So when I got out of college, fully equipped for...law school? No thanks. Ministry? Nothing seemed to fit. Hmmm....you mean I have to start paying my student loans back now? Crap.
This was how I entered the world of teaching. Literally, everywhere else was a dead end. I needed a real job. I needed to make a decent amount of money. The quickest way to do that was to start becoming certified to teach. Begrudgingly, I did.
That's when things started to change. As I studied the art of educating kids, passion took its place in my heart. I couldn't wait to have my own classroom, my own students, my own curriculum, etc. A year later, I was ready for the world of teaching!
The first year was tough. I tried biting off more than I could chew curriculum wise. I did that every year. Always reviewing and changing the way I did things, trying to find that perfect approach. But every year was different, every class different, every kid...different. After four years, I was burned. And I was burned out.
I felt like I was constantly trying to climb uphill. Yeah, I could look back down and see the progress I'd made. But I could look up and see a never ending mountain peaking up through clouds. Where was the end? The system was broken. It seemed to work against me. It seemed to work against the kids too. I didn't like the way things were. I didn't like making decisions trying to figure out which was the lesser evil. I didn't like never being able to leave it at work. I didn't like dreaming about lessons. And more than anything, I didn't like who I was becoming in the process.
Happy, determined, hopeful, consistent Mrs. Friederichs slowly warped into tired, stressed, impatient Mrs. Friederichs who slowly warped into grouchy, snappy, crazy Mrs. Friederichs. The cycle happened every year. I started hating the way my name sounded, because every time a student used it, they said it with the ring of unease, not knowing how I would respond to whatever it was they had to say or ask.
On the home front, things weren't much better. Overzealous at the start of the year, things went lacking at home, all of my energies going toward making this the year I do things differently. By the middle, I was treading water trying to keep the remnant of what began going. Still, dinner was an afterthought, creativity and patience memories long gone. Come March, I began sinking into the "let this year just end already" defeat that seemed inevitable. By now, I'm just trying to escape at home by watching TV. Andy got sloppy seconds. Overall, I felt like I wasn't doing anything in my life well, just juggling and dropping.
So when we found out I was pregnant, the fear that gripped me was How am I going to be a good wife, a good mother, and a good teacher when I can't even handle the two I do now? So Andy and I began praying through resigning from my job. The budget never added up. There was no way we could make it work on just one income. But we believed this was what God wanted for us to do. So I quit my job not knowing how it would all work out. And as He always provides what is necessary to do what is His will, many things aligned so that we could make it work.
A lot of people ask me if I miss teaching. I miss some things about it. I mostly miss some of the students I had the privilege of teaching. I don't miss it as a whole. I love my new jobs too much. I love being a good wife, which I finally feel like I'm doing well. I love being a good mommy, which I also rest easy knowing I'm doing my best at. And I love being Mrs. Kate to my three year old class at the ELC. Every Monday and Wednesday I go to work smiling, determined, hopeful, consistent. When my kids say my name, I light up, because they say it with joy.
These things have brought me such relief. But with it has also come a lot of regret. I regret letting myself succumb to bitterness each year. It's not the school's fault I became mean Mrs. Friederichs. It's not even the system's fault. That was my fault. My sin. Because through all of it, God had me there for a purpose. There were things to be done for the Kingdom. 100 kids I had the opportunity to love like Christ. And through every parent conference, lesson plan, grading rubric, every sweet or naughty kid, every broken system, there was grace each day for me. But I didn't seek the resources of God's grace. I sought to do it all myself. And when that happens, failure is close at hand.
So wherever God has you, whatever God has you doing, remember that the tiny voice in your head that says I can't do this...is right. You can't do it. Seek God's grace so that you can do with God what you can't do on your own. You won't want to look back on the years you wasted wondering what all could have been accomplished if only you had trusted and obeyed.
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