June 22, 2009
It’s hard to put into words how I feel about ESL classes. Or teaching outside of the context of Sunday mornings, Vacation Bible School, and bible studies, for that matter. It terrifies me. Most interactions with people frighten me, to be honest. I’ve built up so many walls over the years for various reasons that I’ve forsaken most of the people skills everyone around me seems to have. It feels easier and safer to shut myself off, to smile and nod and share nothing of myself besides the things I do. I have this idea in my head it’s better to lock everything inside and make sure every single piece of my broken heart is picked up so it won’t be trampled on by the judgment of others.
Maybe that’s why I am so scared of teaching. I don’t want to be judged. To steal a phrase from A Knight’s Tale, “[I] have been weighed, [I] have been measured, and [I] have been found absolutely wanting….” by many of my peers over the years. Add that to the knowledge that this will continue to be the case for years to come, and, well… maybe you can understand my desire to avoid such judgment like the plague.
But when you’re out on the mission field, there is no room for such fears if you are going to let God step in and make you His ambassador to the people you are sent to. I can’t count how many scriptures that either I’ve come across in reading the Bible or have been pointed out in a sermon which state clearly this type of judgment is part of the path we are called to walk down.
Even armed with that knowledge, sitting in the classroom with five of my teammates, six students, and the regular teacher is difficult. Knowing that we’re not going to be teaching today, just sitting in with the class and having one-on-one conversations after they’ve gone through their homework doesn’t help much. I am shutting down.
It’s not until Jean, the teacher (who I had talked to earlier about The World Race), points out to the student from Romania that I would be going there next year that I start a conversation with anyone. It doesn’t last long. Either I’m boring, or else she’s just not interested anymore because I don’t know where exactly in the country I will be going.
That’s when a funny thing happens. Lien, who is from Vietnam and in the class, is interested in hearing about the trip. We sit, and we start talking about the Race. The conversation turns from that to family to Vietnam, and before I know it, we are being herded out of the classroom. When all of the students are gone, I am exhausted… but encouraged. They don’t – and probably never will – know what they’ve shown me. For all the people who have no interest in me in this world, there is one who cares to know and love me dearly. His name is Jesus, and as long as I have him, I have everything. I need nothing else.
(me and Alissa after ESL)
