And the movie was pretty spectacular too. Mind you, I'm partial to the X-Men franchise. When the original trilogy started I was hooked (and angered by the end of it). I watched the cartoons, researched the multiple universes and characters, and dream about the day when I can own the comics.
I guess I love the idea that the strange things about you that people don't understand can often be used to help others.
Last Saturday I got the opportunity to do something that, for me, was pretty spectacular. When I was teaching in BC I taught English to this incredible group of grade tens. And I'm not using the word "incredible" lightly. I have never had a group rise to challenges the way they did. The wrote me poetry, short stories, essays, and acted out a play in a manner I have never seen any other group of students do. By the end of the semester, students who struggled to hand in assignments on time (or at all), were handing in their essays ahead of schedule, asking me for feedback on how they could make their work better. I had one student write a poem and analyze it, and then hand it to me and say, "Ms. S, read my poem, then my analysis, and then my poem again. It will blow your mind."
It did.
But that isn't what sticks with me the most about these kids.
If you haven't figured it out by now, I'm weird. I have always known this about myself, and to be honest it is something I have always been insecure about. I love classic literature and the BBC adaptations of them (I walk around with a cloth bag that has Pride and Prejudice written on it. Friends have made me coasters and mugs with my favourite BBC gents on them). I love epic stories, like Lord of the Rings, Star Wars, and Harry Potter. I get so excited when a new Marvel movie is set to come to theatres (in the last few weeks we bought the first two X-Men movies to prepare for this one... I even own a Captain America bobble head). I grew up with brothers who video gamed, and as a result all of my siblings do. I love the look on a student's face when they find out I play World of Warcraft or that RPGs are my preference in games. When I get stressed out, I need to run. When I'm upset or unsure or needing to mull something over (or else escape), I run. I also dance.
Some people get this. A lot of people don't. And every time someone looks at me like I'm crazy or makes a comment about something I love that is belittling, I feel a part of me crush. I think of all the times growing up that I felt like people just humored me because I was different. That my oddities and peculiarities were something to be tolerated, but I could still feel the internal eye rolls.
These students got me. Not all of them shared interests with me. But each of them had their own interests. And they embraced them. This class embraced each other. Some of them loved BBC movies (I lent out some of my Jane Austen ones to some of them). Some of them loved their epic movies. Some just liked longboarding to their teacher's house to rearrange her snowmen figurines. Some loved fantasy. Some were quiet. Some where bubbly.
Each of them was unique and different.
And they were okay with that.
Because they were okay with that, they could accept it from each other.
And they could accept it from me.
I was able to infuse my lessons with my quirks, and what I found was that my students weren't just more interested in the lessons, they were able to understand and learn because of it.
These students taught me that it is okay to be a little different. God created me unique and there is nothing wrong with embracing that.
So last Saturday, with the help of some staff, I was able to Skype into the grade ceremony of these students and read them some words I had written. I could tell them how much they meant to me, how much I learned from them, and could encourage them to embrace who God created them to be.
Talk about being on a high starting this week off.
Then this week happened.
It has been a bit of a hard week. I don't really want to get into details, but some of the stuff involves not feeling well, waiting on a job, and the fact that one year ago today my Oma died.
I woke up this morning and just wanted to cry. I felt really low. And to be honest I just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep through church.
But I didn't. I went. One of the songs we sang was "In Christ Alone." This is one of my favourite songs. We sang it at our wedding, and I have it memorized on the piano, so no matter where I find a piano, I can sit down and play this song. And today it reminded me that it is in Christ alone that I have hope.
The lesson I always seem to have to come back to is resting in that knowledge. Remembering that God made me who I am. That my identity is in Him. That when others don't get me or roll their eyes at me, He made me unique. That when nothing quite seems to be going right, and I feel really down, He is my hope. When things don't go the way I want them to (which is typically how things go), God always works them out in a manner that is for my best. In a way that makes me better. And in a way that brings Him the glory.
My grade tens, without realizing, showed me that aspect of God. They did not reject me, but challenged me to use my talents and quirks. To grow.
And so for now, despite still wanting to cry, I rest in the knowledge that Jesus is Immanuel... God with us. My Lord sees and knows. He grows and challenges. And He loves.
It also means that tomorrow's run is going to be muchly needed and quite therapeutic as my feet pound the pavement and my heart cries out to God.
So thank you, my grade tens (who are no longer in grade ten), for showing me Christ's love. Thank you for leaving with me a reminder that no matter what is going on or how I feel, God still sees me. God knows. And it is in Him and Him alone that I must rest.
This class had asked me to reserve a spot for them at our wedding. So we did.
