imagined.

So that’s my story. Life is a bit surreal at the moment. It’s hard to focus at work. A.J. and I have begun brainstorming and dreaming of our wedding and life after. It’s becoming more and more real every minute. I am so grateful that I have fallen in love with Arthur James Tippin. I can’t wait to start our life together and see what God has in store. A.J. really is everything I’ve been waiting for. Praise God, for He and His timing is good.

[Click here to check out A.J.'s perspective]

The End.