Most who know me know I don’t like change. Hate it usually. So naturally I find change scary. Because I am a creature of habit who tries desperately to avoid change. Sometimes I can let it glide past me without a pause in my stride but other times… it stops me in my tracks. So does fear. “Fear… he is a liar.” I don’t know if many of you have heard that in a popular Christian song lately but I turn it up every time it comes on. I need that reminder. I need that assurance. I need the 365 times it is said in the Bible. I know He wrote it that many times for people like me… people who can feel confident in what we know and what we are used to but we run from change, we run from fear, we run from failure. Failure is very scary to me. I am a competitive person. So failure is a natural fear to someone who likes winning as much as I do. My pastor this morning was talking about how God didn’t intend for us to compete… he was speaking in the context of marriage and I think in that context it is true… but in other areas of life, I absolutely believe competition pushes many to discover and be what they would not otherwise. This is sometimes good and bad. Sometimes competition can drive people crazy. I don’t get obsessed with 1st place. But I do seriously struggle with failure. With not finishing well, even if it isn’t 1st place I need to finish, and finish well. I need to feel proud of my work. I don’t usually need others to complement my work but I do need for them to feel I do a good job. I don’t think they have to say it but saying the opposite definitely has shook me. ‘Shook’, yet another new phrase I have learned through exposure to our youth. They always come up with interesting phrases. Shook is particularly interesting. It reminds me of an earthquake. Not that I have experienced an earthquake. But what else would ‘shook’ come from. So if shook means to tear apart at the very foundation of something… it sounds pretty accurate for my current predicament.

I always feel confident. I always push through. I always ‘buck up, buttercup.’ I have been doing this and doing it well my whole life. I haven’t been through the horrors that some have survived. Many would say I have led a blessed, sheltered existence. They would be right. But life is not without struggles. Life doesn’t care how loving your family is when you crash your car at 16, total the car after having your license 10 days. The car damage is a distant memory to the scars on my hand. But honestly even those scars have mostly healed with time. When my Dad noticed them the other day and was touched at my son holding my scarred, mangled finger, the one the surgeon would have cut off but chose to save ‘for cosmetic reasons’ instead, thinking I would never really be able to use it. That finger that I get to go about my day not thinking about now. Because honestly it isn’t a hindrance on my life. It has changed the way I type or hold things but honestly it has been 14 years so I don’t notice those changes unless I have cause to.

I don’t mean to brag about what I have overcome. I know many have overcome much, much more. I only include that struggle to say that my current predicament shouldn’t be having me ‘shook.’ I have been through much, much worse.

My current predicament is a question of confidence in part, of purpose in part, and of my future in full. I don’t know that I used to spend much time thinking about the future before. But now, I keep thinking ahead to milestones my son will see, to memories we will make with him and to learning who he is and who God has designed him to be. I keep thinking about how much of that I will be present for, how much I will actually be witness to in person, and how much I will miss while I work.

Work- the thing I used to love, very much. For many years it was my defining characteristic. I was a teacher. But now, when I think of what I am, I don’t think I would say teacher first in almost any circumstance. I would say mom, I would say wife, I would say daughter, sister, friend, Jesus follower, flawed human. I am still a teacher. But I have come to find my identity in so many more areas than just my job. I still love my job.. most days, like I’m sure many would say as well. But now… now that it doesn’t define me… I am able to prioritize all the other parts of me. And those parts need to be priority. I need them and they need me.

I don’t have any answers for the moment, so I will leave with this…. I don’t think any of us will ever look back from our death bed to wish we had worked more. No matter how purposeful and lovely that work may be.