I know I haven’t blogged in a while, so this post being my
“back to the blog” attempt might not make a lot of sense, and I’m not looking
for sympathy or reassurance…I just want to share something that is heavy on my
heart today. Let me explain…
Location: Chengdu, China
Local Time (CST -- GMT+8): 9:16 p.m. (4/11/2014)
Auburn Time (PST -- GMT-7): 6:16 a.m. (4/11/2014)
I'm single. This is
[hopefully] no surprise to any of you that know me. I’ve been blessed with the opportunity to
live in an amazing corner of the world, pouring my heart into the people around
me and the students that enter my classroom each day. I truly love what I do. I know that I have been uniquely gifted with
an immense passion for the students that I work with, and there isn’t always
room for many others in my days as I attempt to become the best teacher and
mentor to them that I can be. There have
been seasons in my life where I have been told that I need to stop thinking so
much about my job, but I honestly can’t.
I love it so much. I truly
do. I wouldn’t trade the opportunities
that I have to make a difference in their lives for anything. It is where I’m supposed to be.
That said, there is a part of me that aches for something
different; that yearns to be a “normal” twenty-six year old girl. What is “normal?” In most of my groups of
friends, “normal” for now is getting married, having kids, and getting settled
into a routine that will last for decades.
“Normal” is going over to mom and dad’s every weekend for Sunday lunch
to share stories of running into friends from a few years back in the grocery
store and hearing about all the comings and goings of grown-up life.
My “grown-up” life is so far from normal.
And I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Really.
And then someone, I’m sure meaning to be an encouragement or
to provide some shred of hope for that “normal” that everyone knows that
everyone else must be longing for, goes and ruins it.
I love my students, and part of loving them means
anticipating disaster and preventing injury.
Twice today I was told that, as a result of my stellar
crowd-control-like skills at school, I’m going to make a marvelous mother.
Thanks.
How do you know that I’m going to be a great mother? Have you seen some crystal ball into my
future? Did God sit you down for coffee
and give you a vision of my life?
Because if He did, I’d love to see it.
Let’s talk reality here.
I might make a wonderful mother someday, but you
don’t know that. Even if I do some day
meet the man of my dreams (Gilbert Blythe is still free, isn’t he?), my own
children will not know the cool teacher that was commented on today. Even if I met Mr. Right tomorrow, got married
in a year, and immediately became a baby-making machine, by the time my kids
are the age of my students I will be almost forty, with aching bones and weary
eyes. How do I know? I don’t…but my aching joints and exhausted
body can barely make it through an 8-hour day of teaching now. I can’t imagine how I would have energy for
that and a family of my own. Sure, I
love my friends’ and cousins’ kids. I
adore them more than anything on the planet, in fact. Maybe that means I’ll make a great mom. But you don’t know that.
When I moved to China, I accepted that singleness was going
to be a reality for me for at least two years.
Now I'm staying for another contract, and possibly for decades
more. Singleness isn’t something that I
fell asleep dreaming about as a child, but it is a reality for me now, and I am
so extremely content with it. Again, I
know that I wouldn’t be able to do what I’m doing here and now if I had any
other circumstances.
But that doesn't mean that your comments don’t tug at an
aching part of my heart.
So friends, as you see the single men and women around you
and think that little comment that you mean to be encouraging, please be
mindful of their hearts. Be mindful and
consider that what you mean for encouragement might in fact be a painful
reminder of a choice that they have made and of the cons to a calling that they
are grateful to have followed.
And to my single friends out there, I understand your
ache. I feel your pain. Know that you are not alone.
Location: Chengdu, China
Local Time (CST -- GMT+8): 9:16 p.m. (4/11/2014)
Auburn Time (PST -- GMT-7): 6:16 a.m. (4/11/2014)
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