Yep, story of my life . . . I'm running late! I did wake up before my alarm this morning, but I've piddled around (and am moving slow), so I'm about half an hour later than I wanted to be sitting down to write this "first day" post. So it's gonna be short, because I've got kids to wake up and wrangle.
Last week - full of professional development workshops, meetings, and workdays - I found myself succumbing to a fierce level of discouragment, negativity, and selfishness. I didn't want to be at school; I was griping and complaining about little things (really, THAT'S the best parking place I get after 17 years?!?); and although it was great to see my teacher friends, I could not even find a peace about celebrating where I was and who I was with. Over the weekend, I had an all-day board meeting for Destination Imagination which meant I missed all three of the soccer games played by my three younger children (including watching them score a total of five goals!), then a birthday party for my youngest, church, and a 6-hour stint of working in my classroom yesterday to finish getting things ready. So, no down time; no "me" time.
Whew. If I had time, I'd be getting really stressed out - ha! Seriously, I am not going to lie and say that all of a sudden, I had an overnight transformation to Pollyanna and now I am SO happy to be up before 6 AM getting ready for school and facing another school year. I am excited and a little nervous, but honestly I'm still battling some discouragement. I feel like my hard work for 17 years is not recognized or appreciated. I am already tired thinking about 60-hour work weeks. Like one of my new (although I've taught with her before, this is her first year at Bob Jones) colleagues said last week when she introduced herself and listed all the jobs she had prior to teaching, "Teaching is the most family un-friendly job I've ever had." And it's true. If you give your students what they need and keep up with the tasks the administration expects you to, there is no way you can work just a 40-hour week. Summers are wonderful, and having these last weeks off is truly the only way I could have made it 17 years!
So, I'm praying hard this morning, looking to the Word for strength, and trying to look up and around rather than inside. Sometimes it's not just "one day at a time," it's one minute, one hour at a time. I barely have my syllabus written, much less lesson plans. I'm teaching a new, challenging AP class that I'm honestly terrified about, even though I know I will love it. Basically, I'm at the end of me even here at the beginning, and I'm thankful because that is a good place to be. Now, it's off to school . . . !!
Monday, August 20, 2012
Monday, August 13, 2012
Eagle's Wings
My favorite scripture passage for many years (since college) has been Isaiah 40:27-31. I like The Message's paraphrase of verse 41: "But those who wait upon
God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles,
they run and don't get tired, they walk and don't lag behind." The passage probably reaches out and grabs me because I'm such a "do-er"; I often struggle with fatigue (my husband tells me there is a cure for that and it starts with N-O...). I am a permanent member of the "20% of the people in an organization do 80% of the work" club. When something needs to be done, I just do it.
Now, let me be clear. I am not going to tie this post to the Nike slogan. I am NOT a runner . . . ! There were a few years in my late teens/early twenties during which I attempted to run a few miles here and there. Key words: "attempted," "here and there." However, I am definitely always on the go - both physically and mentally. Mr. Lorenzo, a wonderful custodian at my previous school and a precious friend, would see me power-walking down the school hallway and smile his sweet smile and say "Ms. Dauma, slow down now! You'll get there just as fast by going slow." Now, this of course did not make a bit of sense to me. Of course I'd get to my destination faster by walking faster! And I probably did. But I was tired. And I still am much of the time. So, what's the cure for chronic tiredness? Sleep? Walking slowly down the hallways? Good vitamins? Saying "no" to those who ask things of me? Probably a little bit of all of these should be a part of all of our lives, but how then does a "doer" manage his or her tendency to constantly be "doing"? God gives us innate personalities, energy levels, interests, and passions . . . and life stages certainly require at least some degree of busy-ness. So what's the solution? How do we soar like eagles and not lag behind?
I wish I knew the answer to this on a "make a list and check it off" kind of level. However, I do know that the times that I've felt my wings spreading have been when I've felt the most inadequate to fly. The times when the strength to grade five more essays as the clock approaches midnight seems to float down upon my shoulders. The times when the last thing I want to do is stop at Kroger at 5:30 PM traffic, but I know we need milk (or cereal, or eggs . . . hmmm, I should probably grab some paper and make a grocery list for tomorrow...) and - amazingly! - the self-checkout line is open with no waiting and the kids actually made it through the store without screaming. I cannot explain that kind of strength, that kind of soaring. I have a bit of a fear of heights, so I do not have any desire to take part in anything like skydiving or parasailing. But those who have done it say that the feeling of soaring through the air is indescribable. And in a metaphorical sense, I understand what they mean.
Today was the first day of school for the 2012-2013 school year. Thankfully, it was a teacher workday, so we got to ease back into the routine by having a day to set up and organize our classrooms. But nonetheless, this day is always hard. Being away from my family for 9.5 hours after being with them so much during the summer, eating lunch at my desk, walking down the hall to use a utilitarian school restroom . . . none of those things are fun, exciting, or comfortable. However, as I was unpacking boxes and listening to a little Elvis (of course), the first words of "Lead Me, Guide Me," reminded me of my position: "I am tired and I need Thy strength and power." Thy. Such an archaic word that holds so much meaning. Not me, my, mine. THY. His strength. The strength that hung the planets in space and holds them there. The strength that breathed life into man (and woman). The strength that endured the cruelest of undeserved deaths. A strength I cannot even begin to comprehend is dispersed to me, someone who finds it hard to relax and say "no" to anyone. Someone who has made some stupid financial decisions that have led to too much debt. Someone who loves the approval of others, loves to win, and loves to feel important and needed. Yep, that's me! And all those things plus four children = tired mom/wife/daughter/sister/teacher. The only way it even begins to work is through Jesus and the truth of God's provision in my life. His strength is enough. His grace is enough. Even when I lag behind and parents are emailing to complain that I've taken too long to grade assignments. Even when my kids eat ramen noodles three nights in a row. Even when I get too little sleep or "down time." Especially then.
I could wax eloquently (or semi-eloquently) here about the majesty of eagles. My mom can do a better job of that than I can - she loves her some eagles! However, I really feel that I am not an eagle at all. The simile hinges on that little word "like." English teacher moment: a simile is a comparison of two UNLIKE things. I really cannot become an eagle (thank goodness, because they are waaayyy up there...!). I really should not try to become an eagle. God can, however, give me strength LIKE the eagle's and for that I am - at the end of my eighteenth first-day-of-school-as-a-teacher - so grateful.
Now, let me be clear. I am not going to tie this post to the Nike slogan. I am NOT a runner . . . ! There were a few years in my late teens/early twenties during which I attempted to run a few miles here and there. Key words: "attempted," "here and there." However, I am definitely always on the go - both physically and mentally. Mr. Lorenzo, a wonderful custodian at my previous school and a precious friend, would see me power-walking down the school hallway and smile his sweet smile and say "Ms. Dauma, slow down now! You'll get there just as fast by going slow." Now, this of course did not make a bit of sense to me. Of course I'd get to my destination faster by walking faster! And I probably did. But I was tired. And I still am much of the time. So, what's the cure for chronic tiredness? Sleep? Walking slowly down the hallways? Good vitamins? Saying "no" to those who ask things of me? Probably a little bit of all of these should be a part of all of our lives, but how then does a "doer" manage his or her tendency to constantly be "doing"? God gives us innate personalities, energy levels, interests, and passions . . . and life stages certainly require at least some degree of busy-ness. So what's the solution? How do we soar like eagles and not lag behind?
I wish I knew the answer to this on a "make a list and check it off" kind of level. However, I do know that the times that I've felt my wings spreading have been when I've felt the most inadequate to fly. The times when the strength to grade five more essays as the clock approaches midnight seems to float down upon my shoulders. The times when the last thing I want to do is stop at Kroger at 5:30 PM traffic, but I know we need milk (or cereal, or eggs . . . hmmm, I should probably grab some paper and make a grocery list for tomorrow...) and - amazingly! - the self-checkout line is open with no waiting and the kids actually made it through the store without screaming. I cannot explain that kind of strength, that kind of soaring. I have a bit of a fear of heights, so I do not have any desire to take part in anything like skydiving or parasailing. But those who have done it say that the feeling of soaring through the air is indescribable. And in a metaphorical sense, I understand what they mean.
Today was the first day of school for the 2012-2013 school year. Thankfully, it was a teacher workday, so we got to ease back into the routine by having a day to set up and organize our classrooms. But nonetheless, this day is always hard. Being away from my family for 9.5 hours after being with them so much during the summer, eating lunch at my desk, walking down the hall to use a utilitarian school restroom . . . none of those things are fun, exciting, or comfortable. However, as I was unpacking boxes and listening to a little Elvis (of course), the first words of "Lead Me, Guide Me," reminded me of my position: "I am tired and I need Thy strength and power." Thy. Such an archaic word that holds so much meaning. Not me, my, mine. THY. His strength. The strength that hung the planets in space and holds them there. The strength that breathed life into man (and woman). The strength that endured the cruelest of undeserved deaths. A strength I cannot even begin to comprehend is dispersed to me, someone who finds it hard to relax and say "no" to anyone. Someone who has made some stupid financial decisions that have led to too much debt. Someone who loves the approval of others, loves to win, and loves to feel important and needed. Yep, that's me! And all those things plus four children = tired mom/wife/daughter/sister/teacher. The only way it even begins to work is through Jesus and the truth of God's provision in my life. His strength is enough. His grace is enough. Even when I lag behind and parents are emailing to complain that I've taken too long to grade assignments. Even when my kids eat ramen noodles three nights in a row. Even when I get too little sleep or "down time." Especially then.
I could wax eloquently (or semi-eloquently) here about the majesty of eagles. My mom can do a better job of that than I can - she loves her some eagles! However, I really feel that I am not an eagle at all. The simile hinges on that little word "like." English teacher moment: a simile is a comparison of two UNLIKE things. I really cannot become an eagle (thank goodness, because they are waaayyy up there...!). I really should not try to become an eagle. God can, however, give me strength LIKE the eagle's and for that I am - at the end of my eighteenth first-day-of-school-as-a-teacher - so grateful.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Endings and Beginnings
Today is the last day of summer for me, so I decided that an ending day would also be a great beginning day for a new blog that I've been considering. I have no idea if anyone but me, myself, and I will read my musings, but I feel led to do this, even if just as a creative and expressive outlet. Many who know me - especially the hundreds of students I've taught since 1995! - will know that "blue apples" are metaphors for risks . . . to "bite a blue apple" means to try something new or get out of your comfort zone. While I have had a family blog before, this is truly a blue apple moment for me as I try my hand at "real" writing for public view.
Entering my eighteenth year as a public school teacher, I always have mixed feelings at this time of year. Summer is such a sweet, laid-back time for me and my family, yet it is hard to deny the adrenaline rush and excitement I always feel as the first day of school draws close. Truly bittersweet. This year I will also be moving my oldest to college, which adds a whole other dimension to my emotions . . . she is SO excited, so mostly I am going with that feeling as well, but there have also been many misty-eyed moments since May when she graduated from high school.
God has been gracious to grant me a peace about working outside the home and a love for my job - and I am so incredibly grateful for His provision in that. Part of my reason for starting this blog, though, is that I have found in the "blogosphere" that there are an immense (and I do mean HUGE) number of blogs and web sites to support SAHMs, especially those who homeschool, but not very many out there for Christian moms who work outside the home (CMWWOTH . . . haha, not a very good acronym . . . gotta come up with something new . . .!). I believe that there has been too much division in the church because of this issue and I have to admit that makes me somewhat sad. I have many SAHM friends, including one of my own wonderful sisters, who homeschools her five children, ages 1-11. She is amazing and I love her and fully support her decision and love to hear her stories about how she does what she does every day, which I believe is miraculous! However, I also know and love many wonderful mothers who work outside the home - either out of necessity or choice. These women love Jesus, their children, and their husbands (those who are married). They really do!
I am not exactly sure where this blog will take me or anyone who cares to read it, but I hope that somewhere along the way I'm able to encourage someone and perhaps help build some bridges over what sometimes seems like a huge chasm between SAHMs and working moms. We are all moms who work! We all want to deepen and strengthen our walk with the Lord and to minister to our families! There are certainly many Christians who do not (outwardly, at least) criticize working moms and SO many of my friends have supported, encouraged, and offered logistical help to me over the years, so I do not at all mean this to sound like I'm some sort of victim! However, I have found myself nursing a few wounds - sometimes self-inflicted, sometimes inflicted by well-meaning "others" - over the last eighteen years . . . wounds I never believe God intended me to have, and I want to rip off the bandages and show the scars. They are faded and are part of the fabric of my life and I have faith that God can use each and every scar we bear for His glory and fame and this is my prayer today, the last day of summer.
Entering my eighteenth year as a public school teacher, I always have mixed feelings at this time of year. Summer is such a sweet, laid-back time for me and my family, yet it is hard to deny the adrenaline rush and excitement I always feel as the first day of school draws close. Truly bittersweet. This year I will also be moving my oldest to college, which adds a whole other dimension to my emotions . . . she is SO excited, so mostly I am going with that feeling as well, but there have also been many misty-eyed moments since May when she graduated from high school.
God has been gracious to grant me a peace about working outside the home and a love for my job - and I am so incredibly grateful for His provision in that. Part of my reason for starting this blog, though, is that I have found in the "blogosphere" that there are an immense (and I do mean HUGE) number of blogs and web sites to support SAHMs, especially those who homeschool, but not very many out there for Christian moms who work outside the home (CMWWOTH . . . haha, not a very good acronym . . . gotta come up with something new . . .!). I believe that there has been too much division in the church because of this issue and I have to admit that makes me somewhat sad. I have many SAHM friends, including one of my own wonderful sisters, who homeschools her five children, ages 1-11. She is amazing and I love her and fully support her decision and love to hear her stories about how she does what she does every day, which I believe is miraculous! However, I also know and love many wonderful mothers who work outside the home - either out of necessity or choice. These women love Jesus, their children, and their husbands (those who are married). They really do!
I am not exactly sure where this blog will take me or anyone who cares to read it, but I hope that somewhere along the way I'm able to encourage someone and perhaps help build some bridges over what sometimes seems like a huge chasm between SAHMs and working moms. We are all moms who work! We all want to deepen and strengthen our walk with the Lord and to minister to our families! There are certainly many Christians who do not (outwardly, at least) criticize working moms and SO many of my friends have supported, encouraged, and offered logistical help to me over the years, so I do not at all mean this to sound like I'm some sort of victim! However, I have found myself nursing a few wounds - sometimes self-inflicted, sometimes inflicted by well-meaning "others" - over the last eighteen years . . . wounds I never believe God intended me to have, and I want to rip off the bandages and show the scars. They are faded and are part of the fabric of my life and I have faith that God can use each and every scar we bear for His glory and fame and this is my prayer today, the last day of summer.
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