Perfect

Dear reader,

It’s a Friday afternoon, another week of teaching has gone by, and I just need to share. (Thank you in advance for letting me share.)

“I remember a girls’ night with our missionary friends on a cool, clear evening in Soddo. We were playing games and talking, and at one point everyone was asked: ‘What has living in Ethiopia taught you?’ My answer then was: ‘I’m not perfect.'”

Living in Ethiopia was a real eye-opener, a masterclass in learning about my imperfections. No wonder most of my blog posts from that missionary year are about self-improvement.

But do you know what else has taught me that I’m not perfect?

Teaching. Every single hour in the classroom teaches me that I’m not perfect.

Maybe I’m at a stage in life where the big lesson is: “Become aware of your deficiencies.” “Become REALLY aware of your deficiencies.” “ALL OF THEM.”

 

Maybe this is just a standard part of the growing-up process.

Strangely, my ever-increasing recognition of my inadequacy (and inadequacies) doesn’t stop me from teaching. It doesn’t stop me from loving, loving, teaching. It doesn’t stop me from wanting to do everything, everything, I possibly can to serve my students. On the contrary: even when I’m feeling particularly disheartened, the first thing I do when I leave the classroom is write up my ideas for how to make the next class more successful.

 

I’m not perfect.

 

But I want to be.

 

Until next time, reader, and thank you for reading.

Yours,
Paula