Too Much?

School started this past week. I made the move to 3rd grade with only a little angst and a lot of excitement. I had spent 13 years in 5th grade, and it was definitely time to mix it up a little. Because of this change, my first day was certainly different than it has been in the past.

Fifth graders tend to swagger into class as seniors of the elementary school world. The girls usually hug each other and often squeal at each other's first day outfits. The boys smell like puppy dogs after we have PE or recess. A few of the kids have even started the journey into puberty and are a good head taller than their less mature classmates.

A good 5th grade teacher blends in with the pencil sharpener, serving as a facilitator in academic and social support; she certainly doesn't take center stage. Apparently, that's not the case in third grade.Turns out I could easily be a rock star to the 8 year old set.

Honestly, the one reason I requested my grade level change was that I had tired of the 5th grade curriculum. I mean I seriously know that the colonists beat out the redcoats in the Revolutionary War. I'm aware of the little known fact that The Boston Tea Party was in truth not your run of the mill tea party. I also know that "Checks and Balances" in government isn't about your mom balancing her checkbook. And truthfully, I think I might have run out of interesting ways to make any of those subjects relevant to my cell-phone carrying, ipod listening, converse wearing 5th-graders. So. . . I asked for a move.

 I think it's interesting how things that have worked for us in the past sometimes lose their hold over us and cause us to want something that we don't even recognize that we want. I'm not sure I really wanted 3rd grade; I was just finished with 5th grade. . . . like when I divorced Jeff or when I left ED.

 I wasn't completely sure what I did want but I knew instinctively that the time for  them to serve a purpose in my life was over. I was no longer in danger of losing my children if I divorced Jeff, and without the stressors of my life with Jeff, I really didn't need ED to cope any more.

I'm certainly not comparing my 5th grade years to a bad marriage or a mental illness. I would not trade my time with them (the 5th graders, of course) for anything. The lessons they taught me, the forgiveness and understanding they poured on me were gifts. Their need for my guidance and support were a true lifeline. I could even see myself going back to 5th grade in the future, if they could just get rid of all of the U.S. History stuff.  On the other hand, I would never even consider going back to Jeff or ED, no matter what either of them discarded.

The comparison between the two comes in me walking away from the known to a great big bunch of unknown and receiving gifts that I wasn't even aware that I wanted or needed.

Back to the first day of school.

I was taking the kids to music class when I felt a little hand very unassumingly, very innocently slip into my own. It simply took my breath away. When we played math games with partners, several of the kids asked me to be their partner. On the return morning, each child walked past my extended hand and into my arms for a goodmorning hug rather than a handshake.

I've written before that sometimes my contentedness and stable mental health frightens me. I look at my life and the goodness it is filled with and I'm afraid that I have too much. That's how I felt with this obvious affection from my new students.

"Too much" has always been a concern of mine. Somehow I've associated too much with greed, fearing that if I get more than my share someone else must do without. I'm learning, slowly. . but I'm learning that "too much" only goes with things like money or power or control or hurt.

I have an on-going discussion with Erika, where I tell her that I'm concerned that someday I will get so healthy I will forget about ED and that's when he'll have me again. She counters that I stay healthy because I never forget about ED. I sometimes fear the same thing about Jeff even though I know in my head that could never happen.

Anyway, with all of the physical touch from my 3rd graders, I realized how much I needed to be held. I had thought I had already put a check by everything on my list of needs but it turned out I actually needed to add things to the list.  Luckily, honest, authentic needs can never be too much. There is enough love for everybody to have more. There is enough contentment and wonder in the world for a second helping. There are plenty of 3rd grade hugs for me to want and receive every one of them.

God is good. Good enough to give gifts that I neither asked for or was brave enough to want. So while I fall in love with these 3rd graders or any of the other gifts in my life I'm not going to be afraid. Love and joy and peace and grace, the gifts I want in my life, are immeasurable. There is always enough and too much just doesn't exist.