I don’t know how pastors do it. Our pastors have been so good to us. They pray with us and for us, visit us in the hospital, sit with us during surgery, and call to check up on us. They shake our hands at church and genuinely want to know how we are. They know things. Real things. They know us at our core- who we are- and they love us anyway. They know we have doubts occasionally, understand our cries, and they hold our hands. All the while, they plan lessons, sermons, celebrations, funerals, visit shut-ins, host bible studies at nursing homes, and even visit prisons to share the gospel. Might I also add that our pastors run building operations, plan for mission trips, support missionaries, run committees, work school clubs, and still show up for lunch with students or various sporting events that our youth are involved in. They live a life that is ALL-IN.
Teachers are similar. We love our kids. I didn’t choose teaching as a way to get summers off. I chose to be an educator because I genuinely love helping students achieve their full potential. Last week, my daughter had surgery. There have been pre-op appointments, insurance calls, medical equipment deliveries, post-op visits and physical therapy tied up around her issues. Thankfully, my mom was here and took the brunt end of most things. Why? Because I’ve already missed 3 months of work with this same daughter as she completely herniated her entire lumbar spine in October.
My daughter’s issues and the stress around my family is not what has my heart exhausted. It’s my students. I know them, love them, and while I care about their academic success, I mostly care about who they are as people. I make it a point to know and invest in their families, often at the expense of time away from my own family. I pray for them. I know by looking at their face how their morning went at home. I know who’s grandma is in the hospital, who’s aunt died last week, who’s family pet got in a fight and spent the night the vet, who spent the night with who, who didn’t get invited to the party, and who can/ cannot afford the full amount for the field trip. I pay for things- including lunches- and bring extra snacks for students who are sometimes just hungry. I write nurse passes for tummy aches, look under the stalls for the feet of students that take too long in the restroom, and do bus duty in the freezing cold rain. I tutor kids before school, keep kids in for working lunches, and I try to plan lessons that are fun, engaging and differentiated. It’s the one kid, though, who I know is struggling the most that keeps me awake at night. It’s the kid I can’t reach that has me shedding tears- so many tears, in fact, that I have been physically ill. I developed a sty in my eye as a result of wiping my tears from my face, hoping to conceal my concern in front of others. Two doctor’s visits, 3 different eye drops and oral antibiotics as well as two full days in bed is what it has taken to calm my eye down. Yet, every time it waters, I am reminded of the child I am desperately praying for.
I know my pastors do the same. I’m so lucky to be surrounded by people who love and genuinely care about me and my family. I do not know how our pastoral staff deals with so much except for that they continually give it to God. I am not sure why I am writing this, but maybe it is to remind us to pray for our preachers and teachers. It is exhausting and overwhelming to care so deeply about the people we are ministering to. Maybe the point is to encourage someone to share the load by volunteering, visiting shut-ins, or making dinner for someone. After all, haven’t we ALL been called to serve?
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