Then I Remember I Am Strong

2 Cor 12:7-10

I intended to meditate today (and for a good part of the day I did) on the difference between a holy person and a prophet.  And how welcome one is wherever they go, even their hometown and perhaps hometown most of all, and how one empathetically is not.  At least not usually.  The daily mass reading was even Jonah and Nineveh, bucking the trend and annoying the prophet.

But the end of today illuminated something about the elusive St. Paul's thesis.

Toward the end of today a couple of things went wrong in rehearsal.  Big things, like dinner being almost an hour and a half late...and accidentally telling them that the food was there 45 minute before it arrived and having to settle their instinct to riot...yeah, I literally had to calm a riot today.

I did it by standing on a chair above them and singing the first lines of "La Vie Boheme" then "Story of Tonight"...and then the riot became a shout-sing old musicals a capella time.  It was still 20 minutes until I could corrale them back to work but...I could sense my moment.  I knew them.  I knew them as a crowd and as individuals.  I realized I remembered I can read them.

Sympathetic parents offered help because they could see me struggling.  Kind parents who are fellow teachers made a point of telling me how much their children love me and how they could tell I was doing a good job with the crew from watching.

People don't have to remind you you're a good teacher when you feel like one.

The most impressive teaching moments don't happen on perfect, smooth, organized days.

When I am weak, then I am reminded I am strong.