We all survived...barely

There have been many times in my life when I've questioned what God's call was for my life. I wondered about my purpose and my gifts and how I was supposed to use them...I want to know what I'm supposed to do with my life. I've gotten frustrated when I didn't get (what I considered to be) a clear answer.

Today I learned that sometimes a crystal-clear "no" is even better than a "yes."

I am not meant to work with pre-schoolers. Ever. It's not that I couldn't do it. I know that I could. I could go in there everyday and read them stories and sing songs with them (ugg) and wait patiently (yeah, right) as each of them raised their hands and told random stories about their dogs and their moms and their owies when it had absolutely nothing to do with the topic at hand...and with those adorable, little, obedient, angelic ones, I could have a great time. They love hugs, they would do anything to receive the approval of their teachers, and their smiles light up a room.

Then there are the... naughty ones. And there is a decent sized group of them in Abby's class - at least 4 of them that I could have drop-kicked out the back door this morning. One of them, who will remain nameless, to whom I could have done physical harm. Honestly, he just needs a really good spanking (or two, or three...). And THIS is why I will never work with preschoolers.

I have a whole new respect for Abby's teachers and what they do every day. Yet another reason I love my part-time job at a scrapbooking store. The most stressful part of my day is dealing with a rude customer or two. When I left the school this morning, I literally had a headache. Don't get me wrong. I loved spending time with Abby and her classmates. I'm glad I had the opportunity to do it, and I'm particularly glad I could help Mrs. Lewis out while she's not feeling well. Am I anxious to do it again? Not unless I can take a certain couple of kids and lock them in a closet down the hall...