Some times, like yesterday when a little nine year old boy and I were bonding about the Ryan Lewis/Mackelmore song about the Seattle Mariners, are wonderful. They are really great kids and I love spending my Sundays with them.
Other times, I go home feeling like a limp rag that has been rung out and dropped to the ground and then kicked around awhile.
It is usually the hardest part of my week. We have a whole bunch of kids which is wonderful and overwhelming. I was having a problem finding enough classrooms for the children to meet in. We have children with special needs and children with unsettled home lives. We have around 75 children between the ages of 3-11 that are missing lunch and sitting through 3 hours of church...so you know, not much to deal with.
During the past week, when confronted with new and ongoing challenges, I finally gave up. I went from constantly thinking, "I can do this, I can do this..." to realizing, "I really can't do this." I remembered (again) that as much as I love these children and want what's best for them, they have a Heavenly Father who knows and loves them better. He loves me too--and will help me.
I went to bed thinking, "He will help me."
Because I didn't know what else to think.
And guess what? The lesson I need to keep reminding myself of was made manifest again. Everything slid into place. Ideas popped into my head that seemed workable. I checked in with all the smart people that know the children and circumstances and I got their input. They gave me creative solutions to make more space happen. (Magic!) I thought and prayed and thought and tweaked and planned and prayed and thought.
Yesterday worked amazingly well. There was a feeling of calm where before there had been chaos. I didn't go home feeling like I'd been hit by a truck. It was wonderful.
I should have given up a long time ago.