Small Victories

Today, I said "No."

But I didn't say "no" at first.  Some students asked me to sponsor the Spanish Club.  I know that it would be great to have a Spanish Club, and I have some ideas for it, and they need a sponsor and, and, and.............and I said "yes."

I didn't want to say "yes."  But I couldn't help myself.  What if I let them down?  What if they were disappointed?  What if no one else would do it?  What if I was missing an opportunity? 

Andrew and I talked about my dilemma and my addiction to saying "yes."   We talked about how I already have good things to give my time and energy to- teaching new classes and coaching cross country.  How God is big enough to provide someone else.  How I am not infinite or limitless.  He reminded me that sometimes you have to say "no" to good things.  He coached me through it, he gave me words to say, he encouraged me that it was okay.

Today was a little victory.

Today I said, "No."

Remedy for my grumbling heart

Year number 11 of teaching has begun, and I find my will kicking and screaming, not wanting to submit again to the disciplines of being a good teacher: wrestling with content and ideas, studying, carefully crafting lesson plans, communicating with parents, getting to know students, collaborating with fellow teachers.  I feel discouraged at my lack of enthusiasm and vision for the year.  I feel sluggish and weary.  Inside I am complaining and grumbling and telling myself that I am ready to be finished teaching.

But then, in the midst of my unsettled, grumbling heart comes the reminder that this is what I am called to.  This is what God has gifted me to do.  It is what he has put in front of me to do right now.  No one said it wouldn't cost anything to be a teacher.  No one said it wouldn't cost anything to follow Christ.

This year, the call of Christ rings loudly in my heart and mind, calling me to lay down my life and my will to follow him and feed his sheep.

Then Jesus told his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

The call feels impossible, and in indeed it is, but our Savior has already gone before us.  He has laid down his life, doing what was necessary to redeem a people to himself.  He gave freely, without grumbling.  I don't have to save my own life. I can give freely to my students knowing that Christ himself holds my life in his hand.  

 As I read through the "Getting to know you" sheets each of my students filled out on the first day of school, I discover that many have written that they rarely or never go to church.  And now the battle inside me to do the work of a teacher seems to take on new meaning and seriousness.  The battle is not just to teach them a foreign language, but to teach them about the Creator of Language, the Living Word of God.  This is a spiritual battle, one that can not be won by human wisdom or power, but only with God's help.  

Please pray for me.  Pray for all believers who teach in both public and Christian schools.  Pray for our students.

First and last

Today was the first day of my (maybe) last year of teaching (at least for a while).  Of course my plans may be different than God's plans, but I am hopeful!

It was hard to go back after summer vacation.  I felt a little like a retired basketball player trying to make a comeback- rusty, creaky, and out of practice!  My brain felt scattered and distracted. Routines perfected last year were forgotten.   Plans felt elusive.

Meh.

Well, ready or not, here we go!

The hardest part of teaching

The hardest part of teaching is not...
the mountain of papers to grade
or
the time and stress of planning the perfect lessons
or
the pressure of administration, parents, and students all expecting you to perform perfectly
or
the doubt that clouds your mind while trying to discipline and train students to be responsible
or
the insecurity that floods as you think about what students might think about you
or 
trying to help your students understand complicated ideas
or
the frustration of knowing sometimes you just can't get through to them.

The hardest part of teaching is saying goodbye...
to students you love
students who make you laugh
students who have filled the halls with laughter and loud voices and all kinds of shenanigans
students who have popped in to say hello or ask for help or tell you a story
students who have shared life with you, shared tears, shared meals, shared dreams
students who have changed you as you have hoped to change them
students who have written sweet notes of thanks
students who have brought you a piece of chocolate because they know you like it
students who are quirky and smart and unique and fun and nerdy and artsy
students who check in when you seem sad
students whose parents love you
students you share memories with
students you have prayed for and hoped with
students you have seen happy and sad
students whose faces light up when they see you

Yes, saying goodbye is the hardest part. 

again

Hard to believe that we are already two and a half months into the school year.  Our first quarter has just ended, we had parent/teacher conferences this week, cross country will be over in one more week.

The beginning of this school year has been more difficult that most.  I find myself overwhelmed quickly and I feel like I am not able to do anything well---planning, grading, disciplining, teaching, etc.  Coaching seems an impossible task.  We have almost 50 runners and only 1 coach.  I never feel like I am enough for them....workouts should be better, quality time with each runner rarely happens, we don't have devotions often enough.

Guess I will have to ask the Lord for help... again...

It seems the Lord is having to remind me over and over  (and over and over and over) that I can do nothing on my own.  And even when  feel like nothing is what I would like it to be, He is still at work.

So I ask for help and He does.  He loves to help. He loves to be glorified through answered prayer.  A particular student has been frustrating to deal with, so I try in my own strength to get her "in line."  It doesn't work.  I ask for my Father's help and strength and wisdom and things begin to change.  My heart changes toward her.  I feel more patient, but also more confident to love through discipline.  Her demeanor changes.  She tells me she is trying to not be as disruptive.

Why do I always start in my own strength?  My memory of my own ability is far too short.

Apart from me you can do nothing...
John 15:5

Pile of paperclips

This pile of paperclips represents 8 years of my life.

8 years of teaching, creating, investing, thinking, planning, and loving.

I spent the past three days going through old files, reorganizing and throwing things away.  As I pulled paper clips off of different sets of copies, all things I had created for my classes, I realized that the past 8 years has been time well spent.

More than ever I love teaching and love my students.  They are a delight to my soul.  Their personalities fill my heart.  Their quirky comments make me laugh ("Miss Jackson, it's as hot as a thermos in here!").  Their faces make me smile.


It is true what Mumford and Son's says: Where you invest your love, you invest your life.

Lord, let me invest my life well!