Pride Goeth etc.

I am not a superstitious person, but I find myself sorely tempted to knock on wood or cross my fingers the next time I write a post like that last one.

I had, in a sense, been expecting it, but when it came it was still an unwelcome, even humiliating, development. On Friday, my day off, my boss, Bruce, called me. He asked me if, the next day, I would like to cancel my classes and instead have a day-long clinic on lesson planning. I agreed, of course.

It was handled in the most kind and helpful way imaginable (Bruce is a great guy). Every allowance was made for my inexperience and lack of education. The obvious intent was to help and not to chastise. Most importantly, it really did give me a much better idea of what I wasn't doing correctly and/or sufficiently in my classes. This, however, was the irksome aspect of things: I didn't want it to be necessary to improve my performance. It is a childish and unrealistic way to look at things, no doubt, and a reflection of a flaw in my personality. However, the fact is that this helpful, necessary, gracefully administered and completely constructive criticism rankled severely when it collided with my pride. Let me be clear: this was not a legitimate feeling in any possible way, it was a fit of pique. To my meager credit, I recognized immediately how silly I was being, and managed to keep it all inside, to the extent that I was praised for my attitude by Bruce.

I felt much better the following evening when Steven, Jane, and their family (cf pictures in this post) threw me a little impromptu birthday dinner, complete with a cake and presents from each member of the family. It was a thoughtful gesture, and I was deeply moved. We played a slightly modified version of pickup sticks, chatted, laughed, ate (I finally know what is meant by "goulash." I was quite satisfied) and I relaxed and got almost completely over my internal tantrum from the previous day, or so I thought. The next day went quite well, highlighted by a cake that was made for me by Bruce's wife *ahem* I mean by Bruce. It was amazing cake, some kind of sticky chocolaty thing, not too sweet but sweet enough- in a word, ambrosial. I ate so much of it I ended up taking my lunch home with me.

The week began stressfully, since progress reports came out today. This is encouraging from the standpoint that I am now 1/8 finished with the year, but made things difficult since it required me to get caught up on the (shamefully large!) amount of work which I had been procrastinating. Piling this onto a completely new and more involved lesson planning process made for not a lot of sleep. I was making some progress on Monday and Tuesday, but then I woke up Wednesday morning feeling miserably ill. Sore throat, stomach pain, the works.

I went to school that day, teaching my classes while feeling like somebody had tried to clean out my throat with steel wool, and then stayed after school for two hours entering grades (I got it done, praise God!). I went home and went to sleep almost immediately, about 6:30 PM. I woke up at 2:00 this morning feeling even more miserable and literally unable to speak above a whisper due to the condition of my throat. I slept fitfully until about 5:00 , drinking nearly 4 liters of water in the interval (I filled and emptied my 2-liter bottle twice), and then decided that trying to teach classes in my condition would be futile. So, I called in sick, for the second time in 5 weeks.

Robin (the principal and the person I called) recommended that I go to the doctor and get checked for strep, which I did. The doctor took about 5 minutes to tell me that there were no signs of any infection, and what I had were allergies. He did not say "and allergies are no reason to miss another day of work this week, you limp-wristed puling weakling," but had he said it, I would have agreed. My chagrin, beginning then and still continuing at this moment, would be difficult to overstate.

Was I honest with myself when I decided I wasn't able to get through one more day, or did I seize on the first excuse to shirk my responsibilities and loaf all day? Can a man who spends over 10% of his working days (this is a mathematically correct figure so far) lying at home sipping water and watching boring daytime TV be trusted at all with a task as important as teaching children? Or, for that matter, with any task more involved than flipping burgers or digging ditches? My own weakness and incapacity, in which (following Paul's example) I ought to boast, instead have me kicking myself in the teeth and wishing anybody but me had recieved the call to do this job.

The doctor suggested a treatment which is working well so far, so that problem is near enough to being solved. I'd appreciate your prayers for an attitude adjustment, to allow me to quit emotionally self-mortifying and have faith that, whatever my shortcomings, they are not too big for God to handle. I need to recover that Psalm 27 attitude (see the last few paragraphs of this post), and start seeing the times when I fail as an opportunity for God's power to shine more obviously through me. Pray that this discouraging week, having already maimed my faith in my own abilities, will proceed now to increase my faith in and reliance on God's. Right now, my knee-jerk response to the whole thing is one of wounded pride. Sadly, it's only wounded; God, please finish it off! I don't want it in my life and neither do You.

There is a silver lining, however. How frustrated I am when not doing my job adequately has made me realize that I love it. I don't mean this in the sense that what I do is particularly enjoyable in itself, although it can be. Rather, I love my job because it causes the kind of passion evident in what I've written here.

If I missed a day of one of my other jobs, I generally thought of it in purely pragmatic terms; what were my coworkers going to think or say, how would it affect my standing with my bosses, was I in danger of being fired, etc. When I miss a day of this job, I am frustrated at the lost opportunity to pour more of myself into it, even though that might be a painful and debilitating process. There's a sense of purpose involved in doing what I'm doing that has been extremely rare in my life up until now, and has certainly never coincided with what I spent the majority of my time on. I love my job for beginning (or at least accelerating from its previous glacial pace) my transformation from a self-centered, indolent child into a man who might someday merit the greatest description to which a human being can aspire: servant.

Updates

I haven't blogged in a week. I must be slipping. My apologies to my loyal readers (both of you :-P).

Last week at this time I was cripplingly ill. I vomited early in the morning and then slept all day. The likely culprit is some bad mayonnaise at a local snack joint. I know of two other people who ate the same item at the same restaurant within 24 hours of my doing so, and they were also sick. Fortunately, they and I both got over it fairly quickly, within one day in fact. I was back at school teaching as if nothing had happened the next day.

This past weekend was a 3-day weekend which was desperately needed and ardently desired. I must admit that I wasted a lot of it, if you consider relaxation a waste. Some things I didn't get accomplished: cleaning my room, doing laundry, doing dishes, shopping for some items. What I did accomplish, however, is higher on my priority list than any of that: I felt ready and more than ready to go back to school on Monday. I needed the time to wind down and relax without responsibilities hanging over my head, and when it presented itself, I grabbed it with both hands. This, I feel, was the correct decision, and if my mother would be horrified by the shape my room is currently in, I hope she would be mollified to some degree by the shape my mind is in.

I'm teaching about Greek mythology in a couple of classes. This is turning out to be lots of fun. The kids are definitely interested, and I love telling stories, which is what I do for most of class. Good times.

This evening (Tuesday) I was treated to dinner at Fuddrucker's in honor of my birthday. I invited a couple of co-teachers, and the vice-principal, Bruce, and his wife, Sue, were also there. It didn't make me forget home-cooked fried chicken or anything, but it was a very satisfying and congenial meal, with an unheard-of luxury for this country: ranch dressing! I couldn't have asked for a more timely present. My morale is considerably raised.

I am, generally speaking, in high spirits. My readers who also have facebook may have noticed that I read a long book, absolutely detested it, and wrote a long diatribe against it. To the observant reader, this should indicate a few things about my current situation. First, I have the energy to get really exercised over a work of literature. This is a good sign, it wasn't the case a few weeks ago. Second, I have the time to respond in written form. And third, I have access to literature, which in my case is a psychological benefit not to be underestimated.

My roommate has discovered a source of cheap steaks, and he grills them about once a week. I'm well fed, well read, working hard and pretty happy.

Observation: John Piper would love this country. A common greeting is "kiifak" or "kiif halak" (literally "how is your health") and a common response is "Alhamdulillah" which literally means "God's glory" or "ashkurallah" which means "I thank God." There is a very healthy attitude about God's involvement in day-to-day life here, which humbles me and which I am striving to emulate. Accordingly, glory to God for how well things are going!

Please pray that the school would find some more staff, even on a very temporary basis. What I've said in previous posts still applies, and there is a not insignificant risk of teacher burnout, especially among new and inexperienced teachers (by which I mean myself). Pray also for wisdom in dealing with local folks and to say the right things at the right times.

I miss you all.

Addendum

Don't worry folks, mail sent to the previously provided address will still arrive, even if the school's name isn't first. The previous address isn't the school's, it belongs to a friend of mine. However, I'll get things faster if they're sent to the school address (the one given in the previous post) and if you do that, make sure you put the school name first. We clear?