Pity Party: Table for One

A new school year is well underway. 

After the transition and 2,000 mile trek back to Kansas this summer, I think I anticipated my students to be different from the faces that stared back at me in Idaho, but I'm realizing they're the same energetic and promising smiles and summer-sunned students.  Yes, Kansas has it's differences, but there are also many comparisons to the CV Rams who sunk into my heart as I started a career in teaching.

We are one week down already, which is hard to believe.  In terms of first-days, this year's was virtually flawless.  I think I stood, mouth agape, at the end of the day thinking, "That could not have gone ANY better."

My students kicked off the school year with research over the Civil Rights Movement as we get ready to move into Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird. 

As students presented and shared, it hit me: during an era when people had to fight for basic rights and recognition, they were also fighting for something no one can take away.  Worth.

Worth has been something I've been processing all summer, and the reason I've been hesitant to blog.

School ended quite poorly for me in Idaho.  I loved my students, and many of my coworkers, but I let my boss push me into a corner the last week of school over a grade issue, and his bully behavior made me feel...cheap.  And very weak.  And if I'm being totally honest, worthless.

In the midst of an ethical dilemma, I did the wrong thing.  I was naive.  I was scared to tell my authority no.   I was weak.

And I hate that.

And so I not only allowed a wayward leader to bully me, I allowed that broken and misguided leader to determine my worth.  Even though he is thousands of miles away, that "worthless" thought has whispered through my head all summer. 

The injustice of what happened makes me angry.  But I can't do anything- nothing- to change it. 

The hurt runs in so many directions, but the widest path of hurt is at myself for knowing the right thing to do and not doing it.  I play the what-if game often.

"What if I had stood up for myself?"

"What if I had more experience and had known what to do!"

"What if the union had backed me?"

What if...what if...what if...

I can so easily throw a pity party for myself, but how pointless is that?  It doesn't help, it doesn't change anything, and it doesn't glorify God.

I was convicted while listening to my new students present about the fight for civil rights this week. 

During an era in which the majority said "you're worthless," a determined group of people said, "no, we're not; we're worth it," and they pressed on.  They fought, hard, and they did not let the broken and misguided leaders determine their worth. 

This summer I have felt like King David.  "Why are you downcast, O my soul?  Why so disturbed within me?" 

But Jesus told his followers to not let their hearts be troubled, not to grow weary.

The pity party is a farce!

The admission ticket to that party is worthlessness, and that ticket is single admittance.  

The world may whisper, "You're worthless!"  But God whispers, "You're worth it!"  And so he sent his son...for us.

For me.

For my own inadequacies and my own failures.  For my own sins.

And he gives more grace.

More than I'll ever deserve, and more that I am ever so thankful for.

And I have worth, because I have Him. 

And He has you.

Therefore, a table for one won't be big enough, and we don't want to miss the party...