The last day of school. Good God. Even though the last couple of weeks have been the easiest of the year, with no SOLs to prepare for, no lessons to plan, and far less stress about paperwork than everyone else has been feeling, I’m exhausted. I should have left school today jubilant, exultant, singing to the heavens, wriggling with joy. Instead, with every mile I put between me and the school, my mood darkened and my brow lowered. I could read the signs: I was brooding. And have been since I left.
.
And I have better indication, ironically, than I’ve ever had on any other last day because I am going to be contacted by Central Corp. for a second interview. I never wrote about that, I realize. Other things crowding my mind, I suppose. Yeah, the day after I wrote that journal entry during Spring Break about job-hunting oh-so-reluctantly with Mom, Central Corp. returned my call and invited me in for an interview the next week, and that interview was smashing. My, how I’ve grown in two years. I don’t even recognize myself now. And my worry aboutnot being able to distinguish between a job I wanted on its own merit and one I just saw as an escape was nullified. I want this job. I want to work for this company. I want to be a member of this family. And as the weeks wore on after the interview, I also came to realize that what I had at one time thought was my ideal job – College Textbook Sales Representative – for which I really would be perfect, was actually not so perfect for me. I don’t want to have anything even remotely connected to education, even college education. I shouldn’t have to devote one more iota of my energy to education when I get a new job and am released.
.
I have done enough. I have served my sentence, done my time, without complaint for many months, and I am due for parole. It’s time for me to rejoin the human race. And I truly believe I have earned Central Corp.
.
So why should I be brooding? I think part of it is I am so ready for my life to change, for all these countless seeds I have been faithfully planting to begin sprouting. I honestly don’t remember what it’s like to have fun in my life or to look forward to my life. I know now what it is to have faith that something good is in store, but the feeling of experiencing it in the here and now has been harder to find in the last two years than Sasquatch. I’m ready to know what it’s like not to have to marshal my forces every damn morning, not to dread my life, not to be alone in this. So part of my brooding is that readiness.
.
But most of it, I think, is just plain exhaustion. I think, now that I don’t have to muster the troops for tomorrow, and then another tomorrow, and still another tomorrow, now that I’ve reached my last tomorrow, the sheer mass of the year is now crashing down on me. I’m allowed now to really feel just how hard this year has been.
.
But through that diamond-hard weariness is the truth of which I can be proud.
.
This year has yielded a lot of harvest. This past year has taught me to suffer in silence and alone. How to be stoic where I once was whining. I know what it is to fail and not give up, to fail and get back up and try again tomorrow, to fail and get back up and try again tomorrow, to fail and get back up and try again tomorrow. I know now what it is to keep falling short of the mark and still see the worth in my efforts, to still see the integrity of my purpose – not to be a great teacher or impact these children’s lives, but to honor and glorify God, to obey what he has told me to do. I know now, as I never did, that the commandment to love your enemies is not a suggestion and isn’t always defined by those who hate you. Sometimes it’s those you yourself hate. I learned what it is to struggle with hatred that just wouldn’t go away and let God show me how to show love even when I didn’t feel it, because he loves them.
.
I know, because of this year, how to believe. When all fails and sight is gone and there’s nothing to believe in anymore, to yet believe. I have learned how strong I am and how much stronger God is. I can stand and fight and be stubborn and not give in. I’ve seen worth in what I’ve thought worthless and hope when hope had run out.
.
I have discovered my name and my purpose. I know my identity in Christ and for the first time understood that Jesus dying and rising again wasn’t just to save me from a life of sin. That never had the impact on me it had on others who’d crawled the green mile of life. I was a goody-two-shoes raised in a bubble – what great sin had I ever managed to get into? But because he did what he did, I have God’s Spirit in me always, even when I fall short of the mark for the four-hundredth time and just don’t see how to do better. I never have to be separated from God by anything now, which is so very essential. I couldn’t do all this without him. I wouldn’t still be breathing on this earth if not for him staying close by my side.
.
I’ve learned that when my resources are low and all is dark and the last feeling has fled and I feel so alone, I can still be absolutely certain God is right there, so close he is breathing on me in the blackness. That is huge – that my faith and my feelings can diverge and after thirty years, my faith wins out.
.
I know now what it is to stand on what I know in my heart in the face of 360˚ opposition, and not back down.
.
Yes, I have seen worth in the worthless and I will continue to see more worth emerge for the rest of my life from this worthless career. I have been changed, callused from my trek in the wilderness which is probably not over yet, and my family and my people will benefit from that for generations to come.
.
So let the brooding, bone-deep exhaustion wash over me. It’ll end and I’ll still be here, waiting for the first bloom to finally show.
No comments:
Post a Comment