If one could put a price on pain, my current level would be worth at least five blog entries.
I could write about rejection. About not being appreciated. I could rant and rail against all the perceived hurts, injuries and injustices done to me. Inversely, I could turn the tables and rant and rail about my own self-centeredness, lack of appreciation for others, and about how I deserve much worse.
All of these entries would be true and I may visit them in the future, but this article is about what to do with all this pain; become resentful. Uh… wait, that’s what I want to write. What I will write is about forgiveness. The medicine no one wants to take themselves. Make others take it? Sure. Take it ourselves? Not so much.
So what is causing me such pain, such feelings of rejection and of not being appreciated?
As I prepare to write of the thorn in my side it seems so inconsequential (because it is) but even splitters can go gangrene.
I didn’t win the “Teacher of the Month” award. And I shall never win it. At least not from the school campus where I have worked and given so much of myself over the past five years. Yesterday was the last day at my current school. Where I will be in August is still in limbo, but where I will be not is positive.
And I deserved to win it at least once. We have many great teachers at my newly old school. But I easily rank in the top 10 as far as commitment, time spent with students outside of school time, passion for teaching and willingness to help any and everyone that needed help (staff or student).
But it availed me not. True, I could look at the silver lining that my students nominated me over a dozen times, and I was honored with an even bigger accolade by a former student this year (an award I wouldn’t trade for a dozen Teacher of the Month Awards). And their acceptance of me is very meaningful, but it makes more glaring the choice of my peers to reject me.
Why is it that what we want, we don’t receive, but what we don’t appreciate, we have plenty of?
I’ve truly been a blessed man. I have wonderful parents, family, friends, wife, children (5 at last census), health, abilities, talents, intelligence, education, employment and sense of humor (one which I enjoy way too much). God has blessed me and so at this point in the conversation that I’ve had with myself I become ashamed at my selfishness. I shouldn’t care about this award or recognition by my peers. I should be thankful for all that I have… and I am. But denying the splinter because the rest of the body isn’t punctured isn’t wholesome.
Now comes the rub. I can’t deny the feelings of rejection and lack of appreciation nor can I deny that I’ve been blessed. I have been blessed by my school, principal, students and fellow staff members so much over the last eight years (five at my most recent campus), to let it end on such a downer isn’t a good summation. It would work for the Coen brothers but I prefer the typical Hollywood endings when it comes to my own life. Let the artsy people walk around depressed all the time, I’ll gladly accept my sugar coated reality.
The answer? I get to choose between resentment and forgiveness. And the choice while easily stated isn’t so easily chosen. Resentment brings with it all the favors of any great pity party. Forgiveness is a bitter pill to swallow. Resentment is like candy as it goes down.
Never mind what is contained beneath the coating; placebo or miracle medicine. You can only tell them apart by their fruit – what the medicine actually does.
One gives you ulcers, the other a good nights rest. One makes you jaded and jilted, the other joyful and upwards tilted (and bad at the rhyme, anyone for lemon, lime?).
One we become our own advocate, avenger, and herald of our own case. The other we allow God to vindicate, justify and champion our cause.
As far as my choice?
I couldn’t even pretend that I’m deserving of the Teacher of the Month Award if I chose …
Wait, before I tell you what my choice is, I should ask you for your advice about what I should do?
Warning: Taking one’s own medicine isn’t as easy as it sounds.
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