in the midst
August 10, 2014
In the midst of a stress-filled workday, consumed by my worries over not being prepared enough, qualified enough, mentally ready, for the first week of school, I am comforted by your email. The thought of you, better and better-ing, eases my heart and gives a much-needed dose of reality – reminding that the real things of importance go so much deeper than the school day deadlines.
I wrote these words in an email this week. The words were true, and from the heart. The manner in which I wrote them, however, I must admit to have been rushed . . . and as much “in the midst” of that stress as I was trying to write to counteract. Knowledge, you see, so far as how frazzled I feel, does not seem to equate to an ability to counter that frazzled-ness. So I find myself wondering: how do you maintain sanity in the middle of it? Or, perhaps, if you must become insane, how to you do so in a manner true to who you really are, insane and all? The reason I’m thinking about this , in this particular fashion, is that some of the time I suspect that people end up sucked into others’ stresses and, at times, even, running in circles with the rest of the crowd without necessarily accomplishing much of anything. So how, I wonder, do you maintain a firm grasp on what exactly is your responsibility? What should you focus on? What do you do best?
Lately, I’ve been struggling with a severe sense of inadequacy. I look around me at the teachers I work with and wonder how in the world they manage to get everything in order so seemingly effortlessly? But after struggling with that feeling for some time, with no one else catching on to my comparative inability, another question enters my mind. Is it possible that others are laboring under the same sense of inadequacy as well? What if we are just all in this figuring-things-out game together? And the more I mull over this suspicion, the more likely it begins to feel to me.
Perhaps, just now, on this Sunday evening, my particular responsibility [considering the fact that lesson plans are in order and classroom set up, so far as I can tell] is to sit with my husband. Perhaps I should focus on repenting for the impatience I have displayed as I let my stress out on the one who least deserves it. Perhaps what I can do best is to be the quirky, creative soul that He made me to be, and not try to figure out who else I should try to be . . .
In the meantime, the sun sets outside our home. Standing over the sink, washing the last of our dinner dishes, I see the glow. « Ah, » I think, getting my camera to snap the shot. « This makes it all worthwhile . . . »