Never Thought I'd Be Here.

Here it is.

The eve of the first day of school.

Well, technically, the eve of the first workday of the school year.

I've had an incredible summer. I've traveled to five different states and even gotten a new stamp on my passport. I've slept in borrowed beds more than I have my own. I've fellowshipped with friends and family and made a score of new friends. I've read books, watched movies, and napped.

As glorious as this summer has been, I'm ready for a routine. I'm ready for a decorated classroom, laminated wall hangings, and a handful of meetings (but don't get crazy). I'm not so ready for 5:00 a.m. alarm bells or misplaced worksheets, but I'm ready to meet my 111 new faces that I will get to love this year.

As I keep looking forward to tomorrow and all the new adventures for this school year, that little voice in the back of my head won't shut up.

It keeps reminding me of my first year of teaching. As I move into my fourth school, my mind keeps drifting to the ones that came before it. I never stop thinking about where I've come from and all that I've been through. The kids who hold pieces of my heart. All of the lessons that I've learned -- good and bad.

The mantra that keeps resonating in my head while I'm doing all of this thinking: "God is so good. He is so, so good."

I have to remind myself that He knows exactly where I've been. He knows exactly what I've been through. He's coached me through a few hours of therapy and He found me my dream job at my dream school when every single person that I knew said, "It's not gonna happen this year." He knows the highs and the lows. The mountaintops and the valleys. He knows them, and He walked through every single one of them with me -- some of them He had to drag me by the collar just so I would keep moving. It's so easy to forget how much I've learned and focused only on how much I've hurt, but that is not the way to go about this. I rarely can believe that I'm teaching again, it always feel so surreal, but then I remember that nothing shocks my Jesus.

When I say, "I can't believe I'm teaching again," He responds with, "I always knew you would be."
When I say, "I'm scared of the what ifs and the unknowns," He responds with, "I have not given you a heart of fear -- trust Me. I've got you."
When I say, "I'm afraid to feel safe here and to open myself up again," He responds with, "We both know it's worth it; regardless of what the outcome looks like right now, it's still in My plan."
When I question, "What if no one likes me?" He retorts, "I put the lonely into families."
When I wrestle with, "What if I can't do this?" He replies...

"Little girl. No, you did not just say that. Have I given you a heart of fear? No. The power of Christ Who rose from the dead is alive and well in you. You are equipped; what you do not have now, I will provide for you. Just like I have been, just like I always will."

When I still don't listen and I say, "I'm scared. I'm scared it's going to hurt and I'm scared of the past repeating itself and I'm afraid of everything,"

He says,

"My child. I wrote in My Word 365 times to 'fear not.' Fear not, I am with you. Fear not, I will never forsake you. Fear not, you are mine. Fear not, I have called you by name. That's one fear not for every day of the year -- including the 200 you need to get through this school calendar year. Fear not. Fear not. Fear not."

Tomorrow morning as I'm shampooing my hair, I will be repeating "fear not."
Tomorrow morning as I'm driving my six minute commute to Wolf Village, I will be repeating "fear not."
As I am meeting my colleagues for the school year, I will "fear not."
When I meet my mentor and the rest of my team, I will "fear not."
When I meet my assistant principal, I will "fear not."
While I'm laminating my posters, I will "fear not."

What did it take me to get me back in the classroom? Jesus.
What will it take me to get through this school year? Jesus.

I might be shaking in my red wedges tomorrow, but my heart will be saying "fear not."

I can promise you there will be tears at some point this year.
At some point this year, I'm going to throw back an adult beverage, look my best friend in the face and say, "I am not going back tomorrow and you can't make me."
He never promised me this was going to be easy. He promised me He would see me through.

Just like He has.

I'd never thought I'd be back here -- back in the classroom, back prepping for new students, back to meeting new colleagues and getting excited and nervous of the prospect of being an educator -- but He always knew I would be.

Watch out, 2013-2014 school year. Momma Sandy is coming for YOU! :)