When I was in grade school, we celebrated the 100th
Day of School like it was a national holiday. We had to bring in 100 items from
our house. Many of my classmates got creative with this task, while I usually
counted out 100 Cheerios on the way to school. My favorite part of the day was when we made our goodie bags with 100
pieces of different snacks. Forget any other goodie bag you’ve ever had; hands
down, these were the best. There’s no reason as to why; fact was fact. We
carried our Ziploc bags around all day,
trying to make the goodies last.
When I got to high school, the 100th Day of
School marked 80 more days left of the year. This is when things kicked into
high gear. We didn’t get to celebrate with goodie bags and Show & Tell.
Instead, the teachers (ever so kindly) told us how far behind we were, how our
grades were suffering, what we still had to learn before the looming AP or IB
exams,
when our next exams would be.
The 100th Day of School in high school was a
stress inducer.
I’m a top notch procrastinator, and the 100th Day
of School was just an unkind reminder of all the things I’d put off but needed
to get done and done well. Soon. I started doubting myself and my efforts up to
that point in the year.
Today marks 80 more days in Brasil.
The past two weeks, I’ve really been struggling with what
I’ve done up till now, and what I need to be doing during my remaining days. I
was disappointed in myself. I wasn’t happy or pleased with what I was seeing as
the result of my actions. I wasn’t doing bad
or wrong things; I just wasn’t doing
my best. I was doubting myself and my
ability to really
serve here in São Leopoldo.
I was starting to get mopey and stressed like on the 100th
Day of (high) School. I forgot to look at how far I’ve come. I forgot that I
should be celebrating the small victories experienced everyday. I lost sight of
the vision.
Good news: I lost sight only for a moment.
I choose today to celebrate like we did in grade school.
Instead of making a fabulous goodie bag, I’m going to eat some fabulous
chocolate Chris brought back from his week in Europe. Instead of showing and
telling about my bad of Cheerios, I’m going to post pictures. There could
easily be 100 of those. Instead of stressing about AP and IB exams, I’m going
to relish in all the things I’ve learned so far.
Don’t get me wrong, even in grade school, the 100th
Day of School was a bit nerve racking. However, those grand Morgan County
teachers, our pseudo moms and dads, made the day fun. They never lost sight of
the
upcoming CRCT or reading levels that needed a boost.
Just shifted them to
the side to make room for a celebration.
Today is a beautiful, windy day in São Leopoldo. I can hear
my Brasilian brothers playing outside my window. I just enjoyed a churrasco for
lunch. I have clean clothes drying as I type. I am about to watch the
greatest
football team play.
Today, I have 80 more days left. I’m not counting down. And
I’m not going to stress. I know the importance of these last 80 days, and I
pray with all my might my efforts and actions are my best.
Lord, thank You for
those goodie bags. Thank You for the rustle of the leaves because of the
breeze. Thank You for loving me enough to tell me “Get your act together, Taylor.
There’s work to be done.” I pray you hold my team close to Your heart; I pray
we take each breath totally in sync with You. I pray You’re with our
supervisors, our host homes and our friends. I pray they can see the reflection
of YOU in US. God, I pray to
love You with my whole heart.
Happy “Non-100th-Day-of-School!” Vivo Inter!
Taylor Lea
For I know that the
Lord is great, and that our Lord is above all gods. … He it is who makes the
clouds rise at the end of the earth, who makes lightnings for the rain and brings forth the wind from His storehouses.
Psalm 135:5,7
I pray that from His
glorious, unlimited resources He will empower you with inner strength through His
Spirit. Then Christ will make His home in your hearts as you trust in Him. Your
roots will grow
down into God’s love and keep you strong.
Ephesians 3:16-17
No comments:
Post a Comment