It all ends in nineteen days. Less than three weeks. Soon, I’ll take off my stole, hang up my graduation gown, and walk through these halls for the last time as a teacher. While I’m excited about what is to come because I’ve no doubt it’s what God has prepared for me, the fact that I’ll be leaving this career behind soon is difficult to process.
Today, I started writing what would be the first of many goodbye letters to students. It happens every year – I always wonder if I’ve done enough, said enough, taught well enough…But this time, it’s even more prevalent in my mind. I may never see some of these beautiful souls again here on Earth. Did I point the way to Christ enough?
I’ve spent almost seven years of my life – basically my entire adult life so far – teaching literature…But if I haven’t taught them to apply the stories to life, what’s the point? If I haven’t taught them that stories are the essence of our culture and our souls, what have I done? If I haven’t shown them how to find beauty in even the most wretched of places, hasn’t it all been for nought? If we can find redemption even in the macabre tales penned by Poe, we can find redemption in ourselves…and isn’t that what Christ did?
It’s like writing in a journal that only has a few pages left. What can I say to make that last mark? What last lecture can I deliver? I’ve always been told that the best Bible people will ever read is our lives…Have I been legible?
Jesus, I’m tired. Split between the already and the not yet and the somewhat here. Longing for the next journal to open, yet pining to linger here just a little longer. I need You to take this pen and fill the last pages with all of You. Wear me like a cloak, Jesus. Make my story count with these kids for eternity.
Because THAT’s the whole point.