My last post was a bit of a departure for me as I typically don’t repeat “locker room vernacular” many times in one post. As my husband pointed out, “the words B***-H*** make you cringe.” If I surprised some of my readers or bothered them just a bit with my choice of content, my apologies. Since I didn’t receive a ton of comments about the post, I will assume my readership took it all in stride.
I also mentioned in my last post about my return to the classroom after a year’s hiatus. This past week I attended my first set of Stony Brook School faculty meetings. It was uncanny how many aspects of the week felt like putting on a favorite pair of clothes. I have always been a bit nervous about stating in writing what my calling in life is. It feels too presumptuous. Yet this I know: I have been called to teach. Whether it is in a formal classroom or an informal gathering in my home, the desire to teach and do it well stirs my blood. To paraphrase Eric Little, “When I teach, I feel God’s pleasure.”
This is not to suggest that every day in the classroom is a bed of roses. Quite the contrary! I have never been more tired emotionally, mentally, and physically than when I have a day of teaching. But deep down I know this is what I am supposed to do.
One of the reasons I resisted stating my calling as a teacher for so long was because I think it takes time to have a calling confirmed. As I enter into my eighth year of teaching (and twenty years since I started), I have some experience under my belt and others have spoken into my life, confirming this calling. Another reason for the hesitation is that I have other aspirations as well, including writing and speaking, which in some respects is a different type of classroom. However, even though I may know this is where God wants me to be, I would be less than honest if I didn’t admit to some anxiety about the coming year. I will be juggling two jobs at SBS—part-time classroom teacher and part-time assistant writer/editor. I want to do both jobs well. At times I will feel too stretched. Yet God promises “His mercies are new every day.” It is my job to accept those mercies each day.