Testing....1, 2, 3....

Teachers have feelings.  Perhaps that shouldn't be a surprise, but it wasn't until I was a teacher (which began a whole 3ish months ago) that I realized how true that is.  Teachers have feelings.  Teachers do notice when that student is being disrespectful in the most annoyingly non-verbal way possible.  They do feel the slight when the student will hardly look at them for some unknown reason or slight.  And teachers do feel the greatness of the small compliments from students. 

Yesterday I gave a test to my seniors.  The overall feeling emanating from them was one of complete dissatisfaction and annoyance.  Well, perhaps not complete, but it was highly prevalent.  What was even more mystifying was how when I was creating this test I was intentionally trying to be as easy as I could possibly bring myself to be, which granted isn't perhaps easy but I did feel as though I was giving them a helping hand.  Yes, I made the test a bit too long, but I gave them a word bank with only the words for the questions and all the words were used only once.  I thought I was going to feel so good grading a lot of wonderful tests and watching their slightly sagging grades be buoyed up by the test.  Yes...my high idealistic tendencies were quickly deflated as I watch a student look through his test and repeatedly shake his head at the test.  It was then at 8:25 am that I realized that perhaps this test wasn't quite the piece of cake I envisioned it to be.  Nevertheless, I read through the test again and was reassured of my goodness.  This class doesn't particularly like me so I can chalk it up to the fact that whatever I do will be ridiculous to them. 

By the time the final class of the day rolled around, the students had heard of the "impossible" test that I had given and how "nobody finished" before the bell.  So as my 8th period students muddled through the test, I began to type an e-mail to a fellow teacher to ask her what to do when I think I made my test too difficult.  As I was thinking of how to describe the situation after the bell rang and students were still finishing their test, a student turned in his test and quietly said, "I didn't think it was that hard."  It was my saving grace for the moment.  It reaffirmed my convictions that I wasn't being ridiculous.  And I wished that I could give him a hug or tell him just how much that meant to me at that particular moment.  Instead all I said was, "Oh?  Good." 

I know that my happiness and sadness cannot rest on the students or ride on what they think of me or what the hormones racing through their bodies are influencing them to do.  But I am realizing that just because I became a teacher doesn't mean that I am magically transformed into an adult who can handle adolescent attitude with ease or knows how to pen perfect length tests.  Too often I am convinced that when I get to a certain point I will be radically different than I am now, that I will have it all together.  As a middle schooler I thought that would happen in high school.  In high school, I was convinced I would become the person I dreamed of being in college.  And, well, now I suppose I fall into the idea that as soon as I meet Mr. Wonderful and we fall in love and are married and have nine children and one on the way that then I will be exactly the person I am to be.  The truth is that I am constantly being transformed and being made into the person I need to be.  We are all works in progress.  But my idealistic view of myself may never really come into being because perhaps that creation of my imagination is not the person that God even desires to exist.  What a pity it would be to spend all of my time racing after an image that is created in my own mind and not striving to become the person of God's own design.

So their test, by their standards, was long and hard, an impossible task that couldn't be completed and one they didn't really want to.  Perhaps that is a bit like life.  At times life seems to be a journey that is impossible to do correctly and one that seems to provide more challenges than seems right.  Yet maybe if we strove to not be so focused on the present crisis that seems to be making our world collapse and more on the overall picture of what God is doing in our lives, than we would be able to face our difficulties with the knowledge that just over the hill is rest, that on the journey we are strengthened with grace. 

Now that I think about it, my test wasn't so similar to life.  Because with life we have the tremendous benefit of having an Omniscient God who loves us entirely, knows exactly what we need, and provides us inestimable aid along the way.  So perhaps this imperfect little teacher made a mistake.  The good news is that the Divine Teacher never does.

being balanced

As I was going to spend some time with friends from high school that I don't see often, the Lord seemed to place a prayer on my lips of which I didn't realize the depth until I had spoken it aloud in the car. 

"Lord, help me not to compromise myself simply to fit in.  Yet help me not emphasize my differences so as to stand out."

Letting one's light shine is a balancing act in itself.  I don't want it to be a mere flicker that will die out soon, yet I don't want it to be a spotlight that seeks to highlight everyone's faults.  I'm seeking for balance without falling into mediocrity.

I'm in love...

I am in love with the most beautiful and brilliant person.  He loves me beyond my deserving and pursues my heart with all the tenderness of a Lover.  In the morning He graces me with a glorious sunrise and in the evening He makes the western skies so filled with vivid colors that I am in danger of running into the car in front of me on my way to Mass.  Then He embraces me in the warmth of the adoration chapel, whispering to my heart about the joys of being a member of the living Church, the Body of Christ.  He stills my mind with its many worries and concerns, drawing me into His very heart.  Then He lays down His life for me and offers me the best He has to offer, His very self.  My Love proceeds to sit with me, knowing that quality time is the way to love me best.  He has all of the time in the world for me.  In fact, He has beyond time--He has a timeless love that He strives to impart to me.  Soothing my fretting heart, consoling my desirous heart, wrapping me in His mantle of palpable divine love, He makes me long for forever with Him.  And Lover that He is, He stitches stars into the night sky for me to admire on my drive home.  I am in love with the most beautiful and brilliant person ever.  He has written His name on my heart--and it is Love.

Beyond Grades

Teaching is an interesting profession.  What I do is primarily judged by test and quiz scores and the single letter marked down on the transcripts of my students.  People come in to my classroom to observe me and see how well I teach.  But the interesting thing is that the heart of what I do, the depth of the relationship I have with some of my classes is witnessed only by myself.  When that observer enters the room, the mood changes and it is no longer the relationship that has been steadily forming.  That single letter inscribed on a transcript is not observant of the laughter that has been shared, the hours spent together, the prayers uttered to God on their behalf.  I do not teach perfectly and I do not know all of my students very well.  Yet there is this delightful feeling when I remember laughing with my classes even if I cannot remember what we were laughing about.  Maybe they forget far quicker than I do but I am still repeatedly amazed about what people refer to as my "job".  I get to see over one hundred students every day and try to give to them part of the love that I have for the Lord.  And every day I mess up, yet every day is a new day to try again.  Nobody but the Lord can really see what I do or judge how effectively I do it.  Because I like to think that I am revealing to them something that I cannot test them on.  I prefer to think that the joy we share (at times) in the classroom is indicative of something deeper.  And I pray that someday I will be blessed enough to see the fruit of my labors, even if that day only comes in Heaven.

Entering the Mission Field

I never realized how controversial the simple truth could be until I stepped foot into my classroom.  Prior to this I knew in theory that some truths people didn't like but I was awakened to a whole new realm of this in one of my classes.  The truth is offensive.  I told my students that the Catholic Church had the fullness of the Truth and I didn't expect the firestorm that would follow.  It wasn't always a verbal defense that they provided but I could tell that they were mad at me or mad at the Church.  And I'm not certain if I ever really solved the problem.  Because I am realizing more fully that I cannot make anyone believe.  If only I could pray them into accepting the truth.  Yet all I can do is pray for them and strive to present the Truth in the best possible way.  I find myself desiring to protect the Church against any assaults they might hurl at Her.  In the midst of the moment I forget that the Church can defend Herself adequately and I need have no concerns about Her being found lacking.  I look at their lack of love for the Church and I am bewildered.  It takes a while for me to remind myself that I did not always harbor this love for the Church that I do now. 

I desired a mission and the Lord has placed me in the missionary field of a classroom in a Catholic high school.  My idealistic view of teaching is not completely gone, although the past couple months has tempered it.  How do I give the love I have to them?  How do I take their skepticism and help it become belief?  It is not because of me that any of their hearts will be converted.  I am convinced of this.  My beautiful lessons seem to be less than impressive to them.  The very things that fill me with joy can put them to sleep.  Despite the resistance that some of them put up to the Church, to the Truth, to me, I know that these hours that they spend in my classroom will impact them in some way unforseen to anyone.  Initially, I was glad to see them write the correct answers on the paper, knowing that even if they didn't believe the answer they had to memorize it for the test.  Now, I want much more from them.  I find myself desiring rebuttal rather than the perfectly formulated answer that they could care less about.  I want them to care deeply one way or the other.  In some ways it is hard to rouse this generation to action or to convince them to be totally committed to something even though in their core that is what they desire.  But then again my own heart is so slow to be awakened and called to action.

How the heart of Our Lord must ache for us, His beloved ones!  My desire for them to accept the truth is not as firmly rooted as is the Lord's desire for them to become what they are called to be.  My love for them wavers and changes based on the day.  But the Lord's love remains firm and unyielding.  I pray to have His heart for them so that I may love them as I ought.  How far I have to go.  Where I see battle lines to be drawn, Our Lord sees lost sheep to find and craddle in His arms.  Where I see rebellion, Our Lord sees the pain and hurt that they have experienced.  Teaching one of my classes about David I was struck again by the call to be a woman after God's own heart.  I am called to become more and more like God and by doing so to become the saint that He desires me to be, that He needs me to be.  Because only a saint can fulfill the call that the Lord has placed upon my heart, upon the heart of each person.

While my title may be "teacher" I am striving to embrace more fully the title of "missionary" so that I may remember that every place needs to be evangelized and that this is not my home.  For now, my mission field is the classroom and my students are the ones who need to hear the Gospel proclaimed to them.  Regardless of how small or large the task appears to me, I must remember that because the Lord wills this of me in this present moment, this task is the most important thing for me.  This is my mission, this is my street, this is my life.

"Do not be afraid to go out onto the streets and into public places like the first apostles who preached Christ and the Good News of salvation in the squares of cities, towns, and villages." 

Bl. Pope John Paul II (WYD 1993)

Desiring His Heart

      Life is never quite what one expects it would be.  Although as I write that I wonder quite quickly what I expected life would be like.  And then I am at a loss.  Despite that, I am beginning to understand what life should be like.  It is supposed to be continual journey...a gradual meandering closer and closer to the heart of the One who loves me best. 

"O God You are my God, for You I long, for You my soul is thirsting, my body pines for You..." 

 I seek after the One who has already found me. 

      The Lord has placed me as a high school teacher and it is in this profession that I need to find Him in others.  It is in this new position as a teacher that I have developed a deeper love for Jesus as the Good Teacher.  It is also as a teacher that I have been reminded of how much growing I have to do for both my sake and for the sake of my students.  While my heart is yearning for adventure and a great task, I am striving to seek after the heart of the Lord in the role that He has now placed me.  Maybe I will discover, as many saints have said, that true greatness lies in the little things, that faithfulness, not success, is what Our Lord truly desires from us.