Do You Know How That Feels?

Mr. Powell asked if he could keep my drawing. Do you know how that feels? 

(from Okay For Now by Gary D. Schmidt)

Yesterday I visited the school I spent the last two years of my life, heart, and skills in. I cried a lot. I smiled a lot.

My good friend and I met at said school two years ago. We also left the city at the same time the end of the year last year. So, she visited this weekend and we decided to make a visit and see the place that has felt like home for so long.

Before I could even enter the building, students were pouring out to greet me.
Quickly, I was the wave came; hug after hug. And just like that, it was like no time had past. Like slipping on your favorite pair of soccer shorts. This was my home. This was where being myself was the only way to be. This was where my idiosyncrasies could be useful and my passion came alive.

Students who were so special to me, those I had formed a bond with for two years were able to sit down and talk like no time had passed. Students I had driven home, given relationship advice to, students whose heads I held while they overdosed in my class, whose parents I had prayed with over their son's hospital bed, students I lectured, joked with, brought into my home for Spanish Food Day, made skits with, challenged to the point of anger, learned Spanish dances at Tango Dance Cafe with, and those I walked alongside in their fight for success. My kids.

And the weirdest part of it all, there were kids whose names I didn't even know, calling me by name and so excited to see me there again.

And then it started; sharing memories. We laughed about boogers of the day, of me going down the hall pushed on skateboards playing the guitar to get kids to class and to stop making out. But slowly, it became obvious...they remembered everything. And it meant more to them than I realized. They needed to know they were special. That I hadn't replaced them. And as they listed off all the ways they missed me and all the special things they remembered...I just wanted to cry.

Had I really left such an impact?
Wasn't I just a hot mess barely keeping afloat?
Had they really noticed I cared so much?
Had they really listened every time I took them aside and spoke truth into their life?
They did.
They heard every word.
When they seemed disinterested, they weren't.
When they seemed like they weren't paying attention to my advice, they were.

They were testing me.
And I passed.
And they let me in.
....and I left.
Like all other adults in their life do.

So, that piece I will be wrestling with for awhile.
But what I know to be true is that we should never doubt the impact we can have on another person.
The lie is that what you do or say doesn't matter. That if it's not you, someone else just as capable will do it.
But someone else won't. And they don't.

What I know to be true I that God is good.
And He is in control.
And He is for me.
And He is the one who made me like this.
And He is the one who made my heart fill with love for these kids.
And He knows what He's doing...even when it hurts.

Sometimes, there are seasons. And you have to be able to let go. And you have to be able to give your whole heart to the new thing.
I realized, I haven't been giving me whole heart to my new students.
That I have still been mourning my first home. My first love.
Or rather, I never really left myself mourn.
But yesterday...I had a chance to do that.

But... I'm going to do whatever I do with my whole heart.
Starting now.
Because my new students deserve the same memories.
 Even if it's not the same as the old school, it was never suppose to be.
And this problem of giving my whole heart isn't just here. It's everywhere in my life.
I'm going to not avoid things that may hurt.
Or pull away from hugs first before someone else can.
Or end phone conversations before someone else does.
I'm going to try to love fully. Be a friend fully. Be a teacher fully. Be a child of God fully.
And stop trying to protect my heart so much.
Because I may never cry if I do that, but I miss the whole point.

Thank you to my first group of kids.
Who taught me so much about myself and about life.
Who fought and survived their circumstances.
Who inspired me every day. Who made me laugh.
And who let me in their worlds and loved me.
... do you know how that feels?

I'm learning to:
Love even if I will have to move on.
Not diminish the power I have in others lives.
Trust God's seasons.
Because even if I knew I would have this pain of loss when I started, I would have done it all anyway.

Because I'm lucky, I do know how 'that' feels.

Xoxo,
Mp