Identity

*UPDATE*


I am SO sorry if anyone saw this post with the gross image attached.  Still trying to figure out how that happened!  I never could see it, no matter how many times I logged out and back in or switched browsers; I was still seeing the thumbprint image.  I'm thinking that would be a tribute to our awesome internet filter.  (Thanks, SafeEyes!) Also, is anyone else contemplating the irony that a post entitled "Identity" would get hacked?  Huh.  

*Original Post*
I was so blown away by the sweet responses of my sweet mama friends to my anxiety post.  Those, combined with some chats with my own sweet mama and another dear friend (who had 4 kids in 3 years; the first two were twins!) around my mama's age, things are making a lot more sense.

First off, a teacher-turned-SAHM-friend of mine pointed out that she felt weird not going back to work at the beginning of the year when she was expecting her first.  Wow, did she nail it on the head!  I realized that this is the first time in 21 years that I'm not attending school in fall...no wonder I feel all off my game!  Two other former teacher friends pointed out the exact same thing.  Funnily enough, in the past couple of weeks I've had to fill out various forms for various reasons and have hit that "occupation" line with confusion and a certain feeling of shame.  I will proudly write "mother" in a few weeks, but right now, do I write "nesting"?  Because if the amount of time I've spent looking at baby hats on Etsy is any indication, nesting is a full-time job and then some! 

It's funny how much teaching has become such a part of who I am, because I never even planned to teach; it just sort of happened.  There were parts of teaching I absolutely hated, but other parts that gave me a true sense of joy and accomplishment.  Believe me, I do not miss the super-stressful beginning of the year.  I will not miss meetings that last 45 minutes to choose a middle school t-shirt color.  I will not miss report cards.  I will not miss grading essays.  I will not miss coming home utterly spent.  But I already miss my team; I miss the kids and I will miss their often hilarious writing.  I will miss teaching kids what makes stories so excellent.  I will miss helping them connect these stories to their lives.  I will miss using allegory to share the Gospel.

My identity is changing in a big way.  Not only am I losing that "teacher" title, I've also lost "Young Life Staff Wife."  Much of my adult life has been shaped by that title, as difficult as that's been at times as well.  I had tears streaming down my face at the staff lunch at camp, a mere three days before we left staff, as I listened to the camp director talk about the trials, joys and blessings of raising your kids while on Young Life staff.  No doubt he brought it up because there were something like 4 pregnant people in the room.  I thought that was going to be us, our lives, our kids.  Huge change.  Yet what do those titles really mean?  What do they really say about who I am and what I'm about and what I have to give our family?  I love to teach.  I love stories.  I love to write.  I love to talk.  I love people.  I love kids.  I love Christ.  Are those things changing?  Not on your life.

I entered a giveaway on www.pioneerwoman.com yesterday by comment with the answer to "Who was your all-time favorite teacher?"  Immediately I thought of Mrs. Susan Taylor, my incredible sixth grade teacher who taught half our classes that year.  But then I thought a little more.  Who is my favorite teacher?  Who has taught me the most about life and love and sacrifice and making it through the every day stuff of life?

My mom.

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