I just started my first 9-5 job. I’m a teacher’s assistant
at a daycare around the corner from my house.
Yes I like kids and I enjoy watching them learn and grow,
but having sixteen in one classroom is much different than having one to four
in their home nannying or babysitting.
They all come from different backgrounds, they all are
disciplined differently. None of them listen well because they’re all barely
three. Most are potty-trained (only because I’m coming in on the tail-end of
the school year) and so far there’s been only one “accident” but it was in his
swimsuit so I don’t even count that one.
I have to be honest here, it’s been a rather overwhelming first week. Something inside
me feels like it has broken, and when I say broken, I don’t mean snapped. I mean
I feel broken. My heart maybe. I thought I’d go into this classroom and my old
love for children’s ministry would reignite and dancing and singing and
laughing would be all natural. I still love singing and dancing and arts with kids...but there's a lot more to working in a school than just that stuff. I don't get to just have fun with them.
It’s hard. The kids, can push every single button you have, and it’s funny
since I went in there with my chest poked out thinking I was Superman. They found
my buttons easily.
They ignore you. You have to repeat the same things over and
over to the same child over and over. When you think you’ve figured out a way
to communicate with them WHY they should stop, they change tactics. It’s rough.
Really rough. Being ignored sucks even when it’s by a three year old; rejection
is still rejection.
And my heart breaks. The part of me that likes to run from
anything hard (the part that normally wins most arguments within my head) is
roaring right now, wanting to fly FAR FAR away and go back into a weird coffee
shop with horrible hours because it’s what I know. But last night…last week….this
past year, the Lord has been telling me to chill. Stay put. He has me here and
I need to stay. STAY.
Last night I went to my church’s once-a-month worship
service. For about an hour on this one Wednesday a month we get together,
worship, receive prayer, and hear some good words from our pastor. Well, if you’ve
ever followed my blog you already know God and I are always on some sort of
rocky path. I can never seem to find the straight and narrow or maybe this is
my version of it. I go months without remembering how to pray and days without even
considering Him in my life. Just being really honest here, don’t go crucifying
me. Jesus is Lord of my life...but I'm a stubborn toot.
Anyway, it’s hard for me to connect with Jesus sometimes.
Especially this past year; it has been nearly impossible at times. But last
week at the beach I asked for Him to use me in a specific way for a specific
purpose which domino’d me into longing for Him in such a profound way that I
attempted prayer outside of my church community which then opened the door for
His coolness last night.
I sit down and close my eyes and open my mind and heart
which were flooded with anxiety and worry about this job. I can’t help but
wonder if I’ve made a mistake and if I should have kept looking.
He gives me this impression of how I behave with the kids in
class. I have to repeat the same things over and over to them. Sit still. Stay
seated. Don’t do that. Trust me that I know best. And on and on. And my heart bursts.
I hear Him say, “Trust. I’m always telling you to trust. I’m
always taking your sweet face just like you take theirs and looking you in the
eyes even as you turn yours from me and saying ‘Trust me! I know!’ “
How many times has He had to tell me to trust Him? How many
more times will He reiterate it? He shouldn’t have to. I shouldn’t have to at
school, but I do because I care. He does it because He loves me enough to keep
pressing forward.
Each step is “trust me.” Each new adventure whether it’s a
job or new passion to pursue, He’s always whispering to “trust me.” And I do,
for about five minutes until I think I know everything again and….back at
square one just like in the classroom.
My heart is still aching and I still the faces of the little
ones I’ve been correcting over and over again this week in hopes they won’t
hurt themselves or someone else just like God does with me…but He has way more
patience.
I don’t know why this hurts my heart so intensely, but it
does! I guess it’s because I’m experiencing the smallest amount of what the
Lord experiences and has experienced since the Beginning when it comes to human
nature..
Free Will, y’all. It can be a real you know what...
And to think I am about to start all over again in August
with different teachers. In a different classroom setting. New, YOUNGER children.
I don’t know how I’ll do it. I don’t know how God does it…how
His heart does it.
All I know is this, I am so glad I’m not God.
