What I’m learning about God as I pace on the black top and tell 4th grade boys
to pay attention for the 100th time.
. . . .
“AHHH! My butt’s FREEZING!!” a kid yells; I start to laugh.
This is how my shift started outside on the playground today.
In case you're wondering, here's an accurate picture of me today:
There’s nothing quite like 200 recess wild children to show you how truly impatient and irritable you are. Sure the temperature was freezing today too, which sets us all a little on edge when you’re outside in it for 2 hours.
Layers are key but the secret weapon you want in your back pocket (and in both boots. and mittens. and face.) are the hand warmer packets that you shake to activate. (My cousin gave me 2 packs on Sunday and I can’t tell you how loved I felt...) I shake those babies and pretend they’re hot coals that will keep me alive. Then I pile on more layers. In fact, I transform into an unidentifiable human turned giant marshmallow. I got so cold out there today I wished I could have crawled into the belly of those snow creatures on Star Wars, like Han and Luke. Granted, I used to think that scene was disgusting, but now the thought of it warms my heart. All I'm saying is a Tauntaun could have been helpful.
“HEY!” A kid glares at me as I blow my whistle, “That’s loud!”
“Yeah, sorry! It hurts my ears, too.” I say and try to ignore the boy with the runny nose who just told me after I blew my whistle that he put his mouth on it when it was hanging around my neck. I hope he was lying, but don’t think he was. I pry his hands off my lanyard. Either way, it doesn’t matter because I still have to use it.
I felt out of control. I was overwhelmed. It spiked as I corralled the mob of 5th graders to the steps, and my job as the week’s lead to not only let the kids in three at a time, but also in a quiet, calm, respectful state, felt impossible.
“I need three lines guys! Three lines.”
Pushing. Shoving. Screaming. Freezing.
My walkie which is clipped right next to my whistle blasted loudly. A co-worker was asking me to do something about a group of three boys 20 feet from me, who were breaking playground rules. “You need to do something about that. They’re not allowed to do that. Emily?? Can you hear me?”
“Yes.” I just don’t know what to do about that situation in the moment.
A tiny 1st grader breaks through the mob (I’m still not sure how) and starts telling me in a soft voice that he was being mis-treated while 4 rowdy boys yell: “HEY! LOOK BEHIND YOU! THEY’RE IN OUR CLASS AND THEY’RE GOING IN WITHOUT YOU!” Sure enough I looked behind me, forgetting about the tiny little boy who was on the verge of tears, and saw boys sneaking inside smirking at me. “Guys!” I started...
“Emily, you’re gonna need to get those kids off the rails.”
I turn. The boys were still hanging on the rails. “Boys! Off!” I motion. Can they hear me? Or are they playing me?
“RAHHH!” A kid yells in my face. “Haha! HELLOOO! I can see myself in your sunglasses!” “HEY QUIT IT! HE’S PUSHING ME! HEY! STOP. STOP SHOVING! HE’S SHOVING.”
The feeling of overwhelming chaos was growing by the second. I didn’t know what to address first. I took two steps towards the group sneaking in the door without permission. “Back of the line! You know better. All of you know better.” Some ignore me and some take a step of two back while the other kids at the bottom of the steps yell at me. “THEY’RE GETTING AWAY! WHAT! DIDN’T YOU SEE THAT? YOU’RE JUST LETTING THEM?”
My walkie blasts again and I hear: “See those kids walking your way? When you’re done...” before I turn the volume down all the way. Sensory overload.
“Excuse me” a tiny voice says behind me, “I need a bathroom pass.” I fumble around my sack not wanting to take off my mittens to find a pass, trying to hurry.
Time. The time! The kids need to be inside on time. “You three. You may go.” I usher some children inside. I don’t know what happened to the tearful 1st grader. “What! Why did he get to go first?” Crap. I realize I just let in a kid whom I had told to be in the back of the line. “Aw! Are you kidding me?” a boy whines. They’re still upset at the injustice.
I just want to let the wild animals go. “Um, excuse me, they...” “Tell your teacher.” I say, holding the door. I can’t do anything about it.
Yikes. That’s how it went down today. A rowdy group outside like I haven’t seen before and I felt so very incapable of handling them. After work I felt like I had let down my co-workers and the kids (hello pride). I hadn’t been on top of handling the situations with the best attitude and I can’t tell you how thankful I am that I can trust in a God who never gets tired or weary in all the ways humans do. So I will ask for his help to fight against sin, since he is able to give that strength.
God is never out of control. God is never overwhelmed! He’s never frazzled or in survival mode. He doesn't need to escape and wind down. He doesn’t need alone time. He doesn’t wear out.
God doesn’t get tired of listening to us, either. I’ll be honest and say I was tired of hearing requests. God wants the opposite: he wants us to bring everything that is troubling us to him. He tells us that when we do, our souls will find rest. (Matthew 11:28)
That’s amazing!
God always has something to say to us, he always has something for us. God is never silent. His word is alive and his help is there when we ask, which I'm so thankful for.
(and TGIF.)
ps. if anyone knows where you can buy a Tauntuan, I would like that information.
(this post wouldn't be complete without the tauntaun images found here: http://www.aveleyman.com/FilmCredit.aspx?FilmID=5678, http://onesixthscalepictures.blogspot.com/2013/12/sideshow-collectibles-star-wars-deluxe.html, http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Tauntaun)