I am so blessed right at this moment. Yes, I have my frustrations which I spoke about last time but in the grand scheme of things I am blessed.
My youngest graduated last night from high school but I was surrounded by all my kids and my husband. There were other family members there but my family gathered around me and held me up when I broke down and started crying. They all knew it was coming and I think there were some side bets on when it would happen ( :) ). I felt more love then than I could imagine possible.
Today, we have all been together for meals and now they are all playing games together. The laughter and the happiness are the perfect place for me. I love these times. As my kids go their separate ways and grow into adults, I know that these times will be further apart but I am relishing them now. I wish I could share this time with everyone.
This is family. Real family. Not the "we have to be nice" kind of family. This is love, hope, grace, and real all rolled into one. It is not a perfect family but for me it is. We have our ups and downs but that is normal.
This blessing is by far better than money or anything. Yes, money is nice, a job is nice, but family is the greatest thing ever!!! I brag on my kids constantly because they are my world but they are the greatest thing in my life.
I pray that you have a family that brings you the blessings and love like mine does. If they don't then I pray that things change for you. Enjoy your time with your family and kids. It goes by fast and it is so precious. Be blessed. I am praying for you always.
Saturday, May 31, 2014
Saturday, May 24, 2014
My Frustration
I am stinking frustrated right now. It is a petty thing but it is something that is just building like a storm inside of me. I love to travel and unfortunately, I married a man who would rather sit at home on the couch than travel. His idea of traveling is to go try a cafe or something in a small town less than three hours from home.
I know my family reads this and I am probably offending someone but the fact that I am excited about a week long trip to Ruidoso, New Mexico in the middle of summer is sad. I love my family but they are not the reason I am excited about this trip. I am excited because I actually get to go somewhere that is not close to home, is going to be an actual vacation, and is not in Texas. Finally.
There are people going on cruises, going to California, Colorado, Vermont, Canada, Cancun, etc. that's just my family. I have taken up watching the Love Boat just so that I can imagine going some place.
My husband keeps telling me when the kids a rout of college we will travel. Well, my one in college just announced the other day that he has three more years of college! All I could think was, "Well, crud." I have suggested trips to Oklahoma, to the coast, some place. But all I get is "when the kids are out of college."
Once in a while I would like to just get away. I got excited when we went to Fredricksburg recently to see the rocket launch because I got to go somewhere. Grant you it was still in Texas, it was three and half hours away, and it was a place we go to often. But I got to stay in a hotel for the night (cheap and this side of scummy but a hotel.)
I know this all sounds stupid but I just want the chance to go see some place other than what I see constantly. I would love to see the White House, the Washington monument, the smithsonian, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and other places.
My husband thinks I am kidding when I told him this but I am not. I told him that I am going to start taking trips on my own so I can actually travel. He doesn't realize just how serious I am. I can save my pennies so he had better watch it.
My frustration is showing and I apologize but sometimes, you just have to say words out loud.
I know my family reads this and I am probably offending someone but the fact that I am excited about a week long trip to Ruidoso, New Mexico in the middle of summer is sad. I love my family but they are not the reason I am excited about this trip. I am excited because I actually get to go somewhere that is not close to home, is going to be an actual vacation, and is not in Texas. Finally.
There are people going on cruises, going to California, Colorado, Vermont, Canada, Cancun, etc. that's just my family. I have taken up watching the Love Boat just so that I can imagine going some place.
My husband keeps telling me when the kids a rout of college we will travel. Well, my one in college just announced the other day that he has three more years of college! All I could think was, "Well, crud." I have suggested trips to Oklahoma, to the coast, some place. But all I get is "when the kids are out of college."
Once in a while I would like to just get away. I got excited when we went to Fredricksburg recently to see the rocket launch because I got to go somewhere. Grant you it was still in Texas, it was three and half hours away, and it was a place we go to often. But I got to stay in a hotel for the night (cheap and this side of scummy but a hotel.)
I know this all sounds stupid but I just want the chance to go see some place other than what I see constantly. I would love to see the White House, the Washington monument, the smithsonian, the Grand Canyon, Yellowstone, and other places.
My husband thinks I am kidding when I told him this but I am not. I told him that I am going to start taking trips on my own so I can actually travel. He doesn't realize just how serious I am. I can save my pennies so he had better watch it.
My frustration is showing and I apologize but sometimes, you just have to say words out loud.
Sunday, May 18, 2014
Piano Lessons
I admit it. I play the piano. It is something not too many people know about me. My husband and my boys have never heard me really play the piano. They have heard me plink around on it but they have no idea how I really play. I am not as good as the girl who plays at our church but I can play. When you are learning music, you not only learn to play it but you memorize it, feel it, breathe it.
My earliest memories of playing piano were with my grandmother. She would sit down to practice for church (she was the church pianist) and I would sit beside her and plink away. One day she pulled me over and began teaching me the basics. After a while, my parents decided that I was ready for lessons from a real piano teacher.
Mrs. Bartles was my first and favorite teacher. She had the patience of Job and she would let me spend much longer than the allotted 30 minutes for lessons. If there was a piece I was struggling with, she would work with me until I had it down. I developed my love for Beethoven with her. She entered me in several contests and at one point, I placed third in a state competition (duet). Sadly, Mrs. Bartles moved and I went my next teacher.
If I remember right that would have been Mrs. Crosswhite. She was a sweet older lady who admitted after about three lessons that I was beyond what she taught. She was beginning teacher not advanced so we moved on.
Mrs. Bain was next. She was hard. What made it even more difficult for me was that her sons were in my class. If Mrs. Crosswhite was for beginners, then You could say that Mrs Bain was for the highly advanced. I wasn't near the caliber of what most of her students did. I would practice 3-4 hours some days and it still wasn't enough. So when I threatened to quit, my parents found me another teacher.
My last piano teacher (Mrs. Mosher) was great! I think I liked her as much as I did Mrs. Bartles. She pushed me to learn some of the most difficult pieces I had ever tackled. If I hadn't practiced enough, she would know it in a heartbeat, and the lesson was over. "Why waste our time?" She would say. I didn't want to disappoint her so I worked harder than ever. I spent hours practicing. She introduced me to composers that challenged me. She wasn't harsh but when she would praise me, I knew I had achieved a new level of mastery and it made want to go further.
Mrs. Mosher retired from teaching piano around my freshman year. I never had another teacher while I lived at home. I would continue to practice but my heart just wasn't in it as much.
In college, I decided to take a class in piano and see if I could once again work to become the pianist I dreamed of being. The professor there was kind but I was at such an amateurish level, that they didn't really seem to care if I made strides or not.
Performing was and is hard for me. I still get a large case of nerves and my hands shake. I finally gave up my dream of ever playing in front of anyone.
I have my grandmother's piano. It needs to be tuned and repaired. I miss, miss, miss practicing and playing the piano. I don't do it because I don't want to interrupt my family's life, I don't want to bore them, and the constant practicing would drive them nuts. My ultimate dream has always been to have a baby grand piano that I can sit down and play, practice, and perform on. Not the electronic stuff but an actual piano.
I am hoping that when all my kids are grown and gone, I can get the piano I have fixed and I can once again go to my world. I love playing. I feel like I can breathe. It is such a part of my life and I feel like I have had a missing limb for the past 27 years. I look forward to the day I get to do that again.
My earliest memories of playing piano were with my grandmother. She would sit down to practice for church (she was the church pianist) and I would sit beside her and plink away. One day she pulled me over and began teaching me the basics. After a while, my parents decided that I was ready for lessons from a real piano teacher.
Mrs. Bartles was my first and favorite teacher. She had the patience of Job and she would let me spend much longer than the allotted 30 minutes for lessons. If there was a piece I was struggling with, she would work with me until I had it down. I developed my love for Beethoven with her. She entered me in several contests and at one point, I placed third in a state competition (duet). Sadly, Mrs. Bartles moved and I went my next teacher.
If I remember right that would have been Mrs. Crosswhite. She was a sweet older lady who admitted after about three lessons that I was beyond what she taught. She was beginning teacher not advanced so we moved on.
Mrs. Bain was next. She was hard. What made it even more difficult for me was that her sons were in my class. If Mrs. Crosswhite was for beginners, then You could say that Mrs Bain was for the highly advanced. I wasn't near the caliber of what most of her students did. I would practice 3-4 hours some days and it still wasn't enough. So when I threatened to quit, my parents found me another teacher.
My last piano teacher (Mrs. Mosher) was great! I think I liked her as much as I did Mrs. Bartles. She pushed me to learn some of the most difficult pieces I had ever tackled. If I hadn't practiced enough, she would know it in a heartbeat, and the lesson was over. "Why waste our time?" She would say. I didn't want to disappoint her so I worked harder than ever. I spent hours practicing. She introduced me to composers that challenged me. She wasn't harsh but when she would praise me, I knew I had achieved a new level of mastery and it made want to go further.
Mrs. Mosher retired from teaching piano around my freshman year. I never had another teacher while I lived at home. I would continue to practice but my heart just wasn't in it as much.
In college, I decided to take a class in piano and see if I could once again work to become the pianist I dreamed of being. The professor there was kind but I was at such an amateurish level, that they didn't really seem to care if I made strides or not.
Performing was and is hard for me. I still get a large case of nerves and my hands shake. I finally gave up my dream of ever playing in front of anyone.
I have my grandmother's piano. It needs to be tuned and repaired. I miss, miss, miss practicing and playing the piano. I don't do it because I don't want to interrupt my family's life, I don't want to bore them, and the constant practicing would drive them nuts. My ultimate dream has always been to have a baby grand piano that I can sit down and play, practice, and perform on. Not the electronic stuff but an actual piano.
I am hoping that when all my kids are grown and gone, I can get the piano I have fixed and I can once again go to my world. I love playing. I feel like I can breathe. It is such a part of my life and I feel like I have had a missing limb for the past 27 years. I look forward to the day I get to do that again.
Tuesday, May 13, 2014
I wish I could....but I can't
I am struggling right now. I admit it. I am fighting to stay positive and remember that God is in charge. Satan is throwing everything he can at me and I am trying my hardest to stand against what he is doing. I am going to share what is going on because I know there are those people out there that go through similar struggles and maybe this will encourage them and selfishly, myself.
It seems like this time of year is when our finances get hit hard. We are fine most of the year, pay our bills on time, and still have some money in the bank. But for some reason, this time of year, our money disappears and things go crazy financially. We are not poor, we have a budget but our finances take a direct hit. I can't explain it. I just have to stand on faith that God is there and that we will be okay. It may take a while to recover but we will be okay. My husband takes the brunt of the worrying about the budget. Unfortunately, when he worries, he shuts down. I know he has to process things and that he has to pray about what to do but as his wife, it is hard to sit back and wait for him to decide to share the plan with me. God has taught me recently, to wait and not push him. It can be stressful but eventually he does share the plan with me. I just wish I could help him during this process but I can't.
My youngest is struggling with classes, graduation, realizing that he is about to have to make some life decisions, and honestly, he is scared but won't admit it out loud. He wants to be treated like an adult (he is 17) but in a lot of ways he is still a little boy at heart. I wish I could help him and fix all his problems but I can't.
My middle son is dealing with life issues and is finding out that being an adult is harder than he thought. He is in college and so he is still learning but he is also my worrier. I wish I could stop him from worrying or fix the problems he encounters with classes but I can't.
My oldest is facing life in the grown-up world. He has a full time job that keeps him running, he is managing to hang on to a wonderful girl even though they are having to do a long distance relationship thing, and he has taken responsibility for his finances. I wish I could make the life lessons a little easier but I can't.
Today, I seem to be apologizing for everything to everyone. I keep trying to get things right but every time I turn around I have another mistake that I have to correct. I found myself saying "I wish I could go back and do this over but I can't." more times than I cared to.
I wish I could do a lot of things right now but I can't. It is all out of my control. I am not in charge. I have to rely upon God and keep praying. I am a fixer at heart and I want to fix all the problems my family and kids encounter. I have learned that when I try to do that, I end up making a bigger mess. So all I have is relying upon God and for me that is enough because I know that He can fix it all. It is in His timing, not ours. That is a whole other lesson I need to learn. So I pray a lot and I talk to God a lot and I know that my faith is in Him and He is in charge. It makes things easier to deal with.
Be blessed. I am always praying.
It seems like this time of year is when our finances get hit hard. We are fine most of the year, pay our bills on time, and still have some money in the bank. But for some reason, this time of year, our money disappears and things go crazy financially. We are not poor, we have a budget but our finances take a direct hit. I can't explain it. I just have to stand on faith that God is there and that we will be okay. It may take a while to recover but we will be okay. My husband takes the brunt of the worrying about the budget. Unfortunately, when he worries, he shuts down. I know he has to process things and that he has to pray about what to do but as his wife, it is hard to sit back and wait for him to decide to share the plan with me. God has taught me recently, to wait and not push him. It can be stressful but eventually he does share the plan with me. I just wish I could help him during this process but I can't.
My youngest is struggling with classes, graduation, realizing that he is about to have to make some life decisions, and honestly, he is scared but won't admit it out loud. He wants to be treated like an adult (he is 17) but in a lot of ways he is still a little boy at heart. I wish I could help him and fix all his problems but I can't.
My middle son is dealing with life issues and is finding out that being an adult is harder than he thought. He is in college and so he is still learning but he is also my worrier. I wish I could stop him from worrying or fix the problems he encounters with classes but I can't.
My oldest is facing life in the grown-up world. He has a full time job that keeps him running, he is managing to hang on to a wonderful girl even though they are having to do a long distance relationship thing, and he has taken responsibility for his finances. I wish I could make the life lessons a little easier but I can't.
Today, I seem to be apologizing for everything to everyone. I keep trying to get things right but every time I turn around I have another mistake that I have to correct. I found myself saying "I wish I could go back and do this over but I can't." more times than I cared to.
I wish I could do a lot of things right now but I can't. It is all out of my control. I am not in charge. I have to rely upon God and keep praying. I am a fixer at heart and I want to fix all the problems my family and kids encounter. I have learned that when I try to do that, I end up making a bigger mess. So all I have is relying upon God and for me that is enough because I know that He can fix it all. It is in His timing, not ours. That is a whole other lesson I need to learn. So I pray a lot and I talk to God a lot and I know that my faith is in Him and He is in charge. It makes things easier to deal with.
Be blessed. I am always praying.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
My Psoriasis
I never thought that I would have to admit that I have a "disease" but in a way I do. I have something called plaque psoriasis. It is a skin condition. I am fortunate because I have a mild case. It is an ugly thing and for some people it is horrendous. I have spent hours researching it. Here is my story.
Four years ago, things were as bad as it can get with work (calling it a hostile work environment would have been a nice way to put it), Jeff's mom got sick and within six weeks was gone from us, and I was finding myself exhausted. That is when it suddenly struck.
I had knicked my thumb on my right hand while trimming my nails one night. It was a small cut and I had had this many times before so I didn't worry. Over the next week, I noticed that a strange scabbing had started covering my thumb even though the cut was healed. It itched and was ugly looking but nothing too bad. Within two weeks, I saw that the scabbing had spread over the palm of my hand and was now showing up on my left hand as well. I started trying to get rid of it thinking it was just a reaction to something. After a month, both of my hands were covered in this strange scabbing and it was now showing up on my feet. It caused my hands and feet to itch and crack and bleed. It was painful and there didn't seem to be anything that would help it. I went to renew my driver's license and they couldn't take a print because my hands were so covered in this stuff. They made a note that I had a skin rash that made it impossible to take the print.
I was given the name of a doctor in Mansfield that dealt with skin rashes. I went to her and she did an allergy test only to show that I was allergic to pine trees (I already knew that) and some of the ingredients in carbonated drinks and processed foods. She did a biopsy and said it wasn't cancer. Then she told me to go to the dermatologist because she had done all she could do.
I started researching it and I found it was something called psoriasis. I finally tried to contact a dermatologist. The one in Cleburne I wanted to use had a six month waiting period. I wasn't that patient. I was hurting and I wanted help now. I found a dermatologist in Arlington and started going to them. I asked them on the first visit if it could be stress related and if it was psoriasis. I was given the eye roll ("great another self diagnosis from the internet") and then told that stress had nothing to do with it. Over the course of 8 months, hundreds of dollars for visits, time off work to go to visits, and creams that did nothing, they finally decided that there was nothing they could do for me and I would "just have to live with it".
I decided to go to my family doctor and get his opinion. He was out and his fill in was a grumpy "old school" kind of doctor. (I don't mind the old school part but grumpy I could do without.) He took one look at my hands and feet, told me it was psoriasis, and then ordered blood work. The end for him. No recommendations, no medicine, nothing. I was more than frustrated. I contacted the dermatologist in Cleburne and got lucky. They had an appointment in 2 weeks open up. I took it.
When I got to the dermatologist, I had every stupid cream and thing the previous dermatologist had given me. Now this dermatologist was "old school" and kind. He looked at my hands and feet, he looked at all the medicines I had been given and shook his head. He then asked me some questions. He was the one person who looked me in the eye and told me that "yes, stress was a huge factor in all of this."; "yes, I did have psoriasis"; and "yes, it could occur in someone's life at any given time." He then told me of an over the counter medicine that would help with the itchiness and some of the symptoms but unfortunately, I would have it the rest of my life.
I was so relieved. I wasn't a crazy nut. I wasn't hallucinating. I was actually right. He did tell me that I was lucky and that it was a mild case. Most people have it on their heads (which means you lose all your hair) and worst cases have it all over their body. (I can't even begin to imagine the pain and suffering in that.) He said that it might clear up some but he wasn't guaranteeing anything.
I was so glad. I started using the medicine he recommended and then I went on my way. I realized about a month later that it had almost completely gone from my hands. In fact, my left hand was completely clear and there were only splotches left on my right hand. My feet were better also.
To this day, I struggle with psoriasis on my hand and feet. On a good day, it just makes my feet look ugly and my hand look rough. On bad days, I look for something to scratch with so that I can kill the intense itching that overcomes my whole being. I will find anything to scratch with and I mean anything! When these days happen, I scratch until my feet are cracked and bleeding. I know this is going to happen but the itch is so intense that I can't stop myself. I still doctor the areas with the medicine the last dermatologist recommended. It helps but doesn't make it go away. When I am stressed, excited, upset, and when I first wake up in the morning the itch is much worse. I used to try to hide my feet so that people couldn't see it but I have long given that up. It is just something I deal with.
I am hoping that someday this will go away in the same fashion that it came. I keep praying. So, don't be grossed out when we shake hands. It is not contagious. It isn't cancer. It is just a skin thing. Be Blessed. I am always praying.
Four years ago, things were as bad as it can get with work (calling it a hostile work environment would have been a nice way to put it), Jeff's mom got sick and within six weeks was gone from us, and I was finding myself exhausted. That is when it suddenly struck.
I had knicked my thumb on my right hand while trimming my nails one night. It was a small cut and I had had this many times before so I didn't worry. Over the next week, I noticed that a strange scabbing had started covering my thumb even though the cut was healed. It itched and was ugly looking but nothing too bad. Within two weeks, I saw that the scabbing had spread over the palm of my hand and was now showing up on my left hand as well. I started trying to get rid of it thinking it was just a reaction to something. After a month, both of my hands were covered in this strange scabbing and it was now showing up on my feet. It caused my hands and feet to itch and crack and bleed. It was painful and there didn't seem to be anything that would help it. I went to renew my driver's license and they couldn't take a print because my hands were so covered in this stuff. They made a note that I had a skin rash that made it impossible to take the print.
I was given the name of a doctor in Mansfield that dealt with skin rashes. I went to her and she did an allergy test only to show that I was allergic to pine trees (I already knew that) and some of the ingredients in carbonated drinks and processed foods. She did a biopsy and said it wasn't cancer. Then she told me to go to the dermatologist because she had done all she could do.
I started researching it and I found it was something called psoriasis. I finally tried to contact a dermatologist. The one in Cleburne I wanted to use had a six month waiting period. I wasn't that patient. I was hurting and I wanted help now. I found a dermatologist in Arlington and started going to them. I asked them on the first visit if it could be stress related and if it was psoriasis. I was given the eye roll ("great another self diagnosis from the internet") and then told that stress had nothing to do with it. Over the course of 8 months, hundreds of dollars for visits, time off work to go to visits, and creams that did nothing, they finally decided that there was nothing they could do for me and I would "just have to live with it".
I decided to go to my family doctor and get his opinion. He was out and his fill in was a grumpy "old school" kind of doctor. (I don't mind the old school part but grumpy I could do without.) He took one look at my hands and feet, told me it was psoriasis, and then ordered blood work. The end for him. No recommendations, no medicine, nothing. I was more than frustrated. I contacted the dermatologist in Cleburne and got lucky. They had an appointment in 2 weeks open up. I took it.
When I got to the dermatologist, I had every stupid cream and thing the previous dermatologist had given me. Now this dermatologist was "old school" and kind. He looked at my hands and feet, he looked at all the medicines I had been given and shook his head. He then asked me some questions. He was the one person who looked me in the eye and told me that "yes, stress was a huge factor in all of this."; "yes, I did have psoriasis"; and "yes, it could occur in someone's life at any given time." He then told me of an over the counter medicine that would help with the itchiness and some of the symptoms but unfortunately, I would have it the rest of my life.
I was so relieved. I wasn't a crazy nut. I wasn't hallucinating. I was actually right. He did tell me that I was lucky and that it was a mild case. Most people have it on their heads (which means you lose all your hair) and worst cases have it all over their body. (I can't even begin to imagine the pain and suffering in that.) He said that it might clear up some but he wasn't guaranteeing anything.
I was so glad. I started using the medicine he recommended and then I went on my way. I realized about a month later that it had almost completely gone from my hands. In fact, my left hand was completely clear and there were only splotches left on my right hand. My feet were better also.
To this day, I struggle with psoriasis on my hand and feet. On a good day, it just makes my feet look ugly and my hand look rough. On bad days, I look for something to scratch with so that I can kill the intense itching that overcomes my whole being. I will find anything to scratch with and I mean anything! When these days happen, I scratch until my feet are cracked and bleeding. I know this is going to happen but the itch is so intense that I can't stop myself. I still doctor the areas with the medicine the last dermatologist recommended. It helps but doesn't make it go away. When I am stressed, excited, upset, and when I first wake up in the morning the itch is much worse. I used to try to hide my feet so that people couldn't see it but I have long given that up. It is just something I deal with.
I am hoping that someday this will go away in the same fashion that it came. I keep praying. So, don't be grossed out when we shake hands. It is not contagious. It isn't cancer. It is just a skin thing. Be Blessed. I am always praying.
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Lessons in Life
Not too long ago, I wrote about God hitting upside the head with His 2x4. There is more to that than I previously wrote about.
Let's go back a little ways. I have held several jobs and in reality I have never had to really work to get them. They have always "fell" into my lap. My job as a caseworker lasted until I had my third child. I quit to stay home with my kids. I worked for 5 years at this job and it was always an endurance for me to get up and go. I learned a lot from that job. How to be OCD about files and paperwork, how to take "he said, she said" notes, and how to deal with crazy people. All of this helped later in life.
My job as a teacher started when a dear friend of mine called out of the blue one day and told me that God had told her I was to come and teach. I had no intention of teaching but at the time she called, God was also dealing with me and I felt that maybe I was ready to try. I went in with no prior knowledge, no experience, and no idea what I was in for. I knew I was a one year hire so I was okay with that. What I didn't expect was that I would enjoy it so much and how easy it came for me. This same friend worked her tail off to find me a program in which I could get certified within a year and become a full blown teacher. I went into the program and loved it. Those first few years, I went at my job with all the passion and love that I didn't know existed. I would get up and go to work without really thinking that I was working. It was fun. I loved watching the kids get a concept or learn how to do something. I worked with some great people that patiently helped me with some things I didn't know how to do. It was great.
Then I hit a rough patch and what I call my "seven years of wandering the desert" happened. I realized that not everyone will like me and that not everyone is there to be a friend. I learned that people can be vicious and that politics play more of a part of all of this than you realize. I took a stand and I see now that that was when things started going weird. I was assigned subjects that I have never taught and am not strong in. I tried to tell myself that I was being stretched and it was going to be a good thing but then another twist was added and I realized that this was just a way to get me out of the way. I tried to meet the challenge but failed. I was reassigned. I did the job I was given but teaching was no longer fun. I had lost my passion. I still worked hard for the kids but my heart wasn't in it anymore.
When I was assigned a special unit, I knew that I was no longer being seen as a teacher but as someone they needed to hide away until they could figure out what to do with me. They did. They told me that due to budget problems, I was no longer needed. After 13 years, I had to leave the place I was secure and had learned everything. I was being thrown out with no other explanations. I knew that I could throw a fit and scream and shout and cuss but it wouldn't make any difference. So I held my tongue. I was angry, hurt, scared, and terrified. I had kids in college, bills to pay, a husband who depended on me having a job. I let the fear consume me.
That summer, I was like someone I had never seen. I cried constantly, I called, emailed, texted school after school after school. I went to interviews. No one would even call me back. Finally, mid-July I got the call to come and interview at my current school. I went. I interviewed. I left thinking they hated me only to have them call me 2 hours later and offer me the job. I was elated! I thought that this was it!
Once in this job, God started showing me some things. I had become complacent in my teaching and my work. I had become sloppy. I was disorganized. I was not doing my best and hadn't been for a while. He shook my foundation heavily. I also learned that not everyone likes me and that is okay. The biggest lesson I had to learn was how to be silent. I work with a person who dislikes me to the point of hating me. I hate confrontation but on 2 occasions I had to involve my principal. It was when nothing was done that I realized that I had to learn to be silent. I am a talker and a fixer and to be silent for 2-3 hours at a time was hard to learn. But I did learn it.
I was then told I needed to leave. Even after all the dust settled and I asked what the real reason for my leaving was, I was told I was always a one year hire. I was only to be here for a year and nothing more. I was shocked. Then I realized that God needed me to be hired here so that He could show me some things. He needed to bring me to a place that He could shape me into more of the person He wanted me to be.
He started placing words in my heart. He showed me the book He wanted me to write. He stripped me down to the bare bones and showed me what I needed to do. It wasn't all at once but in pieces. As each piece was revealed and worked on, I saw myself changing.
When I accepted my new job for next year, I was happy but then as time has gone on, I have begun to realize that my passion is returning and that I am excited about next year. I am wanting to go, set up my room, meet my new assistants, and start working with my new kids. I am ready to get going. I haven't felt like this in many years. I realized that that throughout this year that God has restored my passion for teaching. My "wandering the desert" years are over for now and I am moving into a new place with my walk with God and in my profession. It is such a blessing and such a relief.
Be blessed. I am always praying.
Let's go back a little ways. I have held several jobs and in reality I have never had to really work to get them. They have always "fell" into my lap. My job as a caseworker lasted until I had my third child. I quit to stay home with my kids. I worked for 5 years at this job and it was always an endurance for me to get up and go. I learned a lot from that job. How to be OCD about files and paperwork, how to take "he said, she said" notes, and how to deal with crazy people. All of this helped later in life.
My job as a teacher started when a dear friend of mine called out of the blue one day and told me that God had told her I was to come and teach. I had no intention of teaching but at the time she called, God was also dealing with me and I felt that maybe I was ready to try. I went in with no prior knowledge, no experience, and no idea what I was in for. I knew I was a one year hire so I was okay with that. What I didn't expect was that I would enjoy it so much and how easy it came for me. This same friend worked her tail off to find me a program in which I could get certified within a year and become a full blown teacher. I went into the program and loved it. Those first few years, I went at my job with all the passion and love that I didn't know existed. I would get up and go to work without really thinking that I was working. It was fun. I loved watching the kids get a concept or learn how to do something. I worked with some great people that patiently helped me with some things I didn't know how to do. It was great.
Then I hit a rough patch and what I call my "seven years of wandering the desert" happened. I realized that not everyone will like me and that not everyone is there to be a friend. I learned that people can be vicious and that politics play more of a part of all of this than you realize. I took a stand and I see now that that was when things started going weird. I was assigned subjects that I have never taught and am not strong in. I tried to tell myself that I was being stretched and it was going to be a good thing but then another twist was added and I realized that this was just a way to get me out of the way. I tried to meet the challenge but failed. I was reassigned. I did the job I was given but teaching was no longer fun. I had lost my passion. I still worked hard for the kids but my heart wasn't in it anymore.
When I was assigned a special unit, I knew that I was no longer being seen as a teacher but as someone they needed to hide away until they could figure out what to do with me. They did. They told me that due to budget problems, I was no longer needed. After 13 years, I had to leave the place I was secure and had learned everything. I was being thrown out with no other explanations. I knew that I could throw a fit and scream and shout and cuss but it wouldn't make any difference. So I held my tongue. I was angry, hurt, scared, and terrified. I had kids in college, bills to pay, a husband who depended on me having a job. I let the fear consume me.
That summer, I was like someone I had never seen. I cried constantly, I called, emailed, texted school after school after school. I went to interviews. No one would even call me back. Finally, mid-July I got the call to come and interview at my current school. I went. I interviewed. I left thinking they hated me only to have them call me 2 hours later and offer me the job. I was elated! I thought that this was it!
Once in this job, God started showing me some things. I had become complacent in my teaching and my work. I had become sloppy. I was disorganized. I was not doing my best and hadn't been for a while. He shook my foundation heavily. I also learned that not everyone likes me and that is okay. The biggest lesson I had to learn was how to be silent. I work with a person who dislikes me to the point of hating me. I hate confrontation but on 2 occasions I had to involve my principal. It was when nothing was done that I realized that I had to learn to be silent. I am a talker and a fixer and to be silent for 2-3 hours at a time was hard to learn. But I did learn it.
I was then told I needed to leave. Even after all the dust settled and I asked what the real reason for my leaving was, I was told I was always a one year hire. I was only to be here for a year and nothing more. I was shocked. Then I realized that God needed me to be hired here so that He could show me some things. He needed to bring me to a place that He could shape me into more of the person He wanted me to be.
He started placing words in my heart. He showed me the book He wanted me to write. He stripped me down to the bare bones and showed me what I needed to do. It wasn't all at once but in pieces. As each piece was revealed and worked on, I saw myself changing.
When I accepted my new job for next year, I was happy but then as time has gone on, I have begun to realize that my passion is returning and that I am excited about next year. I am wanting to go, set up my room, meet my new assistants, and start working with my new kids. I am ready to get going. I haven't felt like this in many years. I realized that that throughout this year that God has restored my passion for teaching. My "wandering the desert" years are over for now and I am moving into a new place with my walk with God and in my profession. It is such a blessing and such a relief.
Be blessed. I am always praying.
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