I love my job. You might not know that because occasionally I go more than thirty seconds before saying that again. But seriously, I love my job. On Wednesday this week, I got out of bed extra early to participate in the opening ceremonies for BFA. I walked in with my colleagues and watched the senior class process in carrying the flags from the various nations represented at our school this year. All but three of the seniors this year have gone through my class; I’m pretty fond of them. I stuck around through the afternoon as I waited for my eight minute slot with both of my class periods of new juniors. Eight minutes is barely enough time to learn to pronounce each student’s name, so that’s all I tried to do.
I got out of my house early again on Thursday to arrive near the start of the school day and get my TA set to work during first period. I had a lot of time doing prep work in my office before finally teaching my two class periods in the afternoon. Friday looked very similar as I was at school from 9am-3pm. That’s two hours shorter than the average workday, but it’s two hours longer than I’m used to being at school as a part time teacher. I’m still part time this year, but I’ve got to figure out the best way to schedule my time on campus while completing my lesson prep as well as taking care of my body. Also, Friday’s are going to be tight as I teach until 3pm and then have to book it home to leave for physio at 3:15. I’ll settle into my new schedule quickly, I’m sure, but it did leave me exhausted this week after just three days.
It’s so worth it to still have my job, though. I love these kids so much, and I’m so grateful to partner with their parents in their development. On Tuesday night before I saw my students, a couple sought me out to thank me for the positive impact I’d had on their son last year when he was in my class. They asked if they could pray for me. I was brought to tears by these missionaries who were entrusting their child to our school for his senior year and hoping for more of the same care and compassion for him in his pursuit of truth that he received here last year.
I love what I get to do, what I get to make as Taylor Mali puts it in his famous spoken word poem. My job is fantastic and rewarding beyond measure. Though if I were to try, I might choose to measure it in cups of coffee – the coffee a student from the DR brought me, the coffee that a student from Israel insists upon drinking at my house, the coffee that I shared each week with a student who grew up in France and is starting college in California this week.
Maybe I’ll save those measurement musings for next week. For now, I’ll ask you to pray for me as I make a difference. I want to live differently – to live better each day – and I need supernatural stamina from Jesus to make it happen. Please pray with me for good sleep and lots of energy as I return to school next week.
