I've been out of touch with the blog world the past couple of months. A lot's been happening in my world and the world inside my head . . . deep thoughts aplenty! I just haven't really known what to do with them. My grandfather passed away in April. It was a time of mixed emotions for me and my family. My grandfather suffered most of his life from schizophrenia and alcoholism and in his last years Parkinson's and Alzheimer's. My memories of him are tainted with fear and distrust, primarily because I didn't understand what was wrong with him and why he acted the way that he did. I used to think I would feel relieved when he passed, but I was sad. Sad about the relationship we never had or would ever have. Sad that I didn't know as a child what I know now about mental illness (silly, I know), wondering that if maybe I had, could I have given him more hope than what I was able to provide in my ignorance and fear? Sad that he had to suffer what he suffered, trapped in his head, lost and alone. I can't do anything about any of that now, I know, but the thoughts are there lurking as I work to move forward.
Today was the last day of school and with the end of this school-year came the end of many other things. In the weeks leading up to this end, I have had many ask me if I was ready for school to be out. My answer was "no". I wasn't ready for the end. I will be losing 3 students that I've had for 3 years. That was pretty rough, but I intend to keep up with them, so I didn't feel so bereft over them. The thing that I've been dreading most is the departure of "Triple-J": Jack, Jim, and John. Jack is my principal who is moving to a school up north to be Assistant Principle for high school, I believe. Jack is a godly man and a wonderful leader. He pushed to get a Life Skills class in his building and the kids loved him. He provided a sense of security and safety on his campus, and he strove to inspire his teachers to give their all to the children they served. I loved working in his building and will miss him. Jim was the school counselor. He had a quiet strength. He was a magic balm for Sonny. When no one else could get through to Sonny, Jim could. He's going to be the counselor for the high school and I've informed him that I will be calling him when I need help with Sonny next year with the expectation of his full and immediate cooperation. He laughed and said he'd be ready. A good man, a good heart that I'm going to miss being so accessible.
And then there was John. John was one of my teaching assistants and an answer to prayer. When I learned last summer that I would be losing one of my assistants from the year before, I immediately began praying for a new one. I had come to realize that God has been looking after me since I started teaching, regardless of how much I was communicating with Him. I said half-hearted prayers when it came to the acquisition of teaching assistants right before I met them, "Please, God let us get along well!" The Lord provided every single time, more than I could have hoped for. I thought, "What will He do for me if I pray with my whole heart?" So I did, and so came the answer in John. John was the best thing that has happened to my class. He is an amazing, positive male role model for my students, primarily boys. He taught them the importance of working hard, telling the truth, and taking responsibility for themselves--all things that I've taught them for 3 years, but in a way that only a man could succeed. John was creative, coming up with activities to do with them on the spot that were fun and educational at the same time. They never resisted doing anything Mr. John suggested. One day he taught them all how to write their names in Greek. He was trustworthy, patient, and everything I prayed for ("immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine . . . "). I never worried about being gone because John was there. He was a tremendous blessing and I will miss him and the stability and balance he brought to my classroom.
So I've been in mourning. So much in life is beyond our control, I know, but sometimes a person needs to just have a good cry over it in order to move forward. I mourn my grandfather, but I gained a deeper understanding of the vital importance of compassion and grace in our world. I mourn the end of a chapter in my teaching career under phenomenal leadership. I mourn the end of a good team running my classroom. I mourn the loss of a few good men. Like David, upon the looming death of the first child he had with Bathsheba, I mourn. When the child finally passed, David got up, cleaned up, and got on with things because there was nothing more he could do. In the same way: the year is over, I've said my goodbyes, and my mourning will end. I will get up tomorrow and get on with things. I will get on my knees and start praying about the year to come. I will pray for my new leadership and my new teaching assistants with wholehearted faith, knowing that God will provide.
