The summer is beginning to wind down as school is only a week and a half away; time to transition to a more regular schedule, where my focus will be more on teaching and less on organizing crazy events (praise God!) but the transition also requires long hours of preparation for the school year. Yesterday was one of those 12- hour days, and I surprise myself with the range of emotions I experience in one day at work:
A knot of dread in the pit of my stomache during my morning drive reminds me that I'm just not looking forward to facing all the unanswered questions today. My quiet, introverted self struggles to be authentic past the friendly Sunday-morning greetings during the early service.
Impatience and embarassment as I remember a student who needs a ride (we can't see to get a good bus system going) and I need to find a second adult to go with me to pick him up. I hate asking other adults to do things, even though they are willing servants and they're not doing it for me, but for the students.
Disapointment in my students, whom I and another dear woman labor to teach week after week, and during review, can't recal one thing we discussed all summer long. Do these hours of work even count for anything?
Peace and comfort flood through me during the worship service. For an hour I can drop my "have it all together" role and petition a good King to bless this community. I am joined at the kneeling rail by older saints whose passion and perserverance last far longer than my own. This church struggles, but they have a good heart.
I'm tired by 11:30, but it's potluck day. I'm genuinely happy about getting a free meal and sharing it with some friends at church, but feeling increasingly tired and impatient as I gather up two students and another adult to give them a ride home. Back at the chruch, I have one hour to make phone calls, e-mails, and a to-do list before I go pick up kids again for worship rehearsal.
Because the pastor's away and next week is youth Sunday, guess who gets to be in charge of the service next week? It was my bright idea to get the youth band to lead worship, so by 2:00 we're all together with a handful of middle school students (the rest are unresponsive to my persistent phone calls) in an attempt to make something resembling music. This is where I almost start crying because I realize I've been put in charge of something I know nothing about.
My some miracle, we get through with a degree of improvement. Then there's a meeting with the pastor. Then a quick meeting with the music director. Details for next week begin falling into place. Finally it's off to the lake because Youth Group is meeting on a sail boat!
Two and a half hours later, I file 5 hungry students off the boat to impatient parents waiting on the shore. We promised to provide dinner that some students didn't have because we ran so late. One student was brand new and I hope he comes back next week, but his aunt seemed pretty unhappy about the late return. But I'm in a good mood because it was a fun and peaceful ride. Maybe we solidified some friendships. Maybe my short devotional about Jesus calming the waves was an encouragement to one. Maybe they'll make a point to come back.
That's always the question that stirrs the most anxiety in me. Who will be there? Who can I count on? Why aren't they comming? What can I do to make them come? But it's one question that keeps me coming back week after week. Is it worth it? Yes, it always is.
Here are some pictures of our crew on the sail boat. I certainly had a blast. Next week we'll go bowling, then to an ice-cream place, then our Kick-Off will be at the end of August. Fall 2012, here we come! https://www.facebook.com/pages/Stockton-United-Methodist-Church/149622788442667?ref=stream#!/media/set/?set=a.372117042859906.85125.149622788442667&type=1
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