A Monument of Grace

Tuesday, March 28th, 2023, was one year since I told the board I was willing to move to Bedford to teach. I remember them asking in my interview if moving so far from my family and support group would be difficult for me. I told them that I’d already done it once, and that I was confident the Lord would help me if He was calling me to Bedford.  

So much has happened in a year. So many friends made, challenges faced, tears cried, so much counseling sought... but this year mark is a monument of God’s grace in my life.  Our Heavenly Father faithfully keeps His children.  He holds us fast and gives us victory through the blood.  He knows our fears, our pain, and our questions.  And He is ever-present in the midst of the fire.

I didn’t expect my year-mark to be a day filled with such sorrow and turmoil.  A day of celebration turned to a day of uncertainty as the news was delivered, first that my pastor’s family was moving (as in, that very day), and that the principal’s family would be moving by the end of the school year.  

I was shaken.  The two parsonage had been my major source of friendship and companionship. My source of spiritual wisdom, of stress relief, and my greatest resources for various basic life needs.  They were my roots here.  The reason I even knew about this school, or this job.  The only character reference for me that the church board had upon my interview.  And they were leaving.  

Suddenly, I felt faced with a decision.  Am I staying?  Or is it time to move on?  I’m losing my major supports. My closest friends and advisors. The only people who really know me. Suddenly, running away felt very welcoming.  But I love it in Bedford. I love my classroom. I love my kids.  But am I alone?

As I wrestled with the web of emotions, it became apparent that no challenge was really a factor in my decision.  No pastor. No principal. No other teacher. No friend. The only thing that mattered was the answer to the question, “Is this where Jesus has called me?”  

It is.  I know. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, I know I’ll be teaching here next year.  Following a minor panic attack Tuesday evening, I expected to barely make it through school the next day. I didn’t think the tears would stop flowing, the fear would stop bombarding, or the hurt would stop hurting.  But Wednesday morning I woke up, went to school, and taught a normal school day.  My peace was undisturbed.  The presence of Jesus was so sweet, and I was overwhelmed with His clarity in the situations.

Wednesday, as I prayed and sought counsel, the Lord led me to this conclusion: I was not called here for the personages.  I was called to the church, the school, and my 1st and 2nd graders.  He promised me a year ago that when I walked through the open door, He would provide a new anointing.  And I believe Him.

Tuesday, March 28, 2023 was a monument of God’s grace in bringing me through my first year of teaching.  The days ahead seem dark.  Ominous.  Lonely.  But I declare now, and fix my heart upon this belief, that March 28, 2024 will be yet another Ebenezer in my life.   A year from now God’s grace will prove to be just as sufficient as it ever has been.  His blood will be known to work as effectively as the day it was shed.  And God will show once again that the plans the devil has made to defeat the church of the Lord Jesus Christ have been utterly turned on their head.