“This is our daughter, Diane,” explained Betty, a church member where my husband had just become pastor. “Diane actually attends another church in town, but sometimes she visits with us.” Betty smiled up at her daughter and wrapped an arm around her waist. “She’s a teacher, too.”
That was all Betty needed to say to launch Diane and me into a conversation about all things school. We quickly discovered both of us had taught third grade the previous year.
“Listen,” Diane interjected. “It’s summer; I don’t have anything important going on. Let me help you unpack or wipe down cupboards—whatever you need done.”
And so the following week, Diane and I spent a pleasurable morning emptying boxes, organizing the contents, and getting better acquainted.
“Tell me about where you teach,” I prompted, while we released china from its bubble wrap at the dining room table.
Diane began to describe her private school—just two classes at each grade level with only twenty-two or so children per room, highly involved parents, strong discipline, and just five minutes from our house. The more she talked, the more delightful her situation sounded.
“Now,” she invited, “tell me about your experience.”
I explained that the week before Moving Day, I’d completed my first year back in the classroom after a long hiatus as stay-at-home mom with our three children. It was no exaggeration to say my learning curve had been steeper than the students’.
Diane commiserated with my circumstances. She was well-acquainted with the process ahead of me, having moved from another state herself just a few years before: the prospect of substitute teaching in order to become known in the district, applying for positions, and interviewing.
If a position was offered, the next challenges would include absorbing the way another school system worked and mastering its different curricula—likely at a different grade level. No doubt, another steep learning curve loomed ahead.
But my frustration ran deeper than what I confided in Diane that day. The transition to this new community made no sense. We’d been perfectly happy where we were, and the previous church hadn’t wanted my husband to move either.
Such a change seemed counter-productive to us, but the state-level leadership of our denomination considered it necessary. We grieved and prayed; the kids and I cried. We also wondered: what was God up to?
Before Diane left that day, she offered to submit my name for the substitute list at her school and gave me the address. Sometime later I checked out the location, heeding her warning that the campus was hidden among trees, the entrance on a one-block street. Who knows how long we would have lived there before discovering this school on our own?
The first call to substitute came one morning just as I began my work out. “Can you be here within the hour?” asked the secretary. In record time I was showered, dressed, out the door and down the road, playing “Farmer in the Dell” with preschoolers.
For lunch I expected to purchase something in the cafeteria. Silly me—still in public school mode. Here the kids and staff brought their lunches from home. When one of the other teachers learned I had no lunch, she scrounged up an instant cup-of-soup, crackers, a box of raisins, and a tea bag.
“I’m sorry that’s all I can offer you,” she apologized. But I was greatly impressed by her effort to take care of a woman she didn’t know. And first impressions count.
The school called often, offering me experience at various grade levels, familiarizing me with their curriculum, and allowing me to become acquainted with the friendly faculty and staff. I began to pray God would open up a position for me at this school. But as the months passed, full-time employment seemed unlikely. No one was close to retirement; no one was leaving.
In April, however, the headmaster offered me a position. One of the fourth grade teachers had just been elected mayor of her community. Trying to fulfill those responsibilities and teach was more than she wanted to tackle. I would start that August, which gave me the summer to prepare. An added bonus: my classroom would be right next door to Diane’s.
When that job opportunity opened up, it was as if God turned a spotlight on His plan. After the fact I could see how he’d miraculously arranged the whole sequence of events—from the moment Betty introduced me to Diane, to the headmaster’s offer of employment.
The disappointment over leaving my previous position had turned into a God-ordained appointment at my new school, a much better situation, and one that lasted twenty-two years.
Have you experienced a spotlight moment? Tell us about it in the comment section below!
Photo credits: http://www.asan.af.mil; http://www.flickr.com (2); http://www.pxhere; http://www.flickr; http://www.dailyverses.net; http://www.canva.com.
From the Inside Out 
With 25 moves behind me since my husband is retired from the military, I credit God preparing the way for me each time we moved. I generally had to take the test for teaching again each time we moved and get certified in the new state. I ended up being certified in eleven different states before my husband hung up his USAF Captain’ hat. Anyway, my least favorite move was to the cold and windy state of Maine. I must add here that we were stationed in Limestone, way up north in northern Maine. When we arrived in the fall of 1992, I was dismayed to find out that the entire county had only one Spanish teacher. Not to worry! I had all winter and spring to pray about it. So, I did. And God opened that door wide for me when the ONLY Spanish teacher in the entire county retired at the end of that year. I applied and got the position and was able to teach there for the next three years. God is so good! He knows the desires of our hearts for sure!
Oh my goodness, Vicklea! I cannot imagine 25 moves that required retaking a teaching exam and jumping through all the hoops of getting recertified nearly every time! At least all of our moves (once my husband entered the pastorate) were in Florida. Thank you so much for sharing your story! A single job opening in a single school is one thing, but a single opening in an entire county is incredible. But of course that wasn’t too difficult for our awesome God to orchestrate. Hallelujah!
Praise God! He is an awesome God!
Thanks for sharing your teaching story.
You’re welcome, Laura!
I loved this story. Our God is so good!
So glad you enjoyed the story, Linda Lee. AMEN–our God is superbly good!
As someone who has moved often, oh how I can relate to this post! I too have found 1 Co. 2:9 tp be a companion in all our journeys. “What no eye has seen, what no ear has heard, and what no human mind has conceived” the things God has prepared for those who love him.” He always goes ahead and prepares the way!
Amen, Sheila! But even now when expectations go awry I can forget that important promise. Don Moen’s old chorus is coming to mind: God Will Make a Way. I need to sing that through each morning as a preventative measure for whatever might transpire as the day progresses!
When God moves us it is always full of blessings! What a glorious story. full of hope. Thanks Nancy!!
I’m sure there were voices telling me that at the time (God’s moves are always full of blessing), but my mind too often turned to the negative. I know better now!
Except for my four years at Taylor University I’ve lived in Mansfield my whole life. It wasn’t ‘my plan’ but I’m right where the Lord has wanted me to be. Close to my family (nephews, six greats, and three great-greats!). And I live next to my 90-year-old Mom whom I adore! I am honored to spend every day with her. And something else. I worked for 40 years at United Telephone/Sprint/Sprint-Nextel/Embarq/CenturyLink. Through all of the acquisitions and name changes, as well as many departments being absorbed into other states, the Lord saw to it that I stayed in my own town near my loved ones. I am so blessed and grateful.
Your family is blessed to have YOU, Cheri! What a lot of changes transpired for your company over the years, and yet you stayed put. Amazing!
Nancy,
I’ve had so many moments like what you described. Many of my life experiences didnt look like blessings at the moment, but in the rearview mirror, they had God’s goodness written all over them.
Blessings,
Bev xx
You are so right, Bev. It’s a wonderful affirmation when that moment of revelation occurs–affirmation of God’s sovereignty, faithfulness, loving care, and attentiveness. Hallelujah!
Hi Nancy,
Yes, that’s right you had the teacher life! What an awesome story to see knit together by the Lord. Waiting when events change is like the other shoe dropping in a good way. Let’s wait and see how God works something great.
In Christ,
Gary
THAT’s the attitude to live by: “Let’s wait and see how God works something great!” Thank you, Gary!
What a blessing, Nancy. If they treated the teachers this nice, I can only imagine what a blessing the teachers must have been to the kids. How encouraging. … Thanks for sharing this beautiful memory with us! Sending love your way, friend!
Thank you, Heidi! The school was not Christian in its founding, but when I arrived many of the teachers were. One of my greatest privileges was to work with some outstanding colleagues–caring, passionate, hard-working, and creative people!
[…] I grew in spiritual strength, compelled to rely on him through the grief of leaving beloved friends and the uncertainty of what lay ahead. He miraculously provided a teaching position for me not far from our new home. And in the end everything did work for good as that struggling church became a thriving community. (You can read a fuller account at After the Fact.) […]