What Happened on St. Pope John Paul II's Feast Day

 It was October 22. I knew what happened on this day last year. And I knew I had to talk to my class about the saint who's feast day it was, St. Pope John Paul II! 

Last year, I was in a hard place at a difficult school and environment. To help me create a little spiritual inspiration, I thought of a saint for each class period to help me pray to that saint and create more inspiration and prayer. For the first period class I was in, I chose St. Pope John Paul II to think of and intercede for me. Somehow, during the morning time while walking across campus, it always felt dull, dreary and uninspiring. I was mentally in a hard place transitioning to the school, and it didn't ever seem to get much better or easier. 

This feeling in the morning made me think of St. John Paul II working in unpleasant conditions during Nazi and Communist regime, him waking up in the early morning hours, the stillness, the prayerfulness, the suffering and sacrifice, and his small, loving family dwindling with sickness and death until it was only him. This sorrow in his early life, discernment, and deep prayer and spiritual life made it a little richer and easier for me. It created a sense of hope and purpose. 

One day, as I was walking across campus at the end of the day, I already was experiencing loneliness, with not a lot of people to connect with and talk to on a deeper level, yet desiring this, and noticing this ache, this gap. The person who I passed by at that moment was an employee I had seen before once or twice from a far. I wasn't sure if she was a teacher, but in my heart, I heard God say something like, I would become friends with her.

Just a few short weeks later, I heard that the teacher who taught in the first period class would be leaving for bereavement leave. She would be having a long-term sub for the rest of the school year, and the students would be meeting her tomorrow to get acquainted. 

The next day was October 22nd- the feast of St. Pope John Paul II and the long-term sub was the young woman I passed by that one day a few weeks ago. Her experience becoming a long-term sub teacher inspired me and gave me a sense of courage, realization and desire that maybe I could teach too. 

This year, for St. John Paul II's feast day, I told my students some stories and information about him for a few minutes. I even asked some questions to see what they may know. They were intrigued listening, right up until lunch time. I know he's been with me and interceded for me. He has done so much for the Catholic Church, our faith, and spiritual lives. I'm sure it won't be the last time I talk about him. 

Going Back to that Library

 It was my first time going back to that library after 2 years. I avoided it. I didn't want to relive unpleasant and difficult memories. When I was working as an intern there, I would deeply miss and crave helping students and working at a school. My heart longed for that once again. But no, I was here, stuck here- counting the weeks and hours like no tomorrow. Time would pass slowly, increasingly so. I would try to survive with prayers, offering up intentions, and forming my own inspiration for goals, ideas and books to read. 

While shelving children's books, I once saw a tutoring session happen in the quiet of the early Fall evening.  I was across the way, buried and burdened with putting away usually thin and one too many children's tales, adventures, animal stories, family and culture and all the rest of the categories I have long forgotten. I wish I could tutor again I thought in my head, hearing the session from across the way. 

So, last week was my first time coming back to that place- filled with memories of shelving books, not fully knowing what I was doing- but trying to look like I did, creating book display posters and doing the not so fun, meticulous task of finding the books in a squeaky, awkward cart. 

What's interesting is that I barely remember any of those memories now. They're not fresh and detailed in my brain like they used to or seem to matter as much as they did. They're locked up somewhere, with the key thrown away. Barely visible, barely important now, yet increasingly relevant and important to my story and what God has written. 

Last week I tutored there, and it felt so natural. I knew I was in the right place, doing what I've done for a while and what brings me life. Instead of shelving, organizing and displaying books with what sometimes felt like many eyes watching in the quiet sphere of the small library, I was reading words, reading books and stories with a girl whom I was tutoring. It all felt right. 

Rain and Picture Day

 It was a rainy day, but I liked it. It was a nice change from the heat, and it was really beginning to feel like Fall. The rain felt like God's grace pouring down as I needed it desperately. The day before was a mess and chaotic. I felt like I was hanging on by a thin thread, feeling discouraged, weighed down and stressed. I cried that night and didn't want to do anything but zone out and rest. I felt trapped in my own head of the intensity of a situation and demands.

That next morning, I felt totally different. I didn't even fully remember the day before. And it was school picture day. As I later saw my picture, I could tell maybe there was some sadness from the day before in my eyes. I also realized I looked a little older, comparing my other school photos. 

But with looking a little more mature comes only good things like growth, experience, wisdom that only God and life can bestow. I scrunched my hair as I took a shower that morning to start the day out fresh, and with long, wet hair, I'm not sure what to do with, especially on school picture day. Freshness, God's graces, a better attitude, and Fall rain were the components of that day. 

Sleeping on the Couch

 I slept so well on that couch. I would get ready for bed and read, learn Russian, pray, and then get settled into sleep with the backdrop of crickets and the peace and stillness of the night. I would think about what would be next for me. Where would my next job be? Where would I be teaching? How would it all work out, as there were only a few weeks left of the school year. That time in May was so busy and was in the thick of those few days helping out with my nephews and niece as my sister had her sweet baby boy. The rest of the month would have to go on until I would have something set in stone.

 It was August and school was almost starting. I woke up to the sounds of the house, niece babbling and walking around, nephews talking, playing, arguing, and my dear sister in the kitchen, baking, washing dishes, with baby in tow. I was visiting my sister and sleeping on my sister's couch again 3 months later and I remembered how I was feeling and going through at that time in May. There was still a lot to do and prepare for, but it was crazy to ponder upon all that had happened up until that point. From the questions and the unknown to the reality, busyness, a little uncertainty, yet also excitement of what was ahead. I truly felt like I was being prepared and equipped for it all.