I've Never Been So Tired

I was hired on Friday, August 6th, 2010 as a first grade teacher. I signed my contract the following Monday, frantically set things up in my room, organized and rearranged, attended teacher inservice and workshops... and started school on August 31. A mere 25 days later. I went from "substitute teacher" to "first grade teacher." It all happened that fast.

I have never been so tired in my entire life. I mean, really... I thought I was tired in high school. Getting to school by 8:05, leaving 7 1/2 entire hours later after having a mere 25 minute lunch break and only ONE study hall, if that. I had from 3:30 to bed to finish a little homework, attend a student council meeting, practice violin or piano or what-have-you, etc. etc. Not to mention developing my reputation and having time with friends. How exhausting.

Then came college. Even though I only had 3-4 classes a day, I had SO much studying to do. Work, exercise, studying, class, time with friends... what an exhausting schedule. It was hard work to sit in class and take notes, pay attention, and really learn something.

And then I started teaching.

I get to school before 7am some days. I work frantically to get as much done as I can before kids come at 8:05. I spend my lunch hour grading papers, my prep hour cleaning up the mess in my room, and the class periods making sure 23 six and seven year olds are learning as much as they possibly can... because ultimately my name goes on their transcript. I am responsible.

I spend hours and hours after school planning the most strategic lessons, only to realize that when 23 first graders are involved, there is never a perfect strategy.

I go to sleep thinking about my student that told me he hadn't had supper the night before or breakfast the morning of. Or trying to figure out the little one who awkwardly flails his arms or grapevines down the hallway when we walk to any different part of the building. Or the girl who started crying and wouldn't talk when I asked her high and low of the day. Or the boy who told me he thought he was a loser and that it was OK as long as he wasn't in middle school. Or the boy who crawled up on the sink to start washing his hands and the next time I looked over he had his entire head under the water. Or the boy who drew a picture of his mom on one side of the paper, his dad on the other, and him in the middle with incredibly long stretching arms joining the two, and then telling me his writing story was a very sad one to tell.

I try to figure out how I can meet their needs, show them they are loved, communicate to them that they are valued, and then somehow teach them to read and write at or above grade level.

I try to be a loving wife that does laundry and makes dinner and washes the dishes when I get home from a PTA meeting after a long day at school.

And in the end, I have to remember that I may try as hard as I can... but Jesus is the one who is the healer of all broken things. Sometimes I feel broken, sometimes my students are broken, but God is never broken. He is perfect and sustains all life. I don't need to be in control, because He is in control. I can be tired, and that is ok.

And in recognition of that... I can sleep in peace.