Closed doors

Today in the 100 Days to Brave book, Annie Downs challenged us to write about a door we know is closed. Here’s my story.

Several years ago, I got the notion that I had “done my time” in Edgewood and I deserved a transfer. Several of my coworkers and friends had transferred and suggested that I transfer too. I submitted my paperwork for transferring within county. Some of my friends worked a one of the schools I had selected to transfer to and they each spoke to the principal there on my behalf. As time was drawing near, I had an interview and the principal said he had heard great and fabulous things about me and that I would be offered the transfer. He even said the words, “sometimes people just deserve a break.” I thought “YES! He understands.” I was all set to transfer, and then God started speaking to my heart. I wasn’t being released from Edgewood. As a result, and in obedience, I withdrew my request for transfer.

A few years later, the itch for change came again. I again submitted my transfer request. I selected a school in county were a former assistant principal worked. He spoke highly of me and suggested the principal hire me. I even had dreams where the former AP and I were touring the building as they often do with interviewees, and we paused at a classroom and he handed me the keys and welcomed me to the school. I found out later that he had recommended that the principal hire me, but the principal went in a different direction. I wasn’t too upset, more just disappointed than anything else.

That summer I attended the Global Leadership Summit with members of my church. During one of the sessions, a speaker, I don’t remember which one, gave each participant a piece of a cracked flower pot.  The message was simple. At GLS, sometimes it seems all we do is glorify the overachievers, the super successful, the people who started with 5 or 10 and now serve 5 and 10 thousand, but the truth is most of us weren’t called to those places. Most of us do all the right things and we still don’t see the fruits of our labors. Most of us simply put, have “Hard Callings.” He encouraged us to right on our piece of broken pottery, what our hard calling was. I quickly scribbled, EHS.

I believe it was one or two summers after that, I was blessed to attend Nazarene Youth Conference, NYC. I was still in that phase where I thought maybe, I could leave EHS. I remember one service where the band was leading worship singing some song about following God wherever he leads and I looked around and saw all these teenagers with upraised arms and open hands. I remember thinking, they have no idea what they are saying or committing too. What if God sends them to Africa. Then I heard a soft voice, “I called you to Edgewood.” I was overcome. Here I was thinking, trying and devising a plan to leave the calling God had given me. That’s when I knew. Leaving Edgewood is a closed door for me, at least right now.

Teaching at EHS is a hard calling, but it is my calling.