I have successfully just finished my first week of teaching in what is my fifth year as a teacher. Even as I write those words, I have a hard time believing that I am not exaggerating or outright lying. I still feel as though I am one of the new guys. I still feel like I don't really know what it is that I am doing. I still feel that any day one of my administrators are going to call me into their office and let me know they finally deduced that I am an imposter in the world of academia. Fortunately I learned a long time ago that my feelings in no way reflect reality.
Looking outside of myself, I see a sight that never ceases to amuse me regardless of how many times I watch it unfold in front of me: students beginning a new school year. Each year it's the same thing. Students come in excited. They are happy to see their old teachers, nervous to meet their new ones. Proud of their new level of learning, they remind everyone what their new grade level is and proudly show off their challenging schedule of classes. The first day of school is full of smiles, laughs, excitement, and feet scurrying to get to open their next gift of adventure.
Then we find ourselves at the end of the week.
Students dragging their feet (literally), sighing over assignments, and everyone wearing their grade level like last years old sneakers. I always wonder when it is that students start to catch onto the fact that each year is going to be like opening a big box at Christmas: exciting, curious, and usually not nearly as cool as you dreamed for the weeks leading up to it.
Though less amusing, I also enjoy watching the new students in our school. Being a small private school, anyone coming or going each season is easily noticed. Almost every last new student walks in the doors the first day and observes, carefully gauging who's who and how their new culture's rules run. The great part is when they leave that phase and make their bing choice: "Who will I be here?" They enter the doors seemingly all alike in temperament only to split apart like last week's junior high dating couple. The amazing part comes when I truly come to know the student and uncover who they were at their last school. It is astounding how a new environment, removing a young person from their former mold and engaging them in an environment with no set mold for them, can be a catalyst for a student to metamorphosis into someone they themselves didn't even expect.
I wonder into what type of mold I have allowed myself to be confined. How often do I act and react the way I am expected to react instead of out of the person who I truly am? My society, my culture, my community, and probably even my friends and family relationships have expectations of what I will do and not do. The issue is that so does the Holy Spirit. The difference is the Holy Spirit has expectations based on 100% truth and reality. So why is it I think first of what others probably expect me to do/feel/think instead of immediately focusing in on what the Creator not only desires, but knows to be best and true?
Human Nature. My Fallen Nature. The Flesh. Whatever. I actually don't really care who or what is leading me astray. All I want to do is follow the still, small Voice that seeks to guide me in His will and plan for my every moment. I also remind myself that while it is helpful, a new school year is not necessary for change. No, God told me that His mercies are renewed every morning. If God's mercies (which already abound farther than the entire sinful works of all of mankind) are reset each morning, how could I ever be convinced that I can be hindered from getting a fresh start each and every day?
So I guess that's why I'm writing this blog. There's no bad time to start fresh, to start new, and I have been told numerous times I should write. So off I go. Farther up and further in.
