I never realized how much being a teacher would absolutely break my heart.  Every.  Single. Day.  I chose not to be a doctor because I know my personality.  I know my intense attachment to people.  I knew that I wouldn't be able to separate myself from my job.  Yet, I didn't realize that I would encounter the same type of situation being a teacher.

It's an incredible job, really.  The hours are wonderful, the work is stimulating.  For the (most) part my students are a joy.  I look forward to all the breaks that are unique to this job.

But I feel guilty.  Every night when I lay down.  Guilty that I never had the same struggles some of these kids face.  Guilty that my parents gave me everything I could ever desire both materially and emotionally.  Guilty that learning was never a struggle for me.  Guilty that having a relationship with my Lord seemed natural.  

I feel guilty that I'm somehow not doing enough.  Enough to touch them, to make a difference, to be a home away from home.  I feel as though somewhere along the way I will fail them, and for the most part this is true.  Some point throughout the year I will fail every single one of them.  I will fail to realize they are having problems, I will fail to teach them.  I will have a short temper, expect too much, expect too little.  

But yet I have the most incredible mission field.  150 teenagers every year.  To minister to, to touch, to inspire.  Yet somedays I realize that I am incredibly unqualified for the task.  Somedays I can barely solve my own mess of a life, much less attempt to help someone discover theirs.  

So where is the balance?  How do I teach content and inspire?  How do I make a difference, yet let it go when need be.  How do I love the unlovable?  Reach the withdrawn?  Inspire the discouraged?

How do I do my job, both my earthly one and my eternal one, while maintaining balance and peace.

No comments:

Post a Comment