No Chastening Seemeth to Be Joyous

I've realized that working on my personal progress is more than checking off tasks in the inspired booklets provided by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Even though I haven't had time to work on it, I have realized that I am still progressing every day. Those are sometimes the moments when the most progress happens--when we're not expecting it. And it's even more potent when it's something we've failed in.

Today was one of the more difficult days in my student teaching. I was feeling overwhelmed and disillusioned. I guess you could say I gave up today. I didn't put in my best effort. Afterward I was reprimanded by my mentor teacher and all my frustrations came bubbling out--in tears.

He stayed after school and talked to me, or rather let me talk, and he shared a few things with me about what made teaching worth it for him. It was a large stack of notes from students. I questioned him about whether or not he thought the difference he was making in his students lives was really significant. He told me: Nobody can answer that question. But I have to believe that I can make a difference, otherwise it's not worth it to keep moving forward.

Then I created the metaphor of the puzzle. I said: each person is like a million-piece puzzle, and as a teacher you are one minor little piece!

Then my teacher, in his usual, optimistic manner, said: But if you are the bud of a rose or a ray of light, that little piece is significant.

I immediately thought of my Little Mermaid puzzle from my childhood and remembered the time I lost the puzzle piece with her eye on it. I told my teacher about it and said: If you're the eye puzzle piece and you're missing, they'll get rid of the whole puzzle. "But," I said, "I don't feel like I would be the eye puzzle piece. I feel like parents would be the eye piece."

"No way," he responded, "I've got a feeling that parents add more than one piece to the puzzle. They're the edge pieces."

"That's true. Because the edge pieces are the first things you do in a puzzle. Well, if you're smart."

With that I began laughing and he felt like he could leave me. Then I went home to my husband where I cried some more. I really want to be the eye puzzle piece in the puzzle--but how many eye pieces can there be in a puzzle? After discussing my failures I pulled out my scriptures and opened to Hebrews in the Bible, which reads:

Now no chastening for the present seemeth to be joyous, but grievous. Nevertheless, afterwards it yieldeth the peaceable fruits of righteousness unto those which are exercised thereby.

(Hebrews 12:11)

I felt strangely calm. My normal reaction would to lose all hope and fall into a fit of depression, but I didn't. Not to say that I will react with the same calmness next time, but this time was a success. This time shows progress--toward a life-long pursuit.

Now, I'm not sharing this because I want praise, and I'm not sharing it to vent. I share it because of the principle I learned. Failures are just part of the progress toward eternal life. We are all trying to progress toward becoming like Jesus Christ, which we do with His help. Failures not only will happen, but failures MUST happen. We can see chastening as an opportunity; opportunity for growth and perspective.

I feel bad for what happened, and I have a lot of work to do! But I have not lost the hope to keep trying. I perceive there will come a day when the second part of Hebrews 12:11 is true in my life. I will have a day where I realize that the peaceable fruits of righteousness have been yielded unto me. I'm not talking about after this life either. I mean one normal day, maybe some time a year from now, in the spring. I'll have a student tell me how I've made a difference and I'll think back on this day, and how it made that day possible.