Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Saying Goodbye

To quote Laura, "the funny stuff goes on Facebook."

A week-and-a-half ago, I shut the door on the last nine years of my life (well, really 14 if we're counting from the time I first decided what I would study in college). And really, I'm not sure I was the one shutting the door. I was kind of like that last guest at a party--the scented candles have all been blown out, the food has been wrapped up and put away, the host has begun yawning and talking about the early morning he has tomorrow, yet I stand just far enough from the doorway, about to launch my third retelling of that time the bird attacked my head at Cafe Express to anyone who is still standing around to listen. Finally, the host has no choice but to usher me out the door and to close it graciously but firmly behind me. I walk to my car wondering how I could have overstayed my welcome and hoping that some day, someone will invite me to another party.

I don't even know what to think or what to say when I look back on my teaching career. Sure, I know there were students whose lives I touched, and I may have even helped one young mind or two know how to avoid the dreaded comma splice, but I also see a lot of things I could have done better. I didn't make major mistakes, but there were small mistakes that made me miserable and, ultimately, made it just a little easier to decide who could be "cut out" when the budget wasn't where it needed to be.

Yes, I know it was time for me to leave. I know (as my sweet, well-meaning friends and family keep telling me) that God has a purpose in this and that He is going to give me a great, new opportunity. But that doesn't make this ending hurt any less. I am scared, and I have never felt more alone. (Disclaimer: I have wonderful friends and family who are loving me and supporting me through this, but, ultimately, this is a road that I have to walk with just the Lord.)

I know (as He has done so many times before) God has again called on me to trust Him, and I pray that I can prove myself worthy of that calling.