on my worst days

Last Tuesday was pretty terrible. I’m sure I’ve had worse days, like the day I had to put my dog to sleep, but last Tuesday was pretty rough. To begin with, I went to bed late the night before (at midnight) trying to finish some work that needed to be done before the morning, and was awoken by my housemate, David, who knocked on my bedroom door half an hour before we had to leave. Now, some of you might have been able to handle this well, but I don’t like being rushed in the morning. My mother can tell you that in order to be properly civil in the morning, I need to either have a shower, a cup of coffee, or have at least one solid hour elapse since I left the bed.

Therefore, low on sleep and in the confused haze of not feeling prepared for much of anything (let alone teaching classes to 4th graders that don't speak English), I arrived at school overwhelmed with being behind on a ton of work and upset that I didn’t have time to write a meaningful email to my dad on his birthday. I hastily began preparing for my classes, trying to figure out what to do with my 10th graders, most of whom had just failed the test I gave them the week before.

After my first set of classes, I returned to the office, where I hastily began to down a granola bar and some yogurt while simultaneously trying to put together a decent lecture for my history class. Then one of the teachers told me that I couldn’t eat in the office. Now, there was a simple reason for this request: some important people were in the office, talking to the Directors, and apparently my eating granola and yogurt in the office didn’t look professional. However, my reaction was far from this calm consideration: WHAT?! I can TOO eat in the office—I’ve been eating in this office for the first day I got here! What are you talking about?! It’s my right, this isn’t fair, I’mgonnaRRGH,BRYK,ACMSHNACKUM… and there I went off in my mind, just like Yosemite Sam when Bugs Bunny makes him blow his top. I managed to stay calm on the outside, grabbing my granola bar and yogurt and walking out of the office with a thunderstorm furiously raging inside my head.

Now, things began to get a little better after I cooled off and got out of the office. I began to think about what made me react so violently to a simple request. I realized that I desired my right to eat in the office (which is only a selfishly perceived “right”, at that) to be upheld more than I desired the cares of my fellow teachers to have a school that presented itself well.

Then a more profound thought entered my head (by the grace of God, from whence I’m convinced all profound thoughts originate): I follow Jesus the Christ, who gave up every right he had (all of which were TRUE rights, being the Creator of all existence) to come to dirty, rebellious human beings and bleed, suffer, and die on a Roman Cross so that nasty, self-consumed people like me could be saved from the wrath to come and be brought into the Kingdom of Light (see Philippians 2).

So, Jesus hung on a Cross so that selfish little fools like me who prize their “rights” so dearly could be shown that there’s something far greater to live for than my desire to eat my breakfast wherever I want. Ouch.