who am i?
God asked Moses to get the Israelites out of Egypt. He asked Noah to build an ark while he flooded the world. He asked a young girl to be the mother of our Savior. He asked David to go out and fight a giant. He asked Jonah to go to Ninevah. He asked Daniel to trust Him in the lion’s den.
Our Father is not scared to ask big things of His children.
He is not scared to ask big things of you.
When He does ask, what are you going to say?
When God told Moses he was charged with the task of getting the Israelites out of Egypt he responded by saying, “Who am I that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”
I have a feeling that Noah, Mary, David, Jonah, Daniel, and so many others said the same thing.
Who am I?
Who am I in my weak, selfish, and imperfect state to do what You are calling me to do?
I have felt this question weighing on me everyday these last six months.
Teaching was my dream. Ever since I was five, I was going to be a teacher. I started off by practicing in the basement with my dolls and slowly made my way up.
I did my student teaching, passed all of my tests, got great ratings from my supervisors, and graduated with a degree in elementary education assuring any school I was well equipped and able to manage a classroom of my own.
And I’ll be honest, I thought I was. Up until this point, I had been pretty successful in everything I put my mind to. I was a quick learner and dedicated to what was in front of me, assuring me a good chance at succeeding. I took pride in being independent and figuring things out on my own.
Here I was, a college graduate with a degree in hand and a job waiting for me back in Colorado. I was feeling good.
Until reality hit.
I had no idea what classroom management strategies I wanted to use. I didn’t know how to set up desks in a classroom to face all the right ways and still promote a sense of collaboration. I didn’t know how to use the copy machine. I didn’t know what a DRA was. I didn’t know how to read my paycheck. I didn’t know how to teach a student with autism. I didn’t know how to handle the students who wouldn’t do their work. I didn’t know how to get a class to actually be quiet. I didn’t know how to handle the difficult parents. I didn’t know anything.
Here I was with 22 students of my own, and I felt like I knew nothing.
College classes and student teaching doesn’t even begin to prepare someone to have a classroom of their own, and I was terrified.
There were many moments where I was fighting the tears, begging them to not come, and all I could think was “Who am I?”
When a parent would get upset with me, when my class wouldn’t listen to me, when no one understood the math lesson, when nothing that day went right, I would just think, “Father, who am I?”
Who am I to hold the minds and hearts of 22 of your precious children? Who am I to hold their future in my hands? Who am I to speak life into them? Who am I to hold a job of such magnitude and significance?
And the answer was always the same, “You are My daughter and My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.”
In time, as I began to see the overwhelming task God had called me to and how insufficient I was to complete it, I fell to my knees every morning.
I lost my pride and attitude of independence, and was filled with humility.
I realized that the true calling He had placed on my life was not one I could do on my own. That in order to be good at what I was doing, to touch all 22 lives, to cover each one in love, I needed him more than ever.
My ability or knowledge was insignificant. My humility and willingness to invite Him into it all was all that mattered.
Every single morning as I spent time with Him, He would remind me of His power, His love, and His grace.
As long as I was a willing vessel, He would speak through me, use me, and fill my days with success.
As I have watched my class grow and learn, I can’t take credit for a single bit of it. When they walk in the hall quietly, do well on their math test, go up in their reading levels, or show kindness to one another, I can’t take credit.
Because I am sure that it is not by my own means that these great things are happening, but it is because of Him.
There is not a moment He is not in the classroom with me.
He infuses me with the patience I need. The love I need. The grace I need. The energy I need.
His power is made perfect in my weakness. It is in my shortcomings that He pulls through. It is in my weakness that He works His magic.
There are moments where I am sitting in my classroom and the tears begin to build up. Because here I am living out my calling. A calling that I now know is too big for me to do alone, but it is in my willingness and obedience that He does His best work.
I may not be saving God’s chosen people. I may not be raising the Savior of the world. I may not be killing a giant.
Instead, I am a teacher, molding His children into future warriors for His kingdom.
So Maliyah, “Who are you?”
You, my sweet girl, are His daughter. One appointed to move mountains, transform hearts, and be His hands and feet.
He has big plans for you, so when He calls you and entrusts you with something, instead of questioning your ability, simply look to Him, recognize your weakness is made perfect by Him, and invite Him into your every moment.
For when you walk in His will, He will give you success.
All my love,