Day 8: On Perspective

This week has been a surprisingly good one. Might have something to do with the fact that there are only four work days that make it up. But I also think I feel better after unloading what I did in yesterday's post--both in writing and also in conversation with my supervisor. Putting those thoughts out in the universe have somehow given me some peace and clarity about what it is I'm doing. I feel like I might have finally started to climb out of the rut I have been sitting in for the last month or so. I am trying to change my perspective and begin to enjoy again the work that I do. To find joy in it.

For example, today I created the outline of a boat with masking tape on the rug in my classroom. Two classes of four year olds climbed aboard and we told the story of Jesus calming the storm (rain stick and wind/thunder sound effects included). Now, granted that is a little silly and absurd, but given the right perspective, it also kind of awesome. The kids had fun. I had fun. They understood the story by stepping into it.

Today I also started a new unit with my fourth grade classes on Psalms. For the past two years, during Lent, I have taught an adult Bible study on the psalms of lament and on the ways in which these psalms can be used as a point of access to the sufferings of Jesus and to our own human condition. Since my fourth graders are studying the Hebrew Scriptures all year anyway, I decided to adapt this Lenten study to their age level by letting this be our primary means of studying the psalms. This morning, after teaching the first fourth grade class, I realized how much I truly love this topic. I suddenly considered the possibility of writing it down someday in more systematic fashion...i.e., letting it be the inaugural edition of a Beth Moore-esque empire of b-stud curricula I will one day pen (one of my many life plans). It feels really good to believe so strongly in something that you are teaching. And it is a good reminder for me to note that everything I'm teaching to my kids, be it through an imaginary boat ride or an in-depth look at the darkest of psalmic prayers, everything I teach (despite myself, more often than not) can be a point of entry for these children to know God and themselves a little better. And that may not be world-changing. And there may be more important work to be done--that I could be doing. I don't doubt that one bit. But I do have my whole life to discover what that is and to go do it. For now, this is where I am. I am so thankful and privileged to be the teacher of all 300 of those stinkin' kids I see each week. And there is some good being done in it. Perhaps a great deal of good for some. This is the perspective I want to maintain.