A Bonus Minute and a Half
There are many things in my life I struggle with, but there have been two areas I feel competent in: writing and teaching. This week, however, has thrown a wrench in my feelings of competency and it has taken me totally by surprise.
The first day of my 39th year of teaching was the Tuesday after Labor Day. I approached the empty school building and my classroom with a sense of feeling lost. I sat at my desk, looking over all my organized lesson plans, handouts and “rabbits” I intended to pull from my magical classroom hat, but it felt almost as if these things were foreign to me.
As the day progressed, I put on the mantel of experience and I heard my mouth and felt my body move mechanically. The excitement of the kids felt overwhelming. Sitting in my quiet classroom at lunchtime covered me in the cloak of incompetence and lack of energy.
I looked up at my clock, barely able to read the time because the tears made it blurry. All I could think about is there are 174 more days, and this caused my breathing to catch and my heart to race.
I can’t do this! I thought in desperation.
Another class soon filed in and it felt like a tornado swooped around my room and didn’t leave. Again, I went through the motions and when the last bus came and went, I drove home in a stupor.
Arriving home, my husband asked me how it went and I put the mantel of experience back on and said it went fine. I told him of the kids, the tornados, and the high energy, but stopped short of telling him of my strong feelings of inadequacy.
As I sat quietly that evening, my heart reached out for God and I told him I can’t do this. 174 days is too much. I’m tired already and feel like the kids deserve better. Tears ran down my face because something I have always felt competent in was crumbling.
I went to school the next day, trying my best to feel nothing but before I could put my mantel of experience on, a handful of Tasmanian-like Devils (you know, the whirling bundles of energy seen on Bugs Bunny) zoomed into my room. They were excited, and many asked what fun thing we were going to do today, like yesterday. I must have answered them but don’t remember what I said.
I continued on throughout the morning and when the quietness of lunch canopied my classroom, a small voice said within: You don’t have to make it through 174 more days; all you have to do is work through this one. The tomorrows will take care of themselves. I have been clinging to this thought for the rest of the week.
I’ve felt compelled by the Holy Spirit to write of these things because I believe there are others of you who are feeling inadequate, overwhelmed, and sad. Please know that all you need to do is hang onto God’s grace for today. Period. You’ll have what you need tomorrow, tomorrow.
Matthew 6:34
