Every Monday I wake up and hope that it is Friday at 4:00 pm. I've spent the last few weeks in this sort of "survival mode" of sorts. This week has been particularly difficult for me emotionally. I never realized just how homesick I would be for my "comfort zone." I arrived at school around 6:15 this morning and left yesterday at 5:40. I don't normally pull "late" afternoons anymore. I get to school early and try to get as much done as I can. There's something peaceful and serene in my quiet classroom before the hustle and bustle starts. Today I rejoiced that my classroom got vacuumed for real and not just with my sweeper vacuum. I had to get a new filing cabinet yesterday. PTA has been pretty amazing at making copies for me. My stems (Greek and Latin roots) have been run off for almost the entire year. Only problem was my lack of place to put them. So I put in a simple question and received my new/old filing cabinet. You know you are a teacher when little things like that and various other office supplies make you feel amazing! So I organized my class again yesterday. So far my new seating arrangement is working fairly well. The students seem to like it. I just wish they'd pick up their messes every day. I'm pretty sure that's a kid thing and they don't do it. lol
So bible study was good this week. At some point in the discussion we talked about not "wishing our life away" or "wishing for the next step". There was something convicting in that discussion. I've been steadily wishing away my time.... each and every week. Each Monday I hope it's Friday. Each Friday I hope to be closer to a holiday. Each month I hope to be closer to retirement, etc.... I've been holding out until Thanksgiving break. Some days I feel like I'm forgetting to live in the moment... in the day that I've been granted. Each day is a gift from God. So why do I keep wishing it way?
I think this week I finally reached a "break through". I've determined the following things are ok: crying, missing home, feeling like I'm struggling, and just trying to survive. It's ok to take everything just one day at a time. Seeking a blessing or element of hope in each day. What I'm doing is enough. God has me in this season for a reason. I'd be lying if I said it was easy for me to be out of my comfort zone. Stripped down to nothing... vulnerable.... exposed.... Making friends is vulnerable. Navigating a new job location is uncomfortable. Learning to make home where you are is difficult.
I've spent so much of my time wishing for Thanksgiving break. Apparently this is the holiday I wish for EVERY year at this time. However I felt like it was different this year. I'm going home to visit for Thanksgiving. While I felt like that was going to fix all of my problems and the way I was feeling, my husband reminded me this week that it's not the solution. It was like the tiny pin that burst my bubble. Being away from home is hard, but it's not as if I'm going to be able to run home and move back any time soon. So instead of enjoying life around me and enjoying this transition, I've been wishing it away one day at a time. Instead of taking time to try new things, explore new locations, and do something I've always wanted to do, I sit and wish my time way. That's not really a good way to live.
I think for the first time this week I really got to sob and mourn my feelings and frustrations. I got to be ok with not being ok. That was a hard pill to swallow. I was gently reminded by some of the new ladies in my life.... that I shouldn't be wishing my life away. As I reflect over the last few months, I've found one mile marker to "reach" to "shoot for" to get me through. While that's not always a bad thing, I think perpetually it can be. I forget to stop and look around me when I'm so busy trying to make it to the next mark. I miss the beauty of the journey when I keep seeking the end. I'm not a runner, but when I did/do run I try to make it to the next "mark" with each step against the pavement. I don't enjoy what I'm doing, it becomes more like a chore just trying to get it done. I've never had that wonderful runner's spirit. God has been working on my heart and softly reminding me that I can't wish my life away any longer. He's brought me here in this place, at this time, and for a specific purpose. What's that purpose? I'm still not sure, but I know that there's a reason for it all. Maybe it was the revelation of change. Maybe it is because I'm supposed to be here in this classroom with the kids I've been given to reach just one! Bigger picture to this tapestry called life. The sad part is I've only focused on the thread and not what beautiful thing it's making.
As I sat and graded my kid's fall themed pop art writing assignment, I became so humbled. One kid is thankful that his mom is getting out of jail soon. Gosh my heart just broke for him. What a painful thing to bear. One kid was thankful for her friends helping her when she's feeling down and depressed. She brought a smile to my face when she was thankful for the "coolest ELA teacher". I miss being the "cool" teacher that kids wanted to be in my class or liked my class. I miss feeling like I connect with them and am reaching them. I miss feeling like I am helping them become better people! Of course I sit for a moment and wonder if I've been doing that all along. Have I been that person for some of them? Have I been a source of stability for them when their lives outside of school are so rocky? Have a encouraged them to read, write better, or even be a better student? If I keep wishing my life away and stop looking in the moment, I'll continue to miss the harvest from the seeds I'm sowing.
It's sobering to think about how much I may be missing because I've been so focused on hurrying up out of this stage of life. The good news is God can still use me, still teach me, and still bless me in this season. I hope to see the fruits of my labor and the impact I'm making on these kids. I hope to have a renewed sense of joy as they fill my classroom with their stories, their smiles, and their laughter.
I hope to live in the moment and enjoy the day that I've been given.
