Healing

I live in the town of Bowbells, North Dakota.  In my opinion the town is only as good as its inhabitants; and this town is pretty darn great.

My moving to Bowbells was not by my design in the least.  I had been teaching for two years in my home town and found myself on the receiving end of what felt like backstabbing of the century.  When the dust settled I found myself in a community of unmatchable supporters, getting ready to become a father, and not wanting to teach ever again. 

Never teach again; such an odd thought.  I decided that I wanted to teach music in 8^th grade, I was in every last music group my schools had to offer growing up, I graduated on music scholarships, music was in my blood…how could I quit?

I taught two years in my hometown: one year as instrumental and one year as vocal and music tech.  A lifelong dream fulfilled at 25.  At the end of the second year a “storm” of sorts came through and I was in the eye.  My wife, my family, and my friends all stood beside me and supported me the best they knew how.  My students got by the best they could; I've had some close supportive friends in my life, but the support and dedication of a student is a strong and powerful thing not to be taken lightly.

Finally it was over.  I saw adults sitting; some crying, some not.  Many of my students went to the hallway; angry, sad, crying, and some even occasionally hitting the wall.  Somehow I knew already, before the day began, I knew what would happen; and even though I had hoped against all hope that things would turn out different, I was somehow in a sort of peace or maybe shock when the words hit my ears.  I got up to leave and a voice behind me said, "It's not over yet".  I turned and said, "Yes it is.  And even if it isn’t, this isn't where I'm needed".  You see even though I was at a formal meeting, and I respect the execution of formal events, I was also still a teacher… one with students that needed help.  So I left to the hall and let my big shoulders catch a pile of tears.

I finished the year as strong as I can; so very proud of the kids.  Clean out my office, help deliver my son, take the summer off.  No aspirations of ever teaching again.  Didn't look, didn't apply, and didn’t care.  Then one by one, like the first raindrops before a downpour, I received emails and phone calls from the Super. in Bowbells, North Dakota.  More and more he persisted until finally I caved in and went for a visit.  I knew the school pretty well; I had heard and seen the program during my college years and even when I was in Sidney.  Bowbells is a proud school; boasting on numerous achievements both in academic and extra-curricular.  For some reason I felt something push me to take the position.

Towards the end of my first year at BHS I realized that I had not dealt with my leaving Sidney at all.  I had pretty much cut ties with friends and former students (many of them in college now) and told myself that I was "good" and was "over it".  Then out of the blue, during a rehearsal, I realized it...my new students helped me find my passion for music again.  Those little turkeys snuck into my life and showed me the love I once so proudly declared since eighth grade.  Though those Eskimos helped start the healing process it’s still a long road to be walked.

There are so many times in life when we don't allow healing, when we don't accept help, when we don't let love.  Whether our hurt is big or small, inside or outside our body, we don't allow others to help; we prevent healing.  Call it pride, call it human nature, call it whatever...it's just not right.  Do you think that Christ wants you to suffer unnecessarily?  Do you think he wants you to deal with pain alone?  Don't get me wrong there are probably things out there that we have to go through, and some of them maybe even alone, but when time for healing comes, when the time for help comes we must be strong enough to look past ourselves and accept that help and healing. 

Accept a car ride in a blizzard; cry on a shoulder; don't hide from or suppress pain, accept that it is there and accept that your friends, family and Jesus are willing to help you heal through it.

A final thought

A friend wrote me a note during my last few months in Sidney; of the many things she said the one I've held dearest is, "Finish Well."  I know she was writing about my remaining time teaching in Sidney, but it also reminds me that we need to strive to be the best Christians we can be. We must fully rely on God and heed his word/calling so that when our time comes we can all Finish Well.   Thanks Bonnie.