Dear Lyla,
I was really struggling with the topic for this week’s blog post. Not because it’s been a bad week or a particularly difficult week…actually…it has been a great week! I have accomplished a good deal on my sabbatical projects and have done a plethora of creative work. It is the type of work that energizes me and so I am quite pleased. It has been a long time since I have solely focused on what I needed to do to keep pushing myself forward on my own academic and creative journey. I know in the end it will make me a better teacher, a better colleague, and hopefully a better mom. However, I must admit that I have felt a bit guilty about focusing so much on my own professional development this last week. As you know, I usually have an open-door policy here at Wartburg College. My office has been a revolving door of students coming in, coming out, sitting on the couch, napping on the couch, sometimes drinking coffee, endless chatter, homework, deep discussions about personal issues, hugs for those who need it and reality checks for others.
While I am still having interactions with students, which I love, my available time has been intentionally limited so that I can benefit from what a sabbatical is supposed to encompass. A time of renewal, a time of rest, a time of newfound intellectual and creative opportunities; and I think I’m starting to get there. I have really enjoyed the writing that I have done this last week. I have been inspired and motivated by the preparation I am doing for the podcast series that I will begin to record shortly with Kate but, the office has been quiet. I know my students are trying to honor my space, I know they respect me and my time, and I’m grateful for that; but I cannot help but feel just a little bit guilty that I cannot be there for them as much as I was last year and that’s a struggle for me.
I also know that I need to prioritize you and give you the attention you deserve, and I’m so grateful that we have our car rides in the morning (and sometimes at night). I love the time that we spend together, and it serves as an emotional balm for me. I love talking to you, whether it’s you telling me a funny story, or we talk about your music, or your teachers and their funny quirks, or honestly, sometimes even when you just want to vent. Those are special times for me because it means that you trust me, that I am a safe person for you, and that is a priority for me.
I have tried to give that same attention, love, and care to my students too and I think they appreciate it. I know I treasure the relationships that I have with them, but again, this feeling of guilt that arises from focusing on myself inwardly this year rather than giving of myself to others has rooted itself in my psyche. One of the toughest life lessons for me to learn is, if I deplete my own cup I have nothing left with which to fill others’ cups. I know all this intellectually but, as you know I was raised Lutheran, so I feel guilty. However, because I was brought up in the Lutheran tradition, I understand the concept of grace, or at least I think I did.
In my office I have this beautiful word art piece that Sam Pfab made for me a few years ago when she was involved in Dance Marathon here on campus, she gave it to me as a thank you gift. Sam and I had quite a few discussions about grace. I think I am fairly practiced at offering grace to others, but I might not always be so skilled at receiving it from others or extending it to myself. As you know, in the Lutheran tradition, we believe that there is nothing that we can do solely on our own to receive heavenly blessings, it is by grace that we are saved, it is the ultimate gift. Oftentimes I do not think I really believed that the gift was meant for me, even though I preach all the time everyone is deserving of grace. I have repeatedly told my students that there is always room for grace. It is ok if you struggle, it is normal to stumble, and sometimes fall, but all will be well because there is always room for grace. It struck me as I was finishing up some of my preparation work for the podcast with Kate that I have been blessed with people in my life that have extended that gift to me and exemplified what it means to live and walk a grace filled life. I was reminded of that poignantly yesterday afternoon when I had my phone conversation with Kate to coordinate her visit to campus to talk about her life experiences. She was so kind and so supportive, and, in a word, she was gracious in our conversation. She reassured me that I could do this work, that I could do it well, and that I should be proud of my work rather than shy away from it or doubt the talents that I have. I was grateful that in a moment when I needed grace, I received it. So, I guess the point of this letter is to remind you, and myself, that there is always room for grace no matter what. You don’t have to earn it; it is freely given.
Letters To Lyla 