Changing with the Season

Letting Go with Hope

Life is an amazing adventure.

You are given some control, enough to make you feel at times like the weight of the world is on you. This is especially true when making life-changing decisions like who to marry or what career to pursue. Those weighty decisions are scary.

This year I found myself at a crossroads. I have come to a painful realization. The demands of my current job leave me depleted — with too little left to give at home, and too little left for myself.

This whole school year I have taken time to contemplate and work through the idea of retiring from the job I have come to love. It surprised me how much I would love coaching.

I began this new position in my Title 1 school in the wake of COVID. There were enormous learning gaps to address along with an influx of newcomer students who had little or no formal schooling. During my first week in the job, my mother died. Five months later, Tom’s health began to unravel. From February to April, I stepped away from school to care for him and to adjust to a dramatically different life as caregiver to my brain-injured husband. I returned to school and poured myself into making a positive difference in the lives of the students and staff during a challenging time in education.

Over the past four years, academic growth was steady but slow. There were days when data felt heavy and expectations felt relentless. Yet I can say that children were loved and taught well. Teachers who poured out their hearts were seen and encouraged. Teachers who were struggling were supported, not shamed. I did what I set out to do.

I have worked with three first-year principals during these years. The demands on them were great and I wanted to be a support, though I was still new at the job. I tried to walk the difficult tightrope of being a liaison and messenger for my district and principal. At the same time, I wanted to remain true to my own values and mission as a coach and friend to the teachers I love. I didn’t always succeed. My job had many parts. Each day I chose the highest-impact actions I could see. And then, like the little boy with his fish and loaves, I left my small offering in God’s hands. I trusted Him to take the little and to make it sufficient for the day.

Recently, a teacher told me that I made her feel like she had a place of belonging at our school, something she had not felt at her previous school. She loved sitting in the comfy chair in my office just to talk. I was not her counselor or life coach. I simply listened and cared. When she told me that, I realized again that much of the most important work in education cannot be measured.

I still love what I am doing. That is what makes this decision to leave so tender. But I also know it is time. The season is changing and I must change with it. And perhaps this is the paradox of faith: “Whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” Letting go is not failure. It is trust. It is stepping into the adventure again — not gripping what has been, but receiving what is next.

I want to remember the good. I want to be grateful for the seeds planted and trust that they will continue to grow. I believe God used me. I believe He did His good work through me. And that realization — that I was invited into His work for a season— brings me sweet joy.