I Don't Want to be a Teacher

 "Thanks, but I don't want to be a teacher."

     Oh, how many times have I said that phrase! Every time I told someone that my major was Musical Theatre, their immediate response was, "So you want to teach kids theatre classes?" My return always was, "Not really, I am getting my degree to perform." I quickly became exhausted with people's automatic assumption that I working on my degree in order to spend my days telling other people how to do it. I choose my Musical Theatre degree because I deeply loved storytelling so much that it felt like an inherent part of my body. Acting and singing were as natural to me as breathing. So I wanted to learn how to be myself better. 

But I did not want to teach. 

     In fact, the more people asked me if I was going to be a teacher, the more annoyed I became at the concept. To my amusement, however, my favorite class that I took in college was Vocal Pedagogy, which was all about how to teach voice lessons. I was roped into teaching my first voice lesson students the following year. To my amazement, I liked it. It was kind of fun to teach eager students a subject that I was passionate about. Seeing kids come out of their shell on stage was so rewarding. But I didn't want to be a teacher. It was just a side job to make some extra cash and assist the music department. 

     To make the situation even more complicated, I went on to finish a Master's Degree in Education! But it was only because the degree was free through my college, there were limited options, and it seemed like the most useful one at the time. I didn't want to be a teacher. I was simply learning how to be a teacher because it was the next open door. At the same time, I was teaching private voice and piano lessons to make some extra money and had been roped into assisting with the Christus Homines Drama Troupe as an acting coach. The Troupe accepted me with open arms and instantly trusted me to teach, which honestly startled me. 

     The next year, they wanted me to not assist with the younger kids like I had imagined, but to be in charge of teaching and directing an entire high school show! I was terrified. I don't think I had ever prayed so much for a theatre show as I did for Cheaper by the Dozen! I didn't fit in the high school group when I was in high school, so I assumed that I wouldn't be able to connect with the students now. I was afraid that I wouldn't have the knowledge or experience to teach well. I was afraid that I would teach them wrong, or stumble on my words, or they wouldn't listen or care what I would say....

     I came to the realization that I didn't want to be a teacher because I was afraid of being a teacher. I was afraid of being a teacher because I had a great respect for teachers and their influence. I looked up to my parents, my aunts, and my teachers over the course of my life with such awe and a deep understanding of the difficulties of being a teacher that I had elevated the role to be unattainable in my eyes. Teachers have such an influence over the easily molded lives of their students that it would be so easy to mess it up. My teachers had been wonderful and had shaped the person who I was. What if I made mistakes with my students and negatively influenced how their personalities and lives would unfold? I knew that teaching was a hard job with little recognition and reward in the world's eyes. What if I didn't have the care, compassion, and perseverance to teach well? 

In that case, I didn't want to be a teacher. 

     The heart of teaching didn't hit me until the last day of the show. At the end of the process, teaching theatre was never about theatre. It was about connections, learning about who you are as a person, learning about other people, learning to work as a team, learning who God is through storytelling, and being an encouragement to my kids. It took a lot of prayer and lots of mistakes to realize that at the very end. It hit me hard and I cried on my bedroom floor after the show that night in humility and gratefulness. 

     And then I got a random Facebook message from people I had never met at a Christian school who was looking for someone to direct a middle school musical. Usually when opportunities plop in my lap out of the blue, they are from the Lord. With lots of worrying and prayer, I accepted the part-time job. Boy, did that show teach me about being a teacher! I was on my own in a new territory with new expectations and kids who had never done theatre before. That was the beauty of it, though! We were able to explore and create a well-known story into something new together! I had many tough experiences in the making of Aladdin, but I discovered a new part of myself...

I didn't mind being a teacher. I kind of loved it. 

     I began to see how teaching has been a hidden thread woven into my story's tapestry. As a child, I taught my siblings how to perform, how to write papers, and how to grow in each next chapter of life behind me. I put on plays and musicals of my own making when I didn't have the opportunities to be in shows myself. I am teaching all of the time at Chick-fil-A and encouraging my team to develop. I see the potential in almost every person I meet to learn and grow. Is that just a hidden side of teaching that I never noticed before?

     Now as future chapters unfold, I can honestly say that the idea of being a teacher is still as frightening as it has always been. But maybe that's not a bad thing. Maybe it will keep me humble as I pray for wisdom through every teaching experience. Maybe not wanting to be a teacher will prompt me to trust in the greatest Teacher there ever was. Maybe being a teacher will ultimately teach me. I don't necessarily want to be a teacher, but I'm willing to continue to try to be the best teacher I can be!

Live in the Slow Moments

Social media only lets you see the results. 

You see the delicious cookies, but not the flour covered counters when the baker messed up the recipe twice. 

You see the graduate with their diploma, but not the hours of studying, and the crying over assignments.

You see the final performance of the show, but not the swollen feet, hours of memorization, backstage drama, and the late nights of rehearsal. 

You see the thirty pounds gone through weight loss, but not the sweating in the gym, the courage of saying no, or the days when the weight doesn't seem to be going anywhere. 

     Social media only lets you see the end, not the middle. In this world of vicariously living through other people's virtual lives, we are tempted to believe that everyone else has got their life together. Engagements, weddings, graduations, moving out, new babies, new jobs and all of the other climatic moments jumble together in an exciting celebration, and we become discontent in our slow lives. As we live in the daily continuum, we scroll through others ending victories. 

It can become quite deflating to be connected to others only through the lens of fast-paced stories on Instagram. Ten second snapshots of the best in someone's life. 

     So live life with people in the slow moments. Go out to dinner. Meet up for coffee. Be a part of a small group. Get to know people where they are at. Not only in the victories but in the seasons where nothing seems to be happening. Allow someone to see your life in the seemingly monotonous, boring, go to work and come home, pajama movie nights, peanut butter and jelly, ramen noodles kind of days. That's where life is truly lived. 

     Sometimes the best moments are in the late night study groups, running on the treadmills, off-book rehearsals, and remaking cookie batter because you put in the wrong ingredients! But how will you know unless you step out and make personal connections with others? 

Don't live just behind a screen. Live in the slow moments. 

Weight of the World

I try to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.

It's heavy.

It hurts.

It cuts my skin and makes my muscles ache.

But if I don't carry it, who will?

I take on the weight of the world on my shoulders.

People's anxieties and regrets.

People's secrets and sorrows.

I am bowed over, crawling in the dust, trying to be strong enough for them all.

Because if I don't bear it, who will take the time to listen?

I pretend there is no weight of the world on my shoulders.

If I smile, no one will notice.

If I laugh, no one will know.

If I pretend, no one will see how I tremble underneath the strain.

Because if I don't stay happy, who will lift us up?

It's too heavy. My shoulders bleed. My body shakes. I crawl a few inches further. And then I stop. My breaths are labored and I'm choking in the dust. In one last attempt to be enough, I push the ground to try to raise myself up but the weight of the world is too heavy. I collapse. A gasping cry leaves my lips as it finally hits me,

I wasn't made for this.

A pierced hand gently touches my blistered shoulders. It is so soothing. Gentle yet firm. He starts to take the weight of the world off my shoulders. I don't try to stop Him. I stay in silent surrender.

The weight falls off and I hear Him groan as He puts it on Himself. I painfully turn my head to look up at Him. And for the first time in ages, I truly smile, not just for show.

He can carry the weight of the world on His shoulders.

It's heavy.

It hurts.

But it doesn't cut His skin or makes His muscles ache.

He is the perfect one to carry it.  

He could take on more weight of the world on His shoulders.

His people's anxieties and regrets.

His people's secrets and sorrows.

He is the only one strong enough to fix them all. 

He would always take the time to listen and redeem.

He was the only one to carry the weight of the world on His shoulders.

That burden was never meant for me.

How foolish was I to think I could bear it?

Instead of trying to shoulder it alone, I needed to trust Him with it all.

How incredibly simple yet vastly difficult.

He picked me up from the ground, dusted off my clothes, and my shoulders instantly began to heal. I wept for the joy of relief. This was exactly how it was always meant to be. He steadied the weight on His shoulders, smiled, took my hand, and He led me on my journey home. 

"Cast all your cares on Him for He cares for you." 1 Peter 5:7

I'm Sorry It Didn't Go as Planned

I'm sorry it didn't go as planned.
Those four years of specified learning in your art didn't equal a performing job right out of college.
Senior year pride, encouraging compliments, professional auditions, and imaging a future on stage
didn't create your reality this year.
I'm sorry.

I'm sorry it didn't go as planned.
I know you expected that graduation made you an on-your-own adult.
You worked towards a goal of moving away from a place you used to call home.
Reality often twists our fantasies of how we wanted life to be.
Moving back home this year was where reality brought you.
I'm sorry.

I'm sorry it didn't go as planned.
Your first romantic relationship didn't sparkle like in the movies.
He was not what you expected in your imagination.
A great friend for you doesn't always equal a great husband for you.
While your stories did separate in a healthy way, it still is sad.
I'm sorry.

But

I'm glad it didn't go as planned.
Those four years of learning your art developed you in so many ways.
Your gifts improved, but so did your confidence, love for the Lord, leadership skills, and self-discovery.
Your future will appear on various stages in this life, both under the spotlight and in the brilliance of the sun.
College prepared you for more than just performing.

I'm glad it didn't go as planned.
You are an adult, but in different ways than you thought.
"Adulting" is more of being than doing.
Returning home provided you with a job promotion, leadership opportunities, a band to worship with, new friendships, and the blessing of living with a loving family when disaster struck the world. I wouldn't have changed those blessings for you.

I'm glad it didn't go as planned.
You gained an Indiana best friend when you needed a reason to stay.
Through that relationship you learned how to be bold, honest, open with your thoughts, flexible, and how to invest wholeheartedly in someone else's life.
Although it didn't lead all the way to commitment, that relationship pushed you to blossom in new ways.

I'm sorry it didn't go as planned.
I'm sorry that sometimes you are sad while looking back at "what could have been".
I'm sorry that those imaginings didn't become reality.

But I'm glad it happened the way it did.



"A man’s heart plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps." ~Proverbs 16:9

Grow Where You're Planted

Grow where you're planted.
It can be so easy to start a new chapter with a romanticized expectancy.
Life after graduation is supposed to be filled to the brim with unexplored possibilities.
The world awaits to be influenced with your new found knowledge wrapped in a diploma.
The garden is tilled and ready for your flower to shine.

Grow where you're planted.
You don't get to choose which plot you land on.
The Gardener picks a forgotten corner in the midst of a cornfield.
The world that seemed so vast is now scrunched into a place that you never thought you'd return to.
The garden is smaller than you expected it would be.

Grow where you're planted.
You refuse to put down roots.
The allure of a more interesting future deters commitment to where you already are.
Only giving seventy-five percent effort doesn't produce a flowering plant.
The garden is more than a temporary placement.

Grow where you're planted.
The Gardener continues to gently prod you to blossom.
He provides you with sun-shining opportunities to get involved in.
He provides you with rain-refreshing relationships to invest in.
The garden is suited for your needs.

Grow where you're planted.
In a moment of painful honesty, the garden seems more important than before.
The wide world may be new and exciting, but the corner in the cornfield has its joys.
In a season of transition, roots begin to intertwine with others in the soil of your story.
The garden is made for more than one flower.

Grow where you're planted.
The Gardener knew all along that this was where you needed to be.
He carefully tilled the soil to prepare a spot just for you to shine.
He crafted the garden to teach you where you needed to bloom better.
The garden is a bed of influence and a training ground.

Grow where you're planted.
Maybe one day you will move to a bigger plot of land.
But for now the corner in the cornfield is exactly where you need to be.
Maybe one day a new adventure will begin but for now I'll
Grow where I'm planted.

Just Here

     "So now that you've graduated from college, what are your plans?"

     This is the question that comes up in most conversations that I have nowadays. I have answered it so many times that my response has become automated.

     "Well, I plan to start my online Masters Program in July and then I would like to move in the Fall. But for right now I am just here, working at Chick-fil-A to save money."

     This response usually gets a nod of approval and the description of how difficult and unpleasant living in the "real world" is.

     This dialogue isn't wrong. It is so nice to have others interested in where my life goes next and it has been great to catch up with people from my hometown. This unexpected return home for a season has brought about some lovely moments and opportunities. Here's my issue.

I keep catching myself saying that I am "just here". 

     I am just here until I can save money. I am just here for the foreseeable future. I am just here waiting for something better to come along.

     In my excited anticipation for the next chapter in my life, I have been downplaying the one I am in. I am eagerly wanting to live on my own and to work in the field that I just learned all about in college. However, the opportunity to do that hasn't arrived yet. Other recent graduates have started to step out on their own. Others have gotten married, or started a career in their major, or moved to a new city, and I am just here.

     Here's the thing. I am never just here. That is not the way God works. The Lord is the orchestrator and organizer of all life! He has His people in specific places so that they can impact specific people. I may be where I am for just a season (and that season may be longer than I would like) but I AM HERE!

I am here because I prayed for where the Lord wanted me to go after I graduated 

college and this was the best option for me at that time. 

I am here because I have a great job at Chick-fil-A, and they were so excited to have me back! 

I am here to spend extended time with my family before time becomes a luxury. 

I am here because I get to serve on my worship team every Sunday 

with the musical creativity that the Lord has given me. 

I am here to learn from my parents about the complexities of the working world 

and how to be wise once I leave the comforts of home. 

I am here to encourage my co-workers and make the monotony of work a little bit more exciting. 

I am here so that I can save money to help ensure that the transition to 

living on my own will run smoothly. 

I am here to influence people in Indiana in unique ways that the Lord puts in front of me. 

     The Lord doesn't make mistakes when He writes His stories of human beings. This transition season of life (which I have humorously called my "Encore Summer") is a special chapter of its own. Just like every other period of my little life, it will be filled with victories, disappointments, lots of learning, and the chance to connect with others.

     I challenge you, my friend. To not be so enveloped with the desire to know what comes next that you forget that you are where you are for a reason. If you are feeling discouraged because your current circumstances are not exactly what you would like them to be, take a moment to pray about why you are here. The Lord can remind you and use you where you are at.

I am here. In a few months, I may be somewhere else. Only He knows. 

But for now, I am here. 

From the Microwave to the Oven

The Road goes ever on and on,

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the Road has gone,

And I must follow, if I can,

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way

Where many paths and errands meet.

And whither then? I cannot say.

~J.R.R. Tolkien

     Four years ago, I didn't want to come to Bryan College. Now, I wouldn't want to change it for the world!

     It is amazing when you look back and see how different your life could have been if you had made a different decision. If I had gone to another college, I would not have had made all the friends that I have made at Bryan. If I had not been a Musical Theatre major, I would not have had the same influence at school or the opportunities to perform in fabulous shows. If I had not gone through specific difficult circumstances over the past four years, I would not be the person I am today!

     Bryan College has been quite an experience! Some of my best days and some of my worst days have been at this school. I have struggled through grief, heartbreak, and stress. I have been given the wonderful gifts of friendship, performances, and victories! These past four years have greatly influenced and shaped who I am.

Yet, all beautiful things must come to an end. This chapter has come to a close. 

     Now a new chapter has begun and I am not quite sure that I am ready for it. The working world is filled with stress, planning, and complications that I now have to learn how to navigate. It can be overwhelming at times.Thankfully, being home has allowed me to have the time to be taught and trained by my loving parents. It has also given me time to save for whatever comes next. This wouldn't have been the case if I had found an internship like I had originally planned.

     Although I am overwhelmed in this new phase of life, I am underwhelmed also. I didn't know that it was possible to feel both at the same time! College life moves at such a crazy speed that the rest of the world doesn't follow. I had gotten so used to the pace of college that the working world seems to move so slowly. My dad fittingly described it as going from "living life in a microwave to moving to the oven"! Changing to fit this new speed has been an adjustment.

To think, it has only been a week since I graduated from college!

     In that week, there have been a lot of learning curves, reality checks, and goal evaluations. In that week, I have come up with dozens of scenarios of what could come next. In that week, I have struggled with the balance of planning ahead and still trusting the Lord with one day at a time.

     Yet, God is good. God is faithful. God is my provider just as He has been throughout all of college. No matter where I am or where I go my relationship with Him will always be my constant in the midst of life's transitions. This transition from "the microwave to the oven" will be confusing and rocky, but it will also be filled with new adventures, new explorations, and the promise of the Lord's faithfulness no matter where I am! Here we go on a new Road!