behold the man upon the cross
my sin upon His shoulders
ashamed, i hear my mocking voice
call out among the scoffers
***
some days, i feel like the worst teacher in the world.
days like today. when i'm spending my "planning" period writing a blog instead of working on this week's PLC meeting notes that are due tomorrow. days like today, when my frustration level seems to increase with the frequency of their misbehavior; both inversely related to my patience levels. days when the projects i stayed after to work on til 6 last night, are torn to shreds, the laminate pulled from them, rendering the (expensive) velcro dots on the back useless in attaching them to the chart they are supposed to adhere to. when students yell "no!" on the carpet. when no matter how much love i pour out, or even pretend to pour out, it seems its not enough to cover their disrespect or trick them into following my direction. even in front of my evaluator.
just like i'm certain my evaluation today will reflect, i sometimes feel like i'm the worst teacher in the world. and not for your pity, or recompense of "you're fantastic!" i'm not. i'm broken. i'm hateful. i'm angry. i'm impatient. i'm spiteful. i'm fake. i'm so easily aggrivated. i'm worse than i am on day three of the daniel fast and suffering caffiene and chocolate withdrawls. i most certainly am the worst teacher in the world.
***
it was my sin that held Him there
until it was accomplished
***
i lift my tear-filled eyes to Him, as He answers my desperate plea to rescue me from my own ugliness. i can't even look at Him, in my dirtyness. i'm too unclean to even pray through this, i think to myself. i have no place here, with these kids. i haven't the love for them like He tells me i should. i haven't the strength to even choose the high-road around 5-year-olds. Lord, how come i can not rise above this? why can i not choose love? why is it so hard? why was this morning a wreck? is it my fault? is it theres? how could i have avoided any of that stuff?
i reconsidered the details of my morning. i rehearsed my lesson in the shower. i talked through it start-to-finish during my morning commute, complete with every 'kiss your brain!' and '5 seconds to 5 star listener!' i figured i would need to interpose. i sacrificed my morning prayer time to practice my lesson, as if one more, one-sided roll-play within an utopian vaccum was really going to be what distinguished me as a "rock-solid-teacher," as they like to say here.
His Spirit spoke to my heart in the same way that listerine begins to burn your gums as you swish it about in your mouth; there was a sting, but, it's cleaning away the plaque. You sacrificed your time with Me. You spent time preparing for a lesson that looks perfect on paper; the way you truly would've taught it regardless if someone was in there or not. You couldn't have foreseen those issues. Nothing that happened today was anything more preparation would have saved you from. you could've spent your time with Me, soaking in the Peace of My presence. you couldn't predict what would happen, but you could prepare for how to respond. your heart and attitude is one thing you could've prepared, in order to respond in grace and patience. instead, you responded with your flesh. you responded by letting your own disappointment get the best of you. you let it eat away at the joy that was already depleated, and in need of replinishing from me. my desire was to give you peace, not as the world, or a good evaluation would give. but peace that would surpass the troubles of your heart and lead you confidently past fear of failure into My glory.
***
His dying breath, He gave me life
***
my head hung between my hands, as heavy as my heart. i'm so sorry Lord. I'm not only the very worst teacher, i'm also the very worst Christian. scratch that-- the very worst sinner. I can't even look at myself. how on earth am I ever going to be successful (in the classroom) this year like this? if it is consistently this hard?
just then, two of my students from last year walk in. i quickly dry my eyes and sit up proper at my desk. they are eager to share some of their writing from today; a book about dogs and a list of how to be respectful written on the back of a picture of two dolphins spouting off water from their blowhole into the sunset. little did they know, they were angels cloaked in crayola hues and tutus. a very tangible reminder of the progress that my kiddos will make. of the love that they will have for me, (and me for them) at the end of this road. as fabulous as those kiddos' new teacher is, she didn't teach them to write that book or come up with ways to help friends: that was taught in my class, last year. i watched as they learned how to form letters for the first time, as they took h-o-u-r-s to complete one illustration in their journal. these kiddos were once like the kiddos in my class (albeit a little better behaved), and look how they've progressed. see how they love? see how they remember you? how they even say, "how could we ever forget you?!" you've made a difference. you will continue to make a difference. as they hugged me goodbye, it might as well have been Jesus Himself wrapping His arms around my heart, reminding me of Love.
***
i know that it is finished.
***
the day is done. i made the long trek back to my room in the corner of the school from dismissal in the gym. as the sea of first- and second-graders swam downstream past me, i silently said to myself, the day is done, it is water under the bridge.
He chimed in, be like Noah; build a boat.
i say so often, it's water under the bridge. i say that it doesn't matter, hoping that will trick me into believe it. but to move on, i need to build a boat, and get over it. truly let it fall off, just like the sins and chains of my past. we've got to let go of the failures that shackle us to the cell of negativity. we need to see them, upon the sides and shoulders and exposed sinew of our Savior, and trust that He has spilled the blood for them already. we lay them down, so we can pick up the Peace, not the pieces.
***
i will not boast in anything
no gifts, no power, no wisdom
but i will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection
why should I gain from His reward
i can not give an answer
but this i know with all my heart,
His wounds have paid my ransom.
***
i may have not suceeded at much today. i loosened my heart's tether to the Lord. i acted in bitterness towards my students instead of in love. i looked, and felt, like a failure in front of my administration. but there is one thing that gives me hope: Jesus Christ, and the fact that He has the victory. my worth is not determined on some scuewed five-point scale, in which 3 means rock-solid (truly, that's how it's set up). my worth is not wrapped up in a scroll cataloguing the list of my sins and failures and disappointments. i don't know why, but He values me more than those things, especially when we are a culture-- a human race, that prides ourselves in out-performing each other. He values me, in spite of the things that make me so ugly and feel so worthless. so much so, that He gave His life for it. so, for that, there's tomorrow. really, there's right now. there's this afternoon, and knowing that it is truly finished and no amount of worry or blood-infused sweat will change what transpired today. i do know this: tomorrow's drive to school will be filled with nothing more than worship of my King, and soaking in His presence before going about doing anything else.
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