Thoughts on Grace

I want to tell you a story.

I've been bad. I've been very, very bad. I've ignored the teachings of my elders, denied the education of my youth, and my teeth are suffering the consequence.

That's right, readers. This is a tooth story. And it's a true story. But it doesn't start at the dentist; it starts, rather, with a stuffy nose.

Twice a year (if I'm lucky), I get a really bad sinus infection. We're talking one clogged up, marathon running nose, the achingly on fire throat, and a cough that puts a smoker's to shame. And the cough strips the throat so raw that the cough just keeps coming. All of that chaos makes it difficult to sleep. No. Make that IMPOSSIBLE. Unless you have help, that is.

Now, I've learned that Delsym is wonderful (and doesn't taste so bad, either) and that Robitussen Nighttime Cough and Cold will do the trick (if you can gag it down), but it took me a few years to learn that. And by a few, we're talking more than a quarter of a century. And when you think about it, it's a long time!

Before I bought into the over-the-counter cough syrup idea, however, I enlisted the aide of an old standby: the cough drop. I'll admit that in my sleep-deprived state, I wasn't thinking too terribly clearly. The thought of choking in the night had occurred to me so I rammed that sucker up between my teeth and my cheek and closed my teeth together. I was safe. And desperation will make you do some pretty stupid things.

Fast forward to late June. Mr. V and I went to the dentist and I got the news I had feared: something would have to be done about these teeth! I've never had the best of luck with my chompers and this visit showed that some things never change.

So as I'm sitting in the dentist's chair today, I'm thinking about what a mess I've made. I confess my cough drop story to Dr. K and her assistant. "Yep, that'll do it!" they say. "Have a friend who used to pack peppermints up there like that. Sugar free from now on!" And they go about fixing me up.

After my confession and their confirmation of my huge mistake, I had some time to reflect. To think. To get some sort of bigger lesson out of this mess. Here's what I came up with:

Grace. It's an incredible gift. It's so very costly, so enormously expensive. And so reassuring. It's that big hug that you get when you messed up and feel like all is lost. It's a whisper that says "It's okay. You did you best. I know you tried as hard as you could, and that's what matters." You see, I try so hard to keep my teeth clean and in order and out of trouble. I try so very, very hard. But I've always had trouble with them and probably always will. No matter how hard I try, it won't ever be enough to fix all of the problems I have, to prevent me from messing up here and there somehow.

God knows this. God knows that, no matter how hard we try, we'll never get it right. That's why He sent Jesus. He knew we'd need Him, we'd need what we find in His perfect sacrifice. I was reminded today, sitting in such pain, in the mess I'd made of my mouth, that I do the same thing in my life. During my procedure, my husband tried to come in to squeeze my hand. He just wanted to reassure me that he loves me and that everything is going to be fine.

God sends his grace for just that. God wants to squeeze us, hug us, tell us that everything is going to be okay. We tried our best, and that's what He wants. He knows we'll never be perfect and He wants us to know that's okay. But we still need to try our best to do the right thing.

For me and my mouth, that looks like brushing for longer, using better mouth wash, and making sure to floss every single day. And this is a bit of a challenge for me because my mouth is smaller than most (or so say every dentist and orthodonist I've ever had) and it's difficult to get back there. But I need to do it. I need to try.

I need to further examine the rest of my life to see the areas where I need to try harder. His grace is enough, and I can't earn it but I can't take it for granted, either.

Professional Development

As a teacher, I am required to fulfill professional development every year. I attend workshops and lectures and glean from these ideas on how to be a better teacher. Sometimes they're great, and when they're great they're GREAT but when they're bad, they are HORRID.

Well, I was sitting in the dentist's chair the other day and I started thinking about professional development in the world of dentistry. My old dentist was, in fact, old. She had been my dentist since I was old enough to remember the pain of a dental pick's prick. She was set in her ways and while I listened to friends tell me about the things they were experiencing at their dentists' offices, I felt like I was getting the short end of the stick.

As I sat in my new dentist's chair, I looked around at the fancy equipment that took x-rays of my teeth - individually! Prior to my appointment, I perused their website to see that they don't use silver fillings but instead have fillings that are tooth colored. The numbing agent used was soooo much better than my previous dentist's.

I, no longer in a haze of gasses, realize that the advances in tooth filling and such probably aren't quite as dramatic as the constant changes in education. However, I see some parallels in the prof dev department.

What if my older, more established dentist, didn't take advantage of the dental workshops or seminars that were available? What if she never updated her equipment (one online reviewer stated she hasn't)? What if she turned up her nose at advancements in dentistry and said "I've done it this way for years and I'm sticking with what works!"???

Her patients would be missing out on the benefits that the newfangled ways of doing things have to offer!

This comparison of my old dentist with my new dentist got me thinking: What if educators did the same thing?

As I stated earlier, my profession requires that I go to professional development every year. And I have to log 150 hours every five years to keep my certification. It would certainly free up my schedule a good bit to skip those mandated hours, wouldn't it?

There are so many educators in this state who have decided that there is one way of doing things - the way they've been doing them for 10, 20, 30 years. Teeth may be the same, but kids certainly aren't. I graduated just 10 years ago and I can tell you that they've changed - dramatically.

They don't learn the same ways that you and I did. The worksheets and repetition aren't enough. They need you to edutain them because they've grown up watching TV, playing video games, and social networking. But more than that, they need to see the relevance of what they're trying to learn.

And beyond that, they've found BETTER ways of teaching the same old stuff. I am always trying to re-invent myself in the classroom, trying to improve what I did the day, week, month, year before. Sometimes I fall flat on my face. Sometimes I jump up in the air, click my heels together, and get so excited because they get it. Shouldn't all educators be as passionate?

They get it. That's what it's all about. It's why I do what I do. It's why I go to conference after workshop after seminar. I don't ever want to be an teacher with "old" ways. I don't want to be like my old dentist with equipment from the 1960s. I always want to be vibrant and excited about the world in which I live.

Are you stuck in a rut? What do you do to make sure you stay on top of your game? Let me know!

Mrs. V