Mom and Dad came for a visit this weekend. They come at this time every year because of a conference for emergency services workers that is hosted by my city. Dad is a fireman and a paramedic in training in addition to his day job of high school teacher. We also went out to dinner to celebrate their 33rd wedding anniversary.
We took the kids swimming at Mom and Dad's hotel and they had a blast. The kiddie pool was just deep enough that Char could crawl along the bottom with her hands and keep her head barely out of the water. Her legs and feet trailed behind her--she loved it. She really seems like a natural swimmer. The first time we tried to take her out of the water she wiggled away from my Dad and slipped right back into the pool like a little seal. She was exhausted by the time we could get eventually get her out and dried off. Once Emmett got over his initial nervousness we couldn't get him out of the water either.
In addition to all of that I managed to squeeze in a seminar on Sunday School teaching at a local church. I haven't written much about my new job on this blog because I am just not sure what to write. I am still feeling my way around this new territory. I am so unsure of myself and feel like I don't quite have a grip on my feelings yet.
The learning curve is steep. In addition to learning how to teach, I am learning a lot about a church I didn't grow up in, and am nurturing a newfound faith that I am trying to figure out.
I am teaching kids about God and Jesus and how to live a Christian life and feel like an imposter sometimes. I grew up in a home where talking about God and Jesus was frowned upon. It made you one of "them" (you know the ones...the people that knock on your door to ask you about your personal saviour and offer you brochures to their church, usually at a really inconvienent time.) We called ourselves Christians and went to church on Sundays--more often when I was younger. I was never involved in church life outside of Sunday morning. There was a Bible on the bookshelf, but I rarely saw anyone read it.
Now I have not one but two Bibles on my bedside table in different translations and a rosary that a kind friend made for me in the drawer. My kids were baptized in the church we were married in and that means a lot to me. I carefully chose their godmother because she is so special and she has a strong faith. The kids watch Veggietales and I sing The Butterfly Song to them.
I am not going to ask you about your Personal Saviour. I am not going to shove brochures in your hands that warn you of eternal damnation if you don't find Jesus. I am not going to tell you that you are going straight to hell if you tell me that you have been touched by His Noodly Appendage and have no interest in my church. I don't want to be one of "those". I might tell you about Family Fun Night or the craft I am thinking about doing with my students. I want to wear my faith with a quiet confidance. I don't think I am there yet.
Sometimes I wonder how I ended up here. I keep trying and I keep going back because my students are terrific and I am loving getting to know them. They trust me. I just really hope I am not letting them down.