Confessions of a Teacher on the Edge of Quitting

Today was a hard day. When I have days like this, I have moments that might seem familiar to a recovering addict. I call my “sponsor” (in this case, my sister) defeated and deflated from a day filled with unspeakable hard things. I imagine myself as a reluctant speaker in the recovery meeting, sitting in my metal folding chair, fiddling with my chipped coffee cup, contemplating whether I should share my story. I stand pensively and trudge up to that podium where I say in a broken voice, 

“Hi, my name is Jessica, and I’m a teacher.”

Now, before I lose you, I am not in any way downplaying the harsh realities of addiction and recovery. I’ve seen what addiction can do, and it’s not something I would ever make light of. My hope is that you will use the analogy as a way of understanding the purpose of this piece. 

I’d continue with my story, “It’s been 7 days since I wanted to quit. But today, I relapsed when I  packed up all of my personal things, placed them in my car, and drove off campus- swearing I’d never step into a classroom again.” 

A staggered breath would escape my lips. 

“You see, I never wanted to be a teacher. I knew too many of them. Professional and extremely educated men and women navigating the turbulent waters of the US education system. I had my opinions– opinions that I won’t dive into at the moment because this isn’t the place for it.” 

I’d stare down at my trembling, ink-stained hands.

“But if I’m honest, sauntering down this educator path was inevitable. Almost everything about me screams “Teacher!” in shrill, unmistakable cries. I’m good at it, and I’ve loved it. I also feel like this is where God has placed me right now. Thus, the reason why my weekly and, at times, daily decisions to quit cause tremendous grief within me. It’s a hard job.”

“And me? I’m no stranger to hard things. I’ve endured a lot and could probably say I’m the poster child for resilience. But teaching is a different level of hard. So for someone like me to want to throw in the towel…” 

Tears would end the speech right there. I’d be silenced by my heartbreak.

This story may resonate with you on varying levels. Maybe you know an educator who has shared tearful or angry stories with you about the difficult and unique complexities of the job. Or perhaps, you’re an educator, and you know what it feels like to have your stomach tighten, head throb, and blood pressure rise at the thought of returning to school. You could also be a recovering addict, relating all too well to returning to something that is (or feels like) it is slowly killing you. 

To teach is to answer a call. Like many calls, the joyful moments can be hard to find sometimes. For me, the longer I remain in this role, the less joy I seem to find. 

A few months ago, I realized that I was falling out of love with my job. Plagued by a perfect storm of reasons that I cannot get into, my aching heart fractures a little more each day I step onto the campus.

Would I actually quit? Should I quit? Sure, for general unhappiness. But to quit a call? Who am I to tell God that I don’t want to do this anymore? 

I cannot forsake a divine placement. It’s not in me to do it. I’ve lost the taste for the “thrills” of being on the run from God’s will. 

So I must ask myself- How can I cope? Obedience to God’s calls doesn’t erase the hardness from life. In fact, the Bible mentions that our days will be short and full of trouble (Job 14:1). We should expect it. So why am I struggling so much with this one thing?

Wrestling with this caused me to reflect on God’s Word. In 2 Corinthians 12:1-10, Paul is telling a story about a thorn in his flesh. He explains the reason for the thorn in verse 7, stating that he was given a thorn in his flesh to keep him from being proud (or boastful) after a divine encounter. 

Despite Paul’s ailment, which can be presumed to cause him great distress, he begins to boast about his weakness. Verse 9 says that God’s grace is sufficient and His power works best in our weakness.

I love that passage. God gives us grace for the unbearable things in life.

When we’re sick– grace.

When we’re brokenhearted- grace.

When we’re waiting for God to move– grace.

When we’re grieving– grace.

When we feel lonely– grace. 

No matter where we feel weak or how we struggle, God’s grace covers us. Paul continues to write that he boasts about his weaknesses so that the power of Christ can work through him. Verse 10 says, “That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

In my hard days, I can remember Paul’s words and seek contentment in the place where God has placed me. God desires to strengthen me in my weak moments. God desires to shower His grace upon you. God desires us to find joy in the suffering we see because we do it for his sake, for his glory, and it is our privilege.

Does that mean that the feelings related to my troubles aren’t valid? No. God cares about how we feel. But, we need to remember how God works and that our hard thing is not too hard for Him. We are covered by grace. It is in the hard that we find God’s grace.

Let us pray. 

Spirit of the living God, fall fresh on us! I thank you that each day you show us new mercies and that your grace covers every part of our lives. Thank you for being gracious in the hard places of our lives. Thank you for renewing strength within us and flexing your infinite power in our weak places. We will worship you in those spaces of life that cause anguish and pain because when we are weak, then we are strong. In Jesus’ name, Amen. a