Skip to main content

The Gift of the Red Light

It was a cold, dark morning in December--just one week before the church Christmas play. I'd finally finished writing the play, but now there was an adult choir to rehearse and kids ages two-teenage to direct. 

First drafts of senior papers were awaiting my assessment, and I'd just finished preparing for a two-hour professional development session to deliver in a neighboring school district. 


For days (weeks?) I'd been feeling the pressures of my inability to say no to new professional and personal opportunities. My mantra had become "just do the next thing you have to do." 


"Oh for a moment's rest." I don't think I ever said it out loud, but it was the thought that lived with me for weeks. I just needed to breathe.


And so, on that cold, dark Sunday morning, I made my customary stop at the neighborhood Dutch Bros. at 6:45 a.m. As my short commute continued, I approached the intersection at Linder and Franklin . . . just in time to see the light turn red. 


"Are you kidding me?" I said it aloud in my car quiet car. There wasn't another car in sight, and here I was stuck at a red light. 


And that's when I heard the voice of God. 


No, it wasn't an audible voice, but in my head it was loud and clear. "This is your gift. This red light is for you. Take a breath and enjoy the moment."


And I did. I took a breath. I relaxed my shoulders. I noticed and embraced the reprieve.


As I drove to church, my to-do list no shorter than before, I felt just a little lighter. I felt God's care for me--His way of bringing me a little rest in the midst of my overloaded schedule. 


Better yet, He had sent me a gift that keeps on giving. In the weeks since this, I have learned to embrace the gift of the red light. Each and every red feels like a reminder that God cares about me, and that my days are filled with chances to breathe and rest in His love. 

Comments

  1. I really love this post! It's a great reminder for me to enjoy those "red lights" in my life.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

On This Day

It was a very busy, long morning. I had back-to-back-to-back conferences with kids and parents and my principal that filled every break. Still, classes went mostly well, and I felt like I sort of knew how to teach. Then I went to cnn.com just as lunch was starting--just 5 minutes to spare before I had to meet parents. Wow. Just wow. I struggled to keep myself together. I didn't want to be crying when I met with the parents. But children--little children--shot and killed . . . . The parents were lovely, by the way, asking great questions about their son and telling me how much he likes my class, which really surprised them, because he's a math/science guy. Turns out he thinks I'm funny. I went straight to the church after work to continue working on our Christmas program. It's a huge undertaking, and I don't know how anyone could do it alone. I left feeling grateful for many hands and heads that make light work. And then I went to the Hungry Onion...

Believe in Your Seed

Twenty-five years ago, she was a student in my 10th-grade English class in Kellogg, a small mining town in Idaho’s panhandle. Now, she is an educator herself  — an elementary teacher in the same large district where I teach high school English. And today, she stood in front 3000 employees of the Boise School District and delivered a keynote address. Her speech was, to say the least, inspiring. It was expertly crafted — full of story, wit, insight, and charm. Her delivery was seamless, vivid, funny, and, quite frankly, better than any such talk I have heard in 31 years of opening meetings. (I say this as someone who is particularly passionate about public speaking. In fact, public speaking has become one of my greatest passions — both as a teacher who helps students craft presentations, and as someone who dreams of doing exactly what Sonia Galaviz did today.) As she spoke, I experienced her speech on several levels. I was the veteran teacher inspired by a somewhat young...

Dare to Trust

In the last several years of my teaching career, I have made a conscious decision to trust my students. As a part of my opening day speech, I tell my students that even though they have done nothing yet to earn my trust, I choose to trust them. I tell them that I am on their side and that I will believe what they say to me. If a student tells me his computer crashed just when he was about to send me his essay (the 21st century version of "the dog ate my homework"), I believe him. If a student says she is not ready for her quiz because she was at the hospital all night with her sick grandmother, I believe her. Or at least I act like I believe her, and frankly, most of the time I do. And if I find out one of my students has lied to me, I don't feel stupid. As one of my teacher mentors, Jeff Wilhelm, would say, "it's not my bad." It's not my job to suspect every student of lying and cheating. It is my job to teach, and I know that to teach well, I n...