Return and Let Go

I used to teach. I cried buckets of tears when I left. I didn't want to, but I could not see another alternative. Apparently, I haven't cried enough. I returned to my old school yesterday and today (well, my old new school--same school, new building) to watch the annual spring programs. I had been thinking about it for a couple of months, deliberating, wondering why I was thinking of going, afraid that I was going to be interfering again like the last time I stopped by, afraid to face parents, students, and administrators. But, in the end I went anyway. And it was HARD!!! HARD!!! HARD!!! I could tell immediately when I put the protective wall up around me and I couldn't seem to break it down. I was guarded and unsure how to act. But, I saw something in three teachers that I worked with, something that I needed to see--the pure joy of teaching, the pure joy of students. And I came home and had a really good cry/sob session and let out some hurt, hurt that I didn't think still existed.

I am grateful that I can see examples of the joy in teaching that remind me of why I committed to teaching in the first place. I am grateful for the support I have received from parents, former colleagues, and most definitely former students, especially when I struggle so much believing in myself.

Simply Hard

Praying and reading scriptures is not the most daunting task I've ever done in my life. I can read well, I understand reasonably well what I read and have plenty of resources to help me with what I don't understand, and I have no physical ailments to keep me from getting on my knees. It's that simple, and yet, for me right now, it's simply hard because I am once again trying to make prayer and scripture study a daily or double daily (morning and night) habit. But, not just a habit, a necessary part of my life. Until I reach that point where I want to read and pray every day, it is simply hard. I am also trying not to let the thoughts of "it's only until you get out of the habit again" stay with me and discourage me. I do remember (as much as I can) what it feels like to have the blessing and power that comes from having daily and meaningful talks with God and reading His words. I love the truths of His gospel. So, I'm off to make simply hard, simply natural.

I am grateful for the chance to try again, and again, and again.

Faith to Push Forward

My Sunday primary class has doubled in size the past month. The 7-year-old class was split into two classes at the beginning of the year, but the other teacher moved without very little notice and I agreed to take her class until they called a new teacher. Well, after having them for three weeks, I decided I wanted to keep them. The very next week we had the worst lesson of the year--little focus, lots of giggling, making faces, no spirit, you name it. I felt glum. It was my week for playing the organ in sacrament meeting (the main meeting for families on the Sabbath where we take the sacrament and listen to speakers). I play postlude and therefore get to class after the children, so it's always a bit tough making it work, but last week nothing seemed to work. So, I spent all week kind of mulling ideas and worrying. Today, I just had to go for it. I've still got to come up with a plan for the week I play the organ (still deciding), but for now I make sure I get to the room early enough to get chairs set up right and have the first class member stand at the door showing reverance. I'd have the children set up chairs, but I've noticed that with such a big class they struggle doing it on their own. Anyway, I axed the "share one thing you did this week" at the beginning and went right into a song and prayer. We restarted the song several times because I expected one of the boys to give reverent attention and he wasn't. He got the picture quite well. Then, I made sure to involve every class member in telling the stories we shared that showed how Heavenly Father answers our prayers in the best way, which was our lesson. Man, what a difference a week makes. I listened to my own inspiration (which said it would be okay to do away with the sharing part at the beginning) and to some suggestions from my sister. I was delighted to see that the class seemed to desire reverence. They really responded to the spirit.

I am so grateful for inspiration which comes from the Holy Ghost, the scriptures, and others. I am also grateful for the blessing of taking part in the Spirit of our Heavenly Father with my class.