Today, after waiting for a week for the students to finish filling in bubbles on standardized tests, I finally taught my first lesson at Lincoln Elementary School. Maybe the gossip in the teachers’ lounge will die down now that all the teachers can apply their creativity to regular lesson plans, but I doubt it. I’m just excited that these third graders are much better behaved than the third graders at El Camino. My good cooperating teacher has a lot to do with their good behavior.
I live in a house within walking distance of my school. I love my ten-minute commute: under the bridge, over the Metra tracks, around the corner, over the Cal Sag, and through the parking lot. It’s a routine that reminds me where I am, what I am doing, and what season it is, which is good because sometimes I get confused. It’s almost spring in Illinois, and I am a teacher. My bedroom is cold, but my classroom is hot, which I didn’t notice until I was teaching today.
In Bogotá the seasons don’t change, which is a shame and a blessing. It is a blessing because it is beautiful. But this past summer, huddled in the basement with the windows still boarded up because of the snow, I shared a poem about mountains and valleys, and many friends from many places agreed: we humans need the winter to appreciate the spring, pain to appreciate comfort. Until our eyes see better, we need some darkness to see. And what I see is a world looking for something better.
I am waiting to get married. Being engaged is wonderful, but I want something better. Living in a house is wonderful, but it just makes me want to be home with Ryan even more.
Lord willing, we will find our home in Bogotá. I left a big bag of clothes and toiletries there, at the home of another missionary teacher, in good faith that I will be back as Mrs. McKeever. I will teach English as a second language and Ryan will teach Bible as second nature. We are looking forward to teaching and discipling students from all around the world and participating in a community of Christians who are reaching out to Bogotá. And Ryan is looking forward to learning Spanish.
In about a month, I’ll be coming back from spring break. In two months I’ll be almost graduated. In three months and four days I’ll be married. And then about a month later we’ll move to Bogotá with either one hundred or two hundred pounds of earthly possessions, depending on the airline. Deo volente, Dios mediante, Lord willing. And how do we know what the Lord wills? We look at what he has given us, and what he has prepared us for. We read his word and listen to his people, and we keep praying.
Please pray for us as I teach in Blue Island and as we prepare to teach in Bogotá.