Callings are tender mercies from the Lord.
I feel like an epic failure in my calling. I teach the youth sunday school class, which is so rambunctious and disrespectful that ... well, let's just say they make me want to fall on the floor like a toddler and throw a tantrum. Which is almost what I did on Sunday. Bad move, Carolyn. Bad move.
Now I haven't wanted to ask for help. I thought I could just love these little punks into some respect. And I do love them, so we have a pretty good relationship outside of the classroom. Who am I kidding? They think we have a good relationship in the classroom. They think that I enjoy playing keep away with their gizmos and having them interrupt my attempts to teach. So I have stood up there week after week for a year and allowed them to ignore me, throw things at me, and complain about the things they do for me. And all of a sudden I say, "No. More."
I am not going to ask for a release. I have learned too much about what doesn't work to give up now. No, instead I am going to ask for help. God's help, the bishop's help, their parents' help, I am going to get all the help I can. And I will learn how to be a better teacher. I will learn to lead.
I realize that they may never change. Maybe that's not why I'm in this calling. Maybe I am here so that I can change. Be better, stronger. Since that's what I want, I am so grateful for this calling. I can't imagine one that would have challenged and stretched me quite this much.
I am going to get back up. I am going to throw them out of my class--to "suspend" them so to speak--and send them to time out / the principal's office. I recognize that, to a large degree, their bad behavior has been reinforced by my unwillingness to confront them. But I can no longer hold back from this conflict. It is mine and I am woman enough to not back down.