I've spent the last two months deciding if I would continue teaching next year. There were pros and cons on both sides and I couldn't tell which side was weightier. Even though my mother insisted, repeatedly, that I should sit down and make a pros and cons list, doing so didn't seem to really help. The benefits and drawbacks of either decision seemed incapable of being captured in words to jot on one side of a t-chart. I couldn't go with my gut because it, too, was conflicted. In the end, I chose to stay and while I'm still uncertain if that was the correct decision, it was a decision and I finally made it. A part of me felt sadness to pass up a great service opportunity and another part feels concern that next year I will be climbing the walls of my classroom, wondering what momentary weakness caused me to sign another year of my life away. Despite these concerns, I am beginning to make plans about what this next year of life will look like. As a teacher, life stills comes about on a yearly schedule, broken neatly into semesters with lovely summer and winter breaks.
Last semester I was growing more and more convinced that I would love to not teach next year. It wasn't one thing in particular, but it was a bunch of things all wrapped up together. Yet after applying for and being offered (even if only temporarily) another job, the joys of teaching became clearer to me. The things that I would miss stood out in my mind and I didn't even want to think of telling my department head that I would be leaving or cleaning out my classroom. Yet I didn't want to stay just because I didn't want to do those things.
As frustrating and foolish as students can be at times, they can also be hilarious, witty, deep, encouraging, and beautiful souls. Yes, they complain, test my patience, seem incapable of following simple directions, make me question my own sanity, and relentlessly insist on moving the far row of desks next to the wall so they have a backrest. Yet at times we laugh together, we can reach a beautiful depth at times, we develop a relationship that is unlike any other relationship I have formed before--one of student and teacher. Over the past three years I've grown more comfortable with my students. Today I gave a test to my seniors and after they were finished, I couldn't help but look at them and feel pleased. We aren't best friends, but it is my class and we do have a unique dynamic.
I don't know how long I will teach for and how long I want to teach for depends on the day. In the midst of my crisis (the I-have-only-two-days-to-know-if-I-am-going-to-sign-my-contract-and-I-don't-know-what-I'm-doing crisis), I called my sister. She asked me questions that I didn't know how to answer about my personal desires and feeling peace.
"Answer this as quickly as you think of an answer," my sister told me. "If you could do anything, what would you do or be?"
Pause.
"A missionary."
Then she read me something. At first, I wasn't quite certain what she was reading me. After a little while, I realized she was reading me one of my very first blog entries. "Young," first-year teacher Trish was writing about how she was a missionary of the classroom and how even as she longed for greater missions, she was called to be a teacher and minister in the seeming mundane aspects of life. And that young teacher inspired me. As my sister read my writing, I felt inspired to truly take up the mission of being a teacher and to live it with a radical zeal that I had forgotten. At some point I had begun to resign myself to having a job rather than being a missionary.
So even in the midst of uncertainty, I am starting to look forward to another school year (of course, after my (I believe) well-deserved summer break) to be a missionary in a high school classroom. Because Christ instructed us to put out into the deep and I intend to cast my nets into the high school ocean. Because the harvest is abundant and the laborers are few. Because the Church needs the youth. Because Jesus says there is a millstone with my name on it if I fail to bring the little ones to Him. Because, for some unknown reason in God's inscrutable Will, I am called to teach.
Showing posts with label called. Show all posts
Showing posts with label called. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Making Excuses with Moses
Moses and I might as well be twins. Yes, I am aware of the historical, ethnic, and cultural difficulties associated with that type of relation, but it is very true. Moses and I both balk at what the Lord asks of us and then we make excuses. Not just one excuse that can be neatly answered, but multiple. And if we run out of excuses, we start re-using the old ones, just in case they appear any stronger after a period of neglect. I don't even need to alter much to make the excuses of Moses my own.
Granted Moses faced a bit more of a challenging task then I do. He was saved from infanticide, raised in Pharaoh's house, sent into exile after killing an Egyptian, and called by God from a burning bush to march his people (that he never really lived with) out of slavery and into a Promised Land. No big deal, right? I, on the other hand, am simply told to be the best teacher I can be, proclaim the truth without fear of the consequences, and become of a disciple for the Lord. When placed in that light, Moses had very good reason to throw up excuses while my position has a much weaker foundation for it.
Q: "Who am I that I should...?" (Ex. 3:11)
A: "But I will be with you..."
Q: "If...they ask me, 'What is his name?' what shall I say to them?"
A: "I AM who I AM."
Excuse: "But behold, they will not believe me or listen to my voice..." (Ex. 4: 1)
Reply: "Do not say, 'I am only a youth'; for to all to whom I send you you shall go, and whatever I command you you shall speak. Be not afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the Lord." (Jer. 1: 7-8)
Excuse: "Oh, my Lord, I am not eloquent..."
Reply: "Who has made man's mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak."
Final plea: "Oh, my Lord, send, I pray, some other person." (Ex 4: 13)
This final plea is sometimes what I find myself reduced to. Just send anyone but me, Lord. I think of others who are clearly more qualified for the job than me. I wonder how the Lord could make such a large mistake, could have overlooked their finer qualities and overlooked my giant deficiencies. This feeling of "Please, Lord, someone else!" isn't just with large missions, but is with lesser things. When there is gossip taking place and I feel uncomfortable, but I don't want to be the one to squelch it. If I see something that is wrong but wish I hadn't seen it so that I could simply be naïve.
When I was offered the teaching job I felt incredibly inadequate. I had just finished convincing people quite a bit older than me that I was the person they wanted for the job. Then I was offered the job and I had a more difficult time convincing myself that I was the person for the job. In fact, I began to compile a mental list of people that would be better at teaching than I would be. I thought of intelligent priests I knew, passionate young adults filled with both knowledge and fire, and young religious sisters who would be able to articulate the faith in an eloquent manner. Then I thought of my own abilities and talents. The list seemed to be woefully short. I hadn't lied to the interviewers...I had simply spoken with more confidence than I actually had. Who would hire someone who said, "I am pretty sure that I can do this job, I think. _________ and ___________ would be perfect for this job but they aren't available. At the very least, I think I could be a decent babysitter for high schoolers. Hire me. Please." That probably wouldn't be sufficient.
Instead of relying on my own incredible speaking abilities (which I don't have) or my limitless intellect (again, fictional), I was forced to rely on the Lord. Of course, I failed in that but I was forced to try more than if I was gifted with all that was required of me. I knew that I could not do the task properly on my own. However, I did know that the Lord could use me to do His will.
How did I know this?
Past experience, yes. Bible stories, yes. Witness of the saints, yes.
Abraham.
Moses.
David.
Our Lady.
Padre Pio.
St. Margaret Mary Alacoque.
St. Faustina.
It is not my job to tell the Lord that He has chosen the wrong person or that I am under-qualified. He already knows my gifts and He knows my weaknesses. I am convinced that often the Lord chooses people with major weaknesses so that it may be evident to the world that He is doing the work and it is not his/her own skill.
The requirement is a wholehearted yes. Or at least an openness to being used for God's will. It is saying, "Please, Lord, choose somebody more qualified" and then going to talk to Pharaoh anyway when the Lord tells you to. You are required to be uncertain of the future yet entirely certain of He who already knows the future. It is surrendering your weaknesses to the bridegroom on the altar of sacrifice and welcoming into yourself the bread of the angels, the strength from heaven, the necessary graces. It is allowing His to overflow in you and into those in your life. It is hands wide open, entrusting everything to Our Lord even when we don't know what that everything even is.
Moses and I both question the Lord and ask Him to choose someone else to do the hard work. Yet God is unrelenting.
He crafts our souls, breathes life into us, nourishes us, and then poses a question to us that is hard to refuse.
"Trish, I created you to reveal an aspect of Myself that nobody else can reveal. I have a plan for you, I have graces for you, I have a mission for you. Will you reveal Me to the world and be a part of salvation history?"
Whoa.
How can I refuse?
Granted Moses faced a bit more of a challenging task then I do. He was saved from infanticide, raised in Pharaoh's house, sent into exile after killing an Egyptian, and called by God from a burning bush to march his people (that he never really lived with) out of slavery and into a Promised Land. No big deal, right? I, on the other hand, am simply told to be the best teacher I can be, proclaim the truth without fear of the consequences, and become of a disciple for the Lord. When placed in that light, Moses had very good reason to throw up excuses while my position has a much weaker foundation for it.
Q: "Who am I that I should...?" (Ex. 3:11)
A: "But I will be with you..."
Q: "If...they ask me, 'What is his name?' what shall I say to them?"
A: "I AM who I AM."
Excuse: "But behold, they will not believe me or listen to my voice..." (Ex. 4: 1)
Reply: "Do not say, 'I am only a youth'; for to all to whom I send you you shall go, and whatever I command you you shall speak. Be not afraid of them, for I am with you to deliver you, says the Lord." (Jer. 1: 7-8)
Excuse: "Oh, my Lord, I am not eloquent..."
Reply: "Who has made man's mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak."
Final plea: "Oh, my Lord, send, I pray, some other person." (Ex 4: 13)
This final plea is sometimes what I find myself reduced to. Just send anyone but me, Lord. I think of others who are clearly more qualified for the job than me. I wonder how the Lord could make such a large mistake, could have overlooked their finer qualities and overlooked my giant deficiencies. This feeling of "Please, Lord, someone else!" isn't just with large missions, but is with lesser things. When there is gossip taking place and I feel uncomfortable, but I don't want to be the one to squelch it. If I see something that is wrong but wish I hadn't seen it so that I could simply be naïve.
When I was offered the teaching job I felt incredibly inadequate. I had just finished convincing people quite a bit older than me that I was the person they wanted for the job. Then I was offered the job and I had a more difficult time convincing myself that I was the person for the job. In fact, I began to compile a mental list of people that would be better at teaching than I would be. I thought of intelligent priests I knew, passionate young adults filled with both knowledge and fire, and young religious sisters who would be able to articulate the faith in an eloquent manner. Then I thought of my own abilities and talents. The list seemed to be woefully short. I hadn't lied to the interviewers...I had simply spoken with more confidence than I actually had. Who would hire someone who said, "I am pretty sure that I can do this job, I think. _________ and ___________ would be perfect for this job but they aren't available. At the very least, I think I could be a decent babysitter for high schoolers. Hire me. Please." That probably wouldn't be sufficient.
Instead of relying on my own incredible speaking abilities (which I don't have) or my limitless intellect (again, fictional), I was forced to rely on the Lord. Of course, I failed in that but I was forced to try more than if I was gifted with all that was required of me. I knew that I could not do the task properly on my own. However, I did know that the Lord could use me to do His will.
How did I know this?
Past experience, yes. Bible stories, yes. Witness of the saints, yes.
Abraham.
Moses.
David.
Our Lady.
Padre Pio.
St. Margaret Mary Alacoque.
St. Faustina.
It is not my job to tell the Lord that He has chosen the wrong person or that I am under-qualified. He already knows my gifts and He knows my weaknesses. I am convinced that often the Lord chooses people with major weaknesses so that it may be evident to the world that He is doing the work and it is not his/her own skill.
The requirement is a wholehearted yes. Or at least an openness to being used for God's will. It is saying, "Please, Lord, choose somebody more qualified" and then going to talk to Pharaoh anyway when the Lord tells you to. You are required to be uncertain of the future yet entirely certain of He who already knows the future. It is surrendering your weaknesses to the bridegroom on the altar of sacrifice and welcoming into yourself the bread of the angels, the strength from heaven, the necessary graces. It is allowing His to overflow in you and into those in your life. It is hands wide open, entrusting everything to Our Lord even when we don't know what that everything even is.
Moses and I both question the Lord and ask Him to choose someone else to do the hard work. Yet God is unrelenting.
He crafts our souls, breathes life into us, nourishes us, and then poses a question to us that is hard to refuse.
"Trish, I created you to reveal an aspect of Myself that nobody else can reveal. I have a plan for you, I have graces for you, I have a mission for you. Will you reveal Me to the world and be a part of salvation history?"
Whoa.
How can I refuse?
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