Holy moly, what a weekend. But it's framed by a verse that dove into my heart Saturday morning. "As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received." Eph 4:1. I live alternately in a place of worrisome, nagging anxiety and confident, adventuresome faith. Scripture says faith--but my thoughts tend more to gnaw on the seemingly satisfying chewbone of anxiety.
I am--God has placed me--teaching elementary music at a Title I school. Man, I love those kids. But I am not tough enough. So, at least, my principal keeps telling me. You need to get a teacher voice. A well-placed yell (particularly from someone like me, what?) goes a long way. At the same time, in my learning theories course we are discussing the importance of self-efficacy in both teaching and learning. My self-efficacy is at an all time low. Thursday over lunch (before an inservice day and three day weekend) my principal told me the schedule had to be changed, rather than meeting with 20-30 of the preciouses at one time, I will now have 35-45 at one time. Every other day, for fifty minutes. I'm not sure I can keep them safe; actually teaching music or empowering creativity seems like a pipe dream. Let's move a bit more quickly. Three day weekend, so headed to my aunt's house (six hours away) for a quick visit. A/C out in my fourteen year old (over 200,000 miles worth of adventures!) van, which means no defroster either, so stopped off at the kids' apartment to drop off the dog and trade cars. Said dog is afraid of car rides, and in her worrisome in-car pacing knocked over my purse. Discreetly, of course, so I did not realize it had happened. Nice visit with the kids, hit the road for my aunt's. A couple of pleasant hours down the road, I was a bit disoriented by the combination of darkness and construction, and went through the cash lane of the turnpike rather than the PikePass. Turns out I did not have my wallet. Frantic call to the kids--yup, it had fallen out of my purse in the van. Kids are awesome, set me up with Samsung pay on my phone so I could put gas in the car. But not before I found myself in tears--the combined events of, frankly, the year, made me want to just park by the side of the road and curl up in the ditch. Quit. But I made it to my aunt's, visited a bit, and went to bed. The next morning, reading my scriptures in the forest-filled quiet of my aunt's house, God skewered me with Ephesians 4:1, "As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received." I have a calling, and I know He brought me to it. My calling at this school is to love the kids. Interestingly enough, He is not telling me my calling is to teach them music, or empower them creatively. It is simply to love these kids. Every time I check in with Him (which, believe me, is A Lot), that is what He reiterates. He has a plan, He brought me there on purpose, and the purpose is to Love These Kids. Coincidentally, He has also equipped me with a tremendous love for each of the 400 of them, so that's easily done. I need to remember the calling I have received, be grateful He is so clear in communicating it, and "live worthy" of it by stepping peacefully and joyfully into its fulfillment, however many kids He brings me at one time. I also have a calling to live the rest of my life, the away from school part of my life. I have kids, and family, and friends, and a pretty exciting future working toward a Ph.D. in an exciting field. More world to explore, more art to experience, more stories to find. Monday through Friday in fifty minute segments is not the extent of my call in Him. Story isn't over. On the way home, I kind of lost sight of this revelation, was stewing and spinning over how in the world to accomplish anything pedagogically sound come Tuesday; stopped for gas in small town Arkansas, and Locked The Keys In The Car. Cue another eye-roll and "what the heck" tossed up to God. Pizza place gave me a pizza, gas station comped me a soda, and Steve the Folksy Locksmith liberated my keys. Even bigger, God the Father and Creator of All reminded me He is in charge. I can try to figure out whatever I want, but His plan will be the one fulfilled, and I have the opportunity to be a joyful participant, "living worthy of the calling" I have received. Since, apparently, He will be faithful in reminding me of that, I'm going to abandon the chewbone and try a little peaceful trust.
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Yesterday I hit "submit" on my application for admission to the PhD EdTech program at OSU. It's kind of scary. Rejection is real, and no matter (apparently) how many times I experience it, it still stings, and I find myself hesitant to offer others the opportunity to reject me, if possible! At the same time, my oldest kid is graduating university this spring, venturing out in search of his first "real job"--I can console myself knowing that, at the very least, I am setting an example for courage in the face of possible rejection! I want very much to be on the path God has planned for me--so why "fingers crossed"? Why not "triumphantly stepping into His plan, although uncertain what exactly it is!!!"? I know the latter is true. Hard not to cross my fingers anyway.
Looks like this might be dated June forever ago. It's actually December, 2016. This has been an interesting year. Friends from the future, you will read much about this year that seems made up (if the year is not just completely left out). It was true. Hopefully it seems made up, and has not just become indicative of the norm. One of the things that has intrigued me the most about the vagaries of this year has been the way in which kids have been vitalized to impact the world around them. It's worth a bit of mess to energize that super powerful, creative, delightful community. You're welcome.
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AuthorKathy Essmiller. Mom, musician, educator, nerd. I love exploring with my people--national parks, ideas, technology--discovering and adventuring through it all Together. ArchivesCategories |