As a high school English teacher, one of the questions I’ve been asked is, “What will school look like in the fall?” Unfortunately, my answer remains the same: “I don’t know.”
Even if I was privy to any insider conversations (which I’m not), the nature of COVID-19 has made it difficult for anyone to make any firm predictions about the future. Like most, we are being told to be ready to pivot as circumstances change.
And guess what?
It’s hard.
I can’t personally recall a time when my life has felt so unsettled and my future plans so elusive. Thus, trying to stay calm and take it one step at a time–particularly when I have multiple variables that have to adjust with each new step– is hard. This is especially true when my minds processes all the what ifs:
What if online learning somehow undoes a student’s academic progress? What if traditional learning results in a child’s death? What if there are indeed health consequences (mental or otherwise) from wearing a mask? What if rooms don’t get cleaned as planned? What if there is another spike that affects me personally? What if I get sick, and I can’t manage any changes that brings? What if my children get sick, and it affects them more harshly? What if I put my trust in others, and they let me down?
For me, however, most of these questions come down to my desire for control.
Control has been my “go to” for survival for years. With five active kids, a full-time job, and multiple responsibilities, I find it necessary to plan, strategize, and… get answers quickly. And honestly, when others haven’t followed these precise rules, my habit to date has been to leave (or in some cases, to jump ship) so that my control remains.
This morning, however, I was reminded of the better way. In Luke 10, 38-42, it tells the story of Martha and Mary:
Jesus entered a village where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying.
But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.’
But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.’
Like Martha, I rely on the sense control that comes with doing and preparing. Like Martha, I desire the people around me to be doing more to make my life feel controlled. And unfortunately, this need for control carries over into my teaching and my expectations for everyone around me.
What I realized this morning, however, is that I’ve been so distracted by my own agenda and quest for control that I almost lost sight of the incredible opportunity before me this year.
The truth is that the uncontrolled and imperfect nature of this time actually provides the perfect and precise moment to grow spiritually and learn from God how to teach with a capital T:
He will Teach me to let go of my illusions of control;
He will Teach me to grow in the exercise of prudence—one rooted not in worldly objectives but my eternal destination;
He will Teach me when to speak and when to stay silent;
He will Teach me to care for–and PURELY love–those in front of me each day.
So yes, this time is hard. This year will be hard. And I imagine it will be filled with multiple missteps along the way.
But I choose to also trust it will provide the perfect teachable moment to learn at the greatest Teacher’s feet.
Beautifully written post Krissie. You expressed a very important aspect of our daily walk so well. The fact that we can all be like Martha at times is common and it is only when we pause in His presence can we fully experience His grace.
Thanks so much for commenting. I think the key word you used is indeed grace. We all need it for sure, especially in difficult times.