For some reason, my brain organizes life in sections of time... this many weeks until this event, or this many months since that event. Almost like milestones or something. Maybe that is messed up, I don't know.
Wednesday marks two months since I boarded an airplane in London, returning back to the USA after almost four wonderful months spent in the north of England. Two months! Where has the time gone?!
Since coming back home, I have had a massive amount of time to think and reflect. It has been a hard road filled with some deep depression and true soul searching. I'm ever so thankful for the continual faithfulness and patience of the Lord. I would love to tell you that I bounced back from living a somewhat fairytale life, but that wouldn't be true. It has been a struggle. Some days have felt as though I am army crawling up a steep hill, inch by painful inch. Some days I am up and walking. It has been a weary journey.
A couple years ago, I would have guiltily hidden my struggles. I had this notion that if I appeared weak no one would want to be around be and they would think less of me. It was only through the advice of trusted friends and family and working of the Lord in my heart, that I realized there was no shame in depression. That in itself was freeing. It kinda shoves you to the ground in the realization that there is no way you can do life successfully without God.
So when I once again found myself in a valley, I was not ashamed or fearful. It was more like an 'oh darn' moment. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Lord would bring me through it, and that there was a reason that I was in this place. Still, it has been a tough couple months.
In England, I had a brand new life. Every day was essentially a new adventure, filled with new people, scenery, experiences, and lessons. For my personality, that is like pure happiness. I love new things and might secretly or not so secretly enjoy the unknown. That is who I am! The adventure of life holds so much exciting mystery and I love discovering it.
I had a new church, with a new community and group of friends. Starting over with that part of life was challenging, but rewarding and filled with inspiring and phenomenal people. There was a new city, filled with culture, history, streets, and people that I had absolutely no idea about. And of course, a school. Up until this point, I had never taught full-time... just part-time. Before England, I wondered if I was truly cut out to teach full-time. In about a week I realized, that yes, I was cut out for it. In fact, this was part of my main calling in life.
I remember the first week I started teaching. So many nerves! I was a bit unsure, and confidence wasn't particularly present. Would I be able to communicate clearly to my students? Would they think I was dumb? Would they like music? Would they learn what they were supposed to?
By the end of the week though, my confidence had grown in leaps and bounds, and I realized that it didn't matter so much what the students thought of me. What really mattered was that they learned, and somehow found joy in learning.
Most importantly though I was hit in the face by one thing. These students were human beings. Now, that sounds a bit silly, but I realized how important consciously recognizing their humanity was. It opened my eyes to see my students as more than just warm bodies in desks and more than just a way to realize music. These people had dreams and talents, fears and humor, curiosity, hurt, intelligence, and joy. It actually overwhelmed me. Teaching now went beyond the academic subject of music. It was about life and connecting learning to the heart and mind of each student. Gosh! I could teach the 'perfect' lesson, hitting every major point and including advanced teaching technique, but unless it connected with my students, it was an absolutely pointless endeavor.
I could go on and on about this. For hours in fact. Suffice to say, that as I began to incorporate this into my teaching, the responses of my students stunned me. Sure, some of my lessons sucked. There is no way around it. I majorly failed at times. But my students graciously carried on. Their patience and support was humbling. I was astounded by their intelligence, and moved by their love. To the very end they gave me countless opportunities to confidently experiment in my teaching. When something went well, they made sure I knew it 100%.
I realized that my favorite teachers were the ones that connected to me, cared about me, and challenged me. They expected excellence from me. An excellence that I didn't always think I was capable of, yet their unwavering faith in me encouraged and pushed me to achieve exactly what I thought was impossible. I tried to teach that way. Maybe sometimes I praised too much. Maybe sometimes we had too much 'fun' in class and not enough 'focus'. Good gracious, there were many things I wouldn't do the same. But I do know this... I would always repeat the encouraging, challenging, and connecting times with my students.
The love I felt upon leaving, and have continued to feel since then has broken me time and again. In a good way though. The notes received and the messages still being sent never fail to bring me to tears. How I was blessed to student teach at a school with such beautiful people, I will never understand. But I am grateful. Eternally grateful that the Lord placed me in a place where I was able to learn, mature, laugh and cry. The last two months have shown me that and given me time to reflect with great awe upon the many blessings that the four months in England held. I have finally begun to move forward. Moving forward does not mean you forget the past. Instead, it means going forward in life, having been changed by the past and keeping those memories alive.
As overly dramatic as it sounds, my students changed my life. The imprint they have left on my heart and teaching is incredible. Without them, I would not be who I am today. I miss them so much it hurts. The fact that I may never see them again drives me crazy. But I'm grateful. It came to me that in my efforts to believe in them, support them, challenge and inspire them, it actually often had the reverse effect in that they ended up doing that to me. I left them and live on today being inspired because of them. It boggles my mind. These kids continue to believe in me, celebrating my successes, hoping for an exciting future, lovingly encouraging me to keep on. That is love. Funny how life works.
This depression fog is lifting. God is bringing peace despite the unknown future. And my kids... oh these wonderful people... they are making sure that I know that they believe in me. So, I'm up and walking again on this road called life. Purpose and joy are returning. And I have a smile, that comes from a changed and renewed heart. Come at me life!
