JB and I were wrapping up our evening with some good conversation about our days when a familiar truth hit me (as these things often do)- Don’t wish away any season.
Our little family is in the midst of our busiest season yet. Both JB and I are working full-time, JB is weeks away from finishing his Master’s degree in education, he is head coach of a Varsity girls soccer team at a local high school, and we have our two precious kiddos.
This is a season I absolutely dreaded last year. It gave me chest pain, just thinking about it. And then a week before it was all supposed to start, schools were closed and seasons were cancelled. This past year has come with a lot of disappointments and stresses, but also a lot of rest for us.
Where we were at a year ago- approaching the birth of our baby boy, secluded in our home- was a beautiful season because God was in it. And this season- teaching in masks, spending most of our days pouring into others until we hit the pillow (often at very different times)...this is also a beautiful season.
I’ve been finding myself daydreaming about summer. I tend to do this, and I don’t think I’m the only one. At this time of year when the winter breakup is at its worst (just imagine sloshy, dirty ice piles and puddles) and students long to be free of classroom expectations, it’s easy for me as a teacher to look ahead and wish these days away.
I drive to work, excited that it’s finally light out during my commute, but feeling an ache in my heart thinking about the time I am losing with my kids. But then I remind myself that I’m just weeks away from spending all day with them.
I go 24 hours without seeing my husband conscious because we are on staggered schedules where I am having to wake up really early, and he is needing to stay up late. And when I feel that longing to connect with him through quality time, I remind myself that soccer season will be done before we know it.
I take care of the kids every evening and throughout the majority of the weekend while JB does his Master’s assignments, and I cling to the idea that in just a matter of weeks, we will have our weekends back as a family of four and all will be well.
Now, none of this daydreaming is inherently wrong. And having a light at the end of this tiring tunnel...I need that! But on a deep level, this season is not one to just try to fast-forward through.
The hard moments are rich with learning. The moments where I’m so stressed, my body tells me to slow down and rest. Those aren’t bad. In the moments where I can’t keep my eyes open as I rock with my sweet Ethan or Emma early in the evening, I am reminded that God gave me strength through another day and will provide tomorrow. When the alarm clock goes off at an obnoxious time and I have to stir my snoozing kids from their cribs, I’m learning to not idolize sleep for myself and my kids. It’s okay that we’re getting less sleep during the week.
And when the laundry piles up, I can continually try to exercise a balance of priorities and let it go until the weekend.
This week, I have been reminded of God’s strength through my weakness. I don’t need to have it all together. I know that can sound like such a cliché, but I can so often place that expectation on myself to do everything perfectly. Does anyone else? Do you ever get frustrated with yourself for not being “stronger” and for not being able to balance all the things better? I constantly expect myself to be able to do it all- be an incredible teacher, be an amazing wife and mom, etc.. But where are those definitions coming from anyways? What makes an “incredible” teacher, or an “amazing” wife and mom?
Perfection? Nope.
It’s okay to have limitations. It’s not possible to give 100% to everything in life at the same time. This week, I have once again faced the constant battle I hear from so many other teachers, too: the self-doubt. Am I doing enough? Are my students learning anything? Do I even know how to be a good teacher? Will I have enough students next year to keep my program?
All these questions have been coursing through my mind, on top of wanting to be present with my little ones and with my hard-working husband when he gets home after the kids’ bedtime each night.
It took a beautiful conversation with my dear twin to realize that I was making things so much harder because I was placing unnecessary expectations on myself. And then I was condemning myself when I wasn’t living up to what I felt I should be doing.
Ah feelings. Always so reliable…
The truth is, things have to give. We balance the balls- plastic and glass- every day. Certain balls can be dropped. I have to constantly remind myself of that. And I am a perfectionist, which leads to a warped view of the quality of work I do- whether at home or in the orchestra classroom. I often need people around me to help me see that I’m doing a good job. But it’s something I pray about all the time, too. Lord, help me to get out of my head. Satan can’t take this. Help me to focus on my students and to do the best job I can. It’s not a performance, and it’s not going to be perfect because none of us are.
My goal as a teacher is to show my students that they matter. They are loved. They are cared about.
Yes, I really want them to enjoy playing their instruments. And yes, I totally have a strong sense of competition and drive. And I put pressure on myself that because I was a performance major, I need to be the best orchestra teacher that ever walked the planet.
So...some expectations are still in the adjustment process.
But why would I wish away a season where I am facing these things and bringing them to Jesus?
You see, every day has purpose. Every interaction, every morning that the alarm clock goes off. Even in the moments where things feel impossible or frustrating, or I’m running on empty- I can mope and get bitter (which yeah, that’s totally my default reaction), or I can pray and ask God to work through the situation- to teach me something. To open my eyes to His reality.
It doesn’t mean I’ll magically feel fantastic and that I’ll be giddy to wake my baby up at 5:45 to feed him before I leave, but it’s a step of faith. And God honors that.
So as the snow turns into puddles and all the dog poop appears in the backyard (yup, that was quite the sight to see this evening!), I do think about summer with a smile. But I recognize it will come with its own set of life things.
Our family will need to adjust to a new rhythm with our day’s schedules, and to the fact that both Mama and Dada are there. We will have work obligations sometimes. And we will still have diapers to change and meals to prepare. Summer isn’t the Promised Land; neither is marriage, graduation, retirement, the promotion, having a baby, being the “ideal weight”, or anything in between.
Heaven is waiting for those of us who believe in Jesus and follow Him. No matter where my emotions take me in a daydream, nothing compares to the excitement I feel over that. This sure, beautiful eternity that radiates perfection- and not this mustered-up, gotta-stay-strong-and-push-through standard we hold ourselves to, but complete and utter acceptance and holiness that begins and ends with His love for us...I can’t wait for that!
Thank You, Jesus!
