Does it sometimes seem like blogs portray maybe the more bright side of life? Although I have nothing against writing about the beautiful and always trying to see the silver lining and ending every experience on a positive note and a lesson learned... in fact I highly endorse that... I think it's ok and even really healthy to 'own' the pain, the ugly, the unpleasant, the dark, the discouragement and disappointment.
I consider it a privilage to experience those aspects of life because it adds depth and meaning. If the Savior of the world experienced the very darkest of the dark, and if that is part of what allows Him to empathize- to truly understand us, then how fortunate I should feel to experience even a fraction or even the surface of that. I want to be empathetic. I want to understand people. I want to feel happiness and joy to the degreee that I experience pain and sorrow. I want those lessons. To be refined. To be humbled.
That's just what days like today do... when I let them.
I woke up after less than four hours of restless sleep, with the things that have been weighing on me lately very much present in my heart and mind. They were already emotionally draining and it was only 5am. I arrived at work feeling weak in the areas I've been working on strengthening. One thing I was determined on despite all this, was that I would show greater love and understanding to my students.
During planning I went to talk to a student I knew I needed to let know how much potential I saw in her. It just so happened that she was having a terrible day and I didn't need to call her into the office- she was already there in tears. As I sat and listened and tried to comfort I realized that it really didn't matter what I said. It was the love I had felt for her and the concern I had had that was what she needed. I hope it was enough. I remember being there and how hard some of those middle and high school moments were.
Immediately following that and just before classes started I found myself in a situation of being wrongly accused of both lying and unfairly treating a student (in defense of the accuser, I can only imagine how hard it would be to be a parent when your child is telling you one story and a teacher is telling a completely different one). While it was, and is, not a pleasant experience, I'm grateful to know how it feels not only to feel wrongly accused, but to have good intentions misconstrued.
And classes hadn't even begun.
I did so well with my first, most difficult class. I felt so good. Although my patience was tried I felt like I conquered it. Then within the first two minutes of my second class I snapped. I was impatient. I immediately caught myself but I felt terrible. The rest of my classes were relatively drama free but my lessons were terribly boring and I felt bad for the kids. At least I felt like that was uncharacteristic right?
I learned so many lessons... which I will write about after a good night's sleep.
