he lets you drag yourself through the trenches and then delivers you to a sunny beach where there is a gentle breeze, waves lapping at your feet, and an adult beverage at your side. Intrigued? Read on.
Disappointment. Anger. Frustration. Betrayal. They took hold of me when I was not granted tenure-track at a law school where I had taught for a few years. Not that I was surprised. There were a number of professors who wanted to see me fail. Perhaps because I was young, energetic, had a lot of ideas, and wanted things to change for the better. Or maybe it was because I had a lot of good hair days. Who knows.
So I moved on to another school where I was the head of two departments. If I had been paid enough, I would have had a massage therapist on salary because my stress level was consistently near the self-implode level. Not only was my workload that of two professors, I got to work with people who hired me to be an expert, but would not listen to my advice even when they asked for it. I am certain this is similar to what a parent of twin teenage girls must experience.
At this point, I figured my third teaching experience would be amazing, remarkable. The kind I would tell stories about to my children for years. I would say things like, “I remember when a student told me how much she appreciated . . . ” and “A student once told me about how I made a difference in her life when I . . .” Instead my stories turned out to be more like, “I remember when a student sent a multiple page scathing email to the Academic Dean and head of my department to complain about me because he got a B in my class.”
This triggered the end of my teaching career for eighteen months while I licked my wounds and focused on being a new mom. My baby boy was sweet, kind, forgiving, fun, appreciative . . . everything I had not experienced in the schools where I taught.
I got hired to teach a class at a fourth school, my alma mater.
My students surprised me with a chocolate rose on Valentine’s Day accompanied by the pictured note. Then I received an email from a student that said in part, “I still have a long way to go but I would not have made the progress that I have so far if it weren’t for your help, understanding, and encouragement.” And then they all coordinated to play an April fools’ joke on me (I found this to be the biggest compliment of all!) Yet another student gave me a thank you card for hosting a dinner for the class, and another said she aspires to work with me one day. I could keep going but I think you get the point.
My story changed.
My heart healed.
My spirit soared.
I had made it to my happy beach ending, as can you.
Does God have you in a trench or has he recently delivered you to your beach experience? Please share.
Did you check out my other related post? Read on! You know God has a sense of humor when . . .