I know most people start their New Year’s resolutions on January 1, but I’m more a January 2 sort of girl. The first just comes with so much pressure to start well and get it right, which doesn’t go well with being exhausted from staying up the night before. So my January 1 pattern is to eat my junk food and enjoy my chocolate and sit inactively on the couch. But January 2? Look out. I’m coming in like a lion.

Or something. 😉

Which makes today’s choice all the more perplexing, because I scheduled some bright and early dental work. Welcome, 2018! Here, let me fill a few holes in your teeth in your honor?

Ugh.

I hate dental work. I have so much dental anxiety, which isn’t to say it’s my dentist’s fault. I actually really love my dentist. But sitting in that chair…the whine of the drill…the tugging and prodding and tap tap tapping…it makes my toes curl and I have to actively remind myself to take breaths. Like, every breath. I’d hold my breath the entire time I was there if I could.  This isn’t exactly the most uplifting way to start my year.

But in another sense, it seemed like a good way to start the year–to eat the frog, so to speak. Do the hard thing first. Push through. Get it over with. Wouldn’t it be nice if getting my teeth drilled were the hardest thing I had to do this year? My anxiety is high even asking that question. Quick! Let me find some wood on which to knock!

I was listening to a podcast this week (love this show so, so much!) where she talked about a verse in Colossians 3:

“And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body.” ~ verse 15

Did you see it–that little, pivotal word in there? I’ve seen this verse a hundred times and never noticed what Emily said about it:

“God offers his peace to act as your umpire, to release you from having to keep it together. Your only job?

Let him.

Receive the peace that belongs to you. It is not an easy thing to do, to quiet the voices of fear and shame and hurry — but the peace of Christ will stand between you and everything else.

You have the letting power.”

If you look at the rest of the larger passage, it’s all about things to do–put on compassionate hearts, put on patience, put on love, forgive each other, and so on. But this one little blip in the middle is all about letting. I have the peace if I will let.

2017 didn’t go how I expected. Nothing terrible happened, but it was harder than usual and there was little sense of gentleness or ease. My word for 2018 is “action” because I want to focus on some goals that have repeatedly pushed to the bottom of the barrel–things like my health, writing, and several relationships.  It’s hard to break old patterns. It’s hard to move from inertia to…what? Ertia? 😉

How do I let? I like what it says in the Amplified version. Bolding is mine:

Let the peace of Christ [the inner calm of one who walks daily with Him] be the controlling factor in your hearts [deciding and settling questions that arise].

It doesn’t directly tell how, but I think that must become apparent through the “walks daily with Him” portion, something I didn’t do with any consistency during 2017. Faith is one of these action areas on which I want to focus in 2018, and I’d decided that before I’d listened to this podcast or read these verses. But now that I have, I’m really looking forward to growing this portion of my faith, the letting portion. The peace of God portion. I need this now more than ever.

And just because I know these two things get wrapped up in churchy, trite ways, let me say this: I still have anxiety. I still take anxiety medication. I don’t expect the peace of God to fix my emotional and mental health anymore than I expect to pray my vision back to uncorrected 20/20, although I believe either thing is within the realm of God’s possibility. No, I think God’s peace can coincide with anxiety. They’re not mutually exclusive. I can LET my anxiety run away with itself and crowd out God’s peace, or I can hold one in each hand, LETTING God’s peace be the counterweight to my anxiety.

Looking forward to exploring this concept of letting more in 2018. What are you looking forward to?

It seems like it was another lifetime ago, but at one time in my adulthood, I was a school teacher – a bona fide health teacher.  I spent approximately the first 17 years of my life dreaming of that career, 4 years educating myself, three years doing it – two of which I dreaded – and the last 12 years being eternally grateful that I had the chance to quit.

For the most part, I haven’t missed it, except for a few rare moments, usually revolving around new school supplies and curriculum development.  Also around identity, especially when it comes to my kids.  I worry about them thinking of me (and thereby extending that to all women) as “just” mommies, people who don’t/can’t/won’t/aren’t capable of contributing to the betterment of our broader society.  I don’t usually miss the kids because I have some.  I don’t miss the pressure because I have some of that, too.  😉  I don’t miss being beholden to other children’s parents.  And I certainly don’t miss standards and alignment and tests and smart goals and grading and conferences and report cards.

But I’ve been surprised lately when sometimes – very rarely, mind you – I notice a pang.  Maybe do I possibly by chance perhaps want to be a teacher again?

(Tahd, don’t faint!)

The answer is a “mostly no” (I even let my certification lapse!) and a “resounding yes” (but not in public schools).  But these pangs have had me reflecting on why I got done in the first place and where I am with those thoughts 12 years later.

To set the stage, imagine a 7-year-old child who used to sneak white chalk to write letters and math problems on her white walls (hello…invisible) while she imagined imparting knowledge to classrooms full of eager, innocent children.  When my mother realized what I was doing (yes, it was invisible, but chalk leaves dust on brown carpet), she got me a chalkboard for my next Christmas and I commenced setting up shop while I tortured my younger sisters with lesson upon lesson.  Seven was when I knew I wanted to be a teacher, and although I considered other options, but the end of high school I was sure I wanted to be a school teacher.

I vascillated between teaching English and Health.  I’d had teachers in both subjects that I really admired and who had instilled for me a love for the content areas.  When I thought about what I wanted to study for 4 years of college, however, the idea of drowning in endless English classes with piles of books and papers made me overwhelmed, so I decided that I’d go with health.  It seemed more engaging and more practical to me.  In retrospect, it was an excellent choice.  I have used my degree – although not professionally – every day of my life since graduation.  It was not a wasted investment.

I didn’t get a teaching job right out of college.  I didn’t even really try.  I was betwixt and between, my family living in Illinois while I was graduating from a school in Maine.  I got a well-paying job nearby family, working for a private real estate assessment company.  Although it was a good job with interesting content, I’m more of a people person than I am a structures, buildings, and taxes person, and real estate didn’t make my heart beat fast like a classroom full of kids did.  When a job came open at my alma mater’s district, I jumped at the chance to apply.

As luck would have it, I got the job, all $18,900 per year (!!!), and Tahd and I – recently married – set out to move back to my girlhood town so I could teach health to grades 6, 7, and 8.  I remember one of my first days of school, thinking how lucky I was that I’d never dread going to work again – I had the job of my dreams and was going to stay there forever!

Part 2 later this week!