Not too long ago, I noticed this thing called an open
letter. I’d never heard of one before,
and found them to be more critical than encouraging, akin to Frank Costanza’s Festivus
“Airing of Grievances.” They popped up
everywhere and became a new pet peeve of mine.
This morning, as I putzed around my classroom in the
quiet moments before the buses released my twenty-two energy balls, I felt down
in the dumps. I hate being a teacher
some days. Before I even begin, I’m
behind the curve, unprepared, and frazzled.
The minute the kids arrive, there’s a tattling, a tummy ache, a lost
backpack, and on rare occasions, a whispered true tragedy – like a parent who’s
left town unexpectedly or a police incident that kept the student awake last
night. I don’t know anyone who could
truly do this job on their own strength and I’m still wondering how I can
better access God’s power.
Two of my coworkers came in and shared similar
feelings. How do we keep up with the
standards and expectations? How do we
have a moment to really process and think, or even prepare the needed materials? These two are brilliant teachers. If they’re feeling inadequate too, there must
be others out there.
It’s time to embrace the open letter fad. Here I go.
Dear Teachers,
You are doing well.
I am dang proud of you and I wish I had money to give you that was more
closely aligned with the highly important, high quality work you do every
day. Also, you deserve lots more
trust. I trust you to teach well and use
those instincts about your kids to best serve their needs. Go get ‘em, and forget about anyone who says
you aren’t doing enough. Our world
would be severely hurting if you quit.
Love, Brooke
Dear Mothers and Fathers,
You are doing well.
Your kids know you love them and it’s okay that you’re not perfect. No one truly expects you to be. There are no awards for the cleanest house or
the kid who behaves best at the grocery store.
I would love to give you an award for reading to your child and leaving
the dirty dishes in the sink. Thanks for
showing up for the big job of parenting, 24/7.
Your care and perseverance have an eternal impact. This is kingdom work, worthwhile work. I hope your child makes you smile today, even
if it’s only because they’ve found a new way to get into the cupboard they’re
not supposed to get into. That kind of
creativity should be celebrated, eh?
Love, Brooke
Dear Missionaries,
You are doing well.
You made a good decision when you packed up and left. You made a good decision when you decided to
stay. Whatever level of language you’ve
acquired by now, good for you. Language and
culture are pretty tough sometimes. You
can say tomato and that’s awesome. I can’t
say tomato in that language. When your
work looks more like praying and less like a Billy Graham Crusade, and you’re
not sure how to put ‘results’ into your next newsletter, I’d like to celebrate
with you. Your prayers rock the
spiritual climate of your new home. Amazing
things are happening and God is the one who does all the heavy lifting, so I’m
excited about all we can’t yet see in those situations you’re praying
about. Thank you for being a fool for
Christ, for putting your pride on the line and giving from your heart – when you
want to, and when you’d rather be in the States eating pizza or holding your grandchildren. I’m so glad you chose to be a missionary.
Love, Brooke
Dear Person Whose Job or Life Situation Never Comes Up in
an Open Letter,
You are doing well.
Your life matters and your stage of life is an important part of God’s
plans for you. Whether you’re passionate
or whether you’re bored out of your mind on a daily basis, I hope you are
paying attention. A lot of life is
happening all around you and those folks need Jesus. You could be their ‘Jesus with skin on.’ All those little details that you notice and
take care of - - thank you for those.
All of those times you’ve questioned yourself and kept going toward what
you believe God would have you do - - way to go. That’s not easy. Thank you for tithing from whatever comes
in. Thank you for treating your family
with care. Thank you for making eye
contact with the grocery store clerk and asking about their day. These things are not insignificant; they’re
golden pieces of Christ in you. The
world needs you and I’m glad you are choosing to be where you are today.
Love, Brooke
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