Sticking Where God Said to Go

 I've probably posted about this before but the story continues. 

Sun.,Sept. 25, 2022, I had planned to go to a church 4 miles from where I live. Half way through getting ready, I clearly heard, "Go to Mansfield." I knew the church that God was talking about. But I didn't know the name if it or the address. I argued that the drive is 25 miles one way, that I hate driving that far for anything in a regular basis, that I only know one person at that church, that I'm gonna be late. I hate going where I've never been. But He kept saying those three words, "Go to Mansfield."

Then I get a text from the person I had planned to meet with at the church 4 miles away that they would not be going to church that morning. Okay God, I get the picture.

I've been so touched every time I enter that place. I'm changing, learning, and on an exponential healing trajectory. I've been in tears every single time that I go. 

I've attended every week without even a desire to argue against going. This is a complete opposite of the previous 14 years.

Since the closing of the church I was attending in 2008, I've had every excuse imaginable for not going. I've visited and had a few times of attending consecutive services at various churches during that time. But the connection wasn't happening. I even went back to the previous church that my closed church had been planted out of, nothing. I hate the thought of church hopping, so I didn't. I thought the lack of connection was due to distance of so many of the places I attended. But there wasn't a connection 1 mile away either. I didn't feel like I fit in. Like I had to meet certain expectations to fit. Like i had to dress a certain way. (Honestly by Sunday I just want to be in a t-shirt and jeans.) Some churches I would walk in, be there the entire service and walk out meeting nobody. I think they were so big they didn't know I was new. Others I walked in, one or two would say hello but nothing further. Others I would walk in, initiate conversation but still nothing further, other than they would immediately want me to be involved in things I had no desire to be involved in. Primarily kids ministry. "Oh you're a teacher, . . . ." "Yes, but I'm doing that 5 to 6 days a week. I'm exhausted, done. Little ones are exhausting. I know! I have little nieces!" And Sunday is my day to rest after working 50, 60, or even 70 hrs a week, so sometimes I need sleep, not another alarm to get up early enough to be somewhere preparing to teach. 

So I've landed in a church 25 miles away. A few connections are happening. I still don't know everybody. I've worn a t-shirt and jeans since day 1. And nobody has had anything negative to say about it. I don't feel like I'm in "high church" where you're gawked at if you don't wear the "appropriate attire". (I hate clothes shopping. I need help.) I don't have to work with the kids unless I want to. Every single time I've had a meaningful conversation with somebody. Things are reciprocal. I'm allowed to be a part of the clean up even if I didn't sign up. People give and take hugs! I'm being challenged and growing as a result.

This church is not like any I've ever been in. No pyramid to try to work towards the top to be somebody. No groups that you are "band" from being part of just because you're not part of that click.

Have I agreed with everything? NO! I don't think such a place exists. But they're okay with my not agreeing. They're not going to kick me out. There is a respectful agree to disagree. I still get to be part of the family, not just a side kick.

Besides, God said, "Go to Mansfield." And until He tells me different, that's where I am. And I'm going to do what He's telling me to do. And I'm going to say what He tells me to say. And along the way, I'm endeavoring to say and do nothing more and nothing less. 

My Teachers and Career

I was reading about a teacher who won a very prestigious award for the subject that she teaches. That got me thinking about my career and the teachers I've had. 

Awards are nice. Recognition is very appreciated. But the real reward is seeing kids turn from "I'm here because I have to be." or "I'm not good at math." to "Oh, I get it. I can do this! I can be successful. I can learn." Sometimes the data does not show all the successes. 

The kid who is taking the class again, goes through 1st semester the same way he went through the whole year last year. But then something clicks and there is more work ethic in class. He realizes that I'm willing to work with him but I can't do things for him. 

The other kid who tells you the first week of school that her goal this year is to stay out of trouble and not fight anybody, so she figures she just needs to stay clear from everybody. Success! Now she's applying to a summer institute where she'll learn even more about what leadership means. Additionally, she's moved from being a good student to an excellent student. She's willing to risk speaking up in class and work with others instead of avoiding them. 

The list could continue over 100 times every year. Fourteen years and counting. 

I think of my teachers. My academic challenge was comprehending what I was reading the first time I read something. I still have to reread things at times. 

Ruth Ross, 2nd grade, where I learned reading and phonics and to love learning. I saw hope in her eyes. Where I first started enjoying math.

Earlene McCune, 4th grade, where I learned to accept challenges in learning and saw safety in her eyes. She gave us those speed tests for math facts. Amanda Redman, music, where I started having the passion to sing and play instruments and whose eyes have always been filled with joy.

Ferrell McKay, 5th grade and drill team, I learned persistence and saw the willingness she had to let me keep trying. 

Ron Frech, basketball coach and math, where I learned that some things require practice and persistence and who had a passion for the game as well as the ethic we were learning. He also helped with that love of math. 

Mrs. Box, middle school history, where I learned that the past tells us how we got where we are and yet again, eyes that had a message of safety.

Nancy Cathey, high school music, who took me all over the state for competition, ensembles, choirs, solos and all the way to state. 

Mrs. Trout, typing, where I learned there are reasons to do certain things certain ways. I'm so glad my grandmother highly advised that I take that class. 

Terry Shaklee, 4 years of high school math, yearbook, journalism, senior English, where I learned how to learn. She's probably appalled at my punctuation and run on sentences, at times. I learned persistence for excellence, increased in being self-motivated, and that I had enough talent to do almost anything I wanted.

Linda Baird, SNU School of Nursing, who believed in me. Where I learned I could regardless of most telling me I wouldn't be successful. 

Stephanie Shellenberger, SNU athletics, who I do wanted to play volleyball for but the financial aspect was in the way. But she believed in me. She always wanted to know how I was doing. 

Even over the past 14 years, I've gleaned from others: Virginia Dean, Betsy Norris, Dr. Pam Littleton, Jennifer Nicholson, Brenda Lampman, Melinda Brock, Jeana Schweikhard, Monita Sharpe, Melissa Rincon, Mitch Lindsey. 

I know I'm missing others. I'm sorry. 

Did I have some that were not all that great? Sure. But even from those, I've hopefully learned. 

I repeatedly tell my kids that sometimes the best learning is from our mistakes and to accept mistakes as learning opportunities. Hopefully, they don't have to learn from my mistakes too many times. Hopefully, when I make mistakes, they see that I'm willing to own up to it and adjust to make things right.

 Teaching is challenging in so many levels. Probably more so now than at any time. But then again, maybe not. Maybe the challenges are just different. I know I have to repeatedly remind myself why I teach. If I focus too much on the politics in education, I would walk away today and find a different job. Teaching is about the kids not the institutions expectations.