Five Minute Friday: Worship

Today we are joining Lisa-Jo Baker for her Five Minute Friday. Here is what she has to say about it:

This is where a brave and beautiful bunch gather every week to find out what comes out when we all spend five minutes writing on the same topic and then sharing ‘em over here.

Rules:

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes on: WORSHIP

I am the only grown up in the room. Other than me, nine smiling faces, aged three through five fight over play dough  share building blocks and make endless circles on scrap paper. They roar with the dinosaurs and hammer the house center a little bit too aggressively  but hey, that's how you hammer something, isn't it?

Every day, every minute, I learn something new. How it is hard to share your favorite Max Steel toy, when you can't even go to bed without it. How it is a drag to have to stop to go to the toilet when you are in a world of princesses and pirates. How the same book with a handful of pages can have a mesmerizing effect on you for weeks.

And how the human heart is made for song. Put on some music in an Early Childhood Education class and you will have no doubt that we were made to sing, to praise, to hum. Silence is overrated. 

Yet, somewhere along the way we lose this. We become all serious business people and singing is demoted to car trips and washing dishes. It becomes unnatural. Contrived. So I ask you Lord, to bring it back into my life. Let me sing as I pick up counters from the floor or teach little ones to brush their teeth. As I enjoy a sunny day or mope over cleaning spilled juice. Let's all praise Him. All. the. time.

Instamonth Day 1

Hasten, O God, to save me;

    come quickly, Lord, to help me.

May those who want to take my life

    be put to shame and confusion;

may all who desire my ruin

    be turned back in disgrace.

 

May those who say to me, “Aha! Aha!”

    turn back because of their shame.

 

But may all who seek you

    rejoice and be glad in you;

may those who long for your saving help always say,

    “The Lord is great!”

But as for me, I am poor and needy;

    come quickly to me, O God.

You are my help and my deliverer;

    Lord, do not delay.

                Psalm 70, NIV

Learning to ask for help

In January I started a new job, at a new school. It was kind of exciting because I really liked the methodology, the curriculum and the age group, and kind of intimidating because I would have a new job description, students younger than I ever worked with, and staff to handle. All in all, I figured it would be a busy year with a steep learning curve for me.

Things started out a bit wobbly, and I ended up being the only employee for almost a month. As we got children enrolled, we started hiring staff, one at a time. We now have a teacher, two assistants and a secretary, all whose jobs were being done by me a couple of months ago.

As I see our growth and understand the growing pains that comes with it, I kept thinking this was the time to be selfless and go above and beyond. Come to think of it, that’s how I’ve always been.

Until I realized my selfless-ness on the job meant selfishness at home, in my marriage and with my family. I seldom had time for them, and when I did, chances was I was too tired or unfocused. I cannot tell you how many dinners I had with my husband in which the topic of conversation was my job.

So I breathed in, found some courage, and asked for help. I figured my boss would say there was no way she could help me, I knew what I had gotten into, and secretly think I am useless, and how long does she still need to put up with me.

Boy, was I wrong. She was nothing but helpful. She helped figure out a way to have a whole half of my working day in the office, to get stuff done. We talked about staffing needs and she got the ball rolling on that. And I saw that my need to prove myself as a ‘do-it-all’ was unfounded.

I only wish I had figured it out sooner. I had the perception that working in a school was like that, and that is why teachers have more vacation than anyone, to recover. Now I realize I made myself work to the ground so many times because I was too afraid to ask help from my assistant, or too proud to tell my boss I was drowning.

Closure

Last Friday I experienced something I didn’t know I lacking, but needed: closure. You probably read me rambling about some decisions I made in the past year. The truth is, although I told myself to accept my own decisions and not look back, I couldn’t help but do it. All the time.

To be a bit more specific, I left a job I loved. A community I love, because schools are more than just work environments. You meet fantastic people, big and small (literally) and they can’t help but touch your life.

My main issue was that I never thought I would actually leave. I was well adapted, confident in how well I was doing and very much dreaming about staying until retirement rolled around. And then, through several events and circumstances, I had to make the decision to leave. It didn’t feel much like a choice, it felt like an obligation.

I cannot express the support I got from my coworkers and supervisors. You see, I didn’t only leave; I left in the middle of the school year. I felt like a traitor. A deserter.  And they showed me love that made me see they thought nothing of the like about me.

Last week I got to go back. I secretly wanted to, but felt awkward about it. Thankfully, I got an invitation from my former boss to come, because my kids needed closure. So I went, loaded with home baked sugar cookies made with love.

I left home at 5.45am and took an hour and a half to get there. Nice reminder of why it just didn’t work. But as soon as I turned onto the main street that leads to the school, the waterworks began. I met my former coworkers outside and again, couldn’t help it. Went inside and saw some more teachers and my former boss, and again the tears flowed.

I managed to hold it when I was with the kids. All smiles. All about happiness. And they blew me away. Some were so much bigger after three months. Some were more mature. And they blew me away with their enthusiasm, love and behavior.

Their new teacher is fantastic, and the only reason why I considered leaving was because I knew she could step in. She told the kids to ask me questions, and I froze. Why did you leave us? Do you not love us? was going through my mind. None of that. They wanted to know about my new school, new students, and got a huge laugh to know that I am now surrounded by little kids and being called Miss Julie instead of Mrs. Jordão.

The best gift a teacher could ever get: a box full of lovely cards, which I'll treasure forever!

I am not sure they needed closure. Kids are resilient. Grownups, not so much. That’s why I was so thankful, because this half an hour truly allowed me to see that life goes on. And that although all kids are special, these will forever have a special place in my heart. Every single one of them.