Atlas definitely had it rough for a Titan. As the myths go, this guy chose to fight with his dad Cronus, and Zeus punished him for all eternity by forcing him to keep the planets from colliding and rotating correctly. We all know the cliche--this guy has the world on his shoulders.
It doesn't take long once school gets going for me to feel the same. I am constantly struggling to maintain that elusive work/home life balance, and more often than not, something is way off. Sometimes my students "suffer" by waiting a long time for papers, or by getting what I consider to be a mediocre lesson that could have been significantly better with more planning and inspiration. Sometimes my own kids "suffer" in that I use up most of my patience on other people's kids and am left with very little for them. Other times I have to work--grading papers, making lesson plans, answering emails or dealing with issues as department chair--and my kids have to take a back seat and wait around or keep themselves busy when they really need something from me. My husband would say he suffers no matter what, but if my patience is short with the kids....well, you get the picture.
I know my issues with balance are not unique. Some say this is a "stage of life" issue, and maybe they're right. But as my principal reminded us today, we only go around once. Unlike Atlas, we're not bound to this life for eternity. This is the only chance we get to do things here, and as a Type I diabetic at age 40, I am increasingly aware that every day is a gift.
This week we have parent-teacher conferences, so the balances will be firmly in the work category. But my job is a God-given gift. I may not being doing it to the best of my ability if it were my only focus, but right now I can assure you that I am doing the best that I know how. My children are both truly miraculous answers to prayer. We have screwed up as parents in so many ways, but both of them know that our love for them is greater than anything else outside of God and each other. My life is most certainly lacking balance. But as Paul tells the Philippians in chapter 4, verse 11b: " I have learned in whatever situation, I am to be content." Not content with mediocrity, chaos or ignoring the people around us, but content in the peace that only comes from Christ and the understanding that He is in control, not me. That imbalance of power--all Him, not me--that's the kind of balance I need.
As a teacher, I have often learned that throughout the course of a unit or lesson, I learn more than the students. Sometimes I develop a deeper understanding of the content than ever before. Sometimes I learn more about my students. Sometimes I learn something entirely new. There's a saying along those lines that you don't really learn a concept until you teach it, and I have found that to be true over and over again throughout my 18 years in the classroom.
But this lesson has been highlighted for me again and again as a Sunday school teacher too. The lesson today was from I Samuel 14. Jonathan, the king of Israel's son, decides to test God and do what he can to help his dad's army defeat the Philistines. He asks his young armor-bearer to go with him. The armor-bearer knew that going with Jonathan would probably mean death, but he chose to go anyway. Jonathan knew moving into enemy territory probably meant death, but he knew God was more powerful than the gigantic army he was facing. The message of the lesson today was loyalty. One of the ways we show loyalty, the curriculum suggested, was through keeping our commitments and standing by them when things get rough. I am not very loyal. There have been times in my life when I haven't followed through on something I said I would do because I was busy. Tired. Overextended. Just didn't want to do it. It is easy for me to make excuses.
My husband is the opposite. His fatal flaw, were he a Greek hero, would be his loyalty to others and his commitments at all costs. I wish I could say his loyalty and my lack thereof haven't been the fodder for disagreements in our marriage. I wish I could say I haven't resented the times he insisted on honoring commitments when I would rather have bailed out. What I can say is that I have been very wrong on those occasions; my arrogance, pride, and selfishness have been in the way.
I'm not sure what
the kids took away from today, but if they got that God honors loyalty,
I'll be happy. Loyalty isn't easy. Keeping your word can become
excruciating. Or just plain inconvenient. It's not easy to be an armor
bearer, following your leader even when the cost seems unbearably high.
I'm glad my children have such an example in their dad, and I am so
incredibly grateful that my heavenly Father continues to show me grace
and prod me with examples of what I need to become.
Today has been a full day of baby giggles, flag football, crazy extended family members (that's you Linda), and time spent together just the four of us. Tonight, Brian has the sheet hanging down from our deck for us to create our own "drive-in" movie theater. I'm supposed to be popping some popcorn right now. All in all, a great, busy Saturday.
When I started this blog, my purpose in part was for my own accountability to be more intentional about building foundations that will last in the things I do every day. I don't know exactly how successful I am with that yet, but if nothing else, writing each day is a great reminder of the ridiculous generosity of my heavenly Father. Blessed doesn't even begin to cover it.
Tonight Julie and I are spending some time living, not just writing about it. Check her blog out to see the exciting things she's up to, but tonight and tomorrow, we're hanging out with this little one:
Zane wants to get her to laugh, Brian and I are hoping for some baby snuggles (and sleep) and Gabe can't wait to trade serburts. Friday couldn't get much better at this point.
We talk to our kids. A lot. I assume all parents do. We talk about their day at school, how activities, went, all that stuff. Now don't get me wrong, most of the time when I ask how school was, I get the one word answers you would expect: "Good." "Fine." "Ok." sometimes even "Great!" from my second grader. But I don't leave it at that. I have a series of questions I ask casually throughout the night. For example:
- Who'd you play with at recess today?
- What was the coolest question you heard or asked today?
- What's happening in the book you're reading with your class?
- How was gym/media/computer lab/music?
- What did you talk about at lunch today?
I don't ask all of those; usually, one or two is all that's necessary to get them sharing something more meaningful about their day. As the night goes on, more stories flow out of them, and before long Brian and I have a pretty good picture of their day. There are times when they don't want to talk about things right away, and when that happens, we give them space. But by bedtime, those experiences usually come spilling out as well. We've tried hard to build a culture of communication and trust with them. Only time will tell how successful we have been.
But over the course of the last few months, I've had three different people in very different situations comment on the fact that our kids still tell us things about their lives. Most of them are just commenting not passing judgement, but all have found it noteworthy that our kids tell us things about their friends, teachers, activities, etc. What I find of note, however, is that this isn't the norm. I know our kids don't share everything with us. As Gabe gets older, he probably won't share as many of those details as he does now. But I'll keep asking. Maintaining their sense of privacy and autonomy is crucial, but learning to share life with the people closest to you--that's really what it's all about.
Over the course of the last week, it has really hit me: life is changing. I know that's an er-duh kind of statement, but we are definitely in a state of transition right now. For example:
- I will never again buy clothes in the boys 4-7 section. Both boys are now size 8 and up, with one in the men's section for some of his clothes.
- Gabe is going to his first middle school dance tomorrow. Does he know how to dance? No. Will he dance with a girl? Probably not. If he does, will he tell us? Again, probably not.
- Gabe is in middle school. And doing well, all things considered, especially academically. That's a huge praise right there.
- Zane makes it clear on a daily basis that he is growing up and can do more things on his own. Usually, in an annoyed voice along the lines of "Maaaahhhhmmmmmm...I'm fine. I can do this."
- This one gets me: Zane no longer wants to read the seasonal picture books. Or any kind of picture book. All he wants to read are chapter books now.
- We've stopped reading to Gabe before bed each night. After all, we finished the Harry Potter series, most of the Hardy Boys, and all of the Narnia books. While it was bittersweet for all of us, he would rather read his books on his own now. We still do prayers and/or devotions, but that time sharing books is over.
Our boys are 13 and almost 8. The little boy phase is over for good. While that's exactly how it's supposed to be, there are definitely things that I'll miss. I love being able to have real conversations with Gabe as you may only do with a growing young adult. Yet I miss the sweet innocence of his younger days. Zane is changing physically and I already miss his baby face and adorable sweetness. Life doesn't stand still for a reason, and I am excited about the next phase we have in front of us. But for a second or two, I am mourning the passing of time, for those fleeting years have been so sweet.
My English 12 classes began Bram Stoker's Dracula today. As usual with more advanced texts, I read most of the first chapter aloud to help them get into the flow and style of language. As is often the case when I read yet another Victorian novel, I was annoyed by the inane details. But Stoker has a way of drawing you in (like his monster, perhaps...sorry), and as Jonathan Harker is about to climb in Dracula's coach, the kids didn't want me to stop reading. Neither did I. Great books have great stories. Great books draw you in. You want to stop everything else going on around you and immerse yourself. Great books, however, also challenge us as readers. Texting is so much easier. Facebook is a constant distraction. It can be work to read great books. All I can hope for as I coax my students through these texts, is that they find the pay-off to be worth all the hard work.
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