I recently was asked this question….

“Were you born crazy, or did you decide to become crazy when signing up to be a teacher?”

My answer was that I was both….and I laughed it away.

Later that night, the question hit me again.  Am I crazy? After all, according to dictionary.com, there are thirteen different definitions for the word crazy.  Crazy can mean demented, insane, senseless, impractical, or mentally deranged. It can also mean passionately excited, infatuated, wonderful, or intensely enthusiastic.

In the second grade I felt a nudge in my heart from God.  He clearly told me that I was going to be a teacher when I grew up.  From that moment on, every path I chose had me running toward a teaching degree.  Every job I had, every class I took, every extra curricular I chose; all were chosen with this purpose in mind.

As I have now entered my tenth year of teaching, I will be quite honest in saying I have had many conversations with God about this calling. I have questioned my ability and my effectiveness in this profession.  I have even questioned if I am truly crazy. This profession, this mission field, this path, has changed tremendously.  It’s not as cut and dry as it used to be.  Teachers now have to worry about safety for themselves and their students, they have to worry about different types of situations, and they have to worry about the tests and standards they must rise above daily.  From an outsiders perspective, those of us in this profession probably do seem a little crazy.  If I were looking from the outside in, I probably would as well.

So; am I crazy?  Yes. I am crazy.  I am called.  I have been called to be a part of this crazy world of education.  I will continue to be so until God decides otherwise.

What world of crazy have you been called into?  Hang in there.  It’s the crazy calling you were meant to be a part of!

This is my tenth year of teaching.  The first four years of my career were spent in Kindergarten.  This is my sixth year of teaching fourth grade.  Some of the funniest moments of my teaching career occurred during the four years I spent in the Kindergarten classroom.  The following story is probably one of my top five.

 

Each day I took my students on two large group bathroom breaks.  One in the morning and one in the afternoon. I had a restroom in my classroom, so the students were able to go in individually when needed.  One glorious Kindergarten morning, my class embarked on the journey to the bathroom. I sent the students into the restroom three at a time in order to reduce the amount of monkeying around.  It is amazing how much time one kindergarten student can spend in the restroom.

 

When I had most of my students out of the restroom, I told the remaining few students that we were headed back to the classroom.  They understood that this meant they needed to hurry up and return to class.  Within a few minutes everyone was back in the classroom working on their alphabet pages.  Except one.  One boy, notorious for dilly dallying, was still not back.  I waited five more minutes; still no student.  I asked my teaching neighbor to watch my classroom as I went down to the bathroom to investigate.

 

Now, with this being a boy student, I could not physically go into the restroom to see what the hold up might be.  So, I stood at the door of the restroom and sternly asked the little boy what was taking so long.  He hesitated for a few seconds and then blessed me with this response, “I’m stuck!”  Trying to stifle my laughter, I asked him what he meant.  He told me it was hard to explain. With having no other option, I located the male custodian in the building, and asked him if he would go into the restroom to help my stranded pupil.  He obliged and headed in.

 

A few minutes passed with muffled talking, and then the custodian emerged from the restroom. I could tell he was doing his best to not laugh hysterically.  I asked him what had happened, and this was his tale.

 

Male custodian.  “I walked into the restroom and saw two feet dangling from the stool in the stall.  I asked the student what was wrong, and the student explained that he had to poop.  In order to do so, he had removed his pants and underpants.  When the student tried to put his underpants back on, he managed to twist them; therefore entangling his feet and ankles.  He couldn’t figure out how to untangle his underpants, and was therefore stuck on the commode until a rescuer came to his aid.”

 

I thanked the superhero for helping my student as the student emerged from the bathroom. This precious student looked at me with thankfulness in his eyes.  He then said to me, “Mrs. Law, I thought I was stuck in there forever.  All I could think about was how I would get food!” He smiled at me and headed back to the classroom.  I had to compose myself from laughing so hard before I could walk back in to my room.

 

This story, as funny as it is, got me to thinking.  What is it that entangles us?  What keeps us from being able to move forward?  What is keeping you from chasing a dream, or heading in the direction that you want to head? Are you waiting for someone to come help you untangle yourself, or are you able to figure it out and move forward?  Whatever is entangling you today, whatever is stopping you from moving forward, I hope you find the strength to untangle it on your own, or reach out to a superhero for help.

“It’s not the strength of the body that counts, but the strength of the spirit.” J.R.R. Tolkien

Strength.  What does this word mean?  What does this word immediately cause you to picture?  Some may picture the body builders who stand on stage and flex their muscles.  Some may picture the people who enjoy lifting weights at the gym.  Still others may picture someone with emotional strength.

This idea of strength has been on my mind so much lately.  Some of the strongest people in my life probably can’t bench press more than fifty pounds (myself included here).  However, their inner strength is far beyond what I could ever imagine.  I have incredible friends, family, and acquaintances that have done incredible things.  They continue with their day to day lives while battling inner battles, physical ailments, and conditions that don’t necessarily show outwardly.  They have adopted children, fostered children, and sadly had to deal with losing children.   They pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and keep going.

I also have the privilege of being an educator who watches demonstrations of strength on a daily basis.  If you haven’t ever had the opportunity to sit and watch while a child learns something new, try it sometime (in a non-creepy sort of way).  I have watched tears of frustration flow down cheeks as students have been frustrated with a task.  I have watched students walk across a full room to speak to someone who is alone.  I have watched students stand up for others.  I have watched students thrive in unthinkable situations.  All of these moments take incredible strength.

My students often aren’t aware that I am taking the time to just observe their moments of strength. Many of them probably don’t even realize they are exhibiting the characteristic of strength.  But they are.  And they are inspiring me every day to muster up strength to do something that I wouldn’t ordinarily do.

So, what does strength mean to you?  Go and do something that takes strength…whether that be physical, emotional, or mental.  Start to watch for examples of strength in your daily life.  Take a look in the mirror. You are stronger than you think.