It was with some odd amount of stretched-for joy that I walked a bouncy walk out of the doors of the school, the last of my personal belongings in my hand, and finished loading my car. I had spent the last week in a cycle of sobbing, sleeping, and not wanting to talk about it. It seems impossible for someone to leave a job like this with ease. Nineteen eight and nine year-olds had spent eight hours a day for over one hundred fifty-seven days getting to learn and laugh and mess up and grow together with me as their guide, their encourager, their teacher.
The good-byes were too quick. I would have liked to sit in the tears and hugs for much longer than I got to do, but third-graders - no matter how much they have loved their teacher - are excited for summer break. I told them all I will see them again, not to worry about me, and that I knew that they would make awesome fourth-graders.
When I got home and was finally laying on the couch, and after Trevor pulled me from my deep mood of not wanting to talk about it, I sobbed. I missed them already.
Still, not even twenty-four hours later I found myself with an unexplainable skip in my step as I packed up my vehicle and prepared to say goodbye to my first big girl job.
Don’t read me wrong - plenty of anxiety and self-doubt accompanied my decision: Does it make me a quitter if I leave after one year? Will this look bad on a resume later? What if this is the wrong choice? What are my coworkers saying about me? But giddy joy spilled over every other emotion as I completed the final steps to leaving a job I knew I didn’t want.
As I walked back into the building, (because being done with the work doesn’t mean that in-service is over) I saw a butterfly.
I thought, “That feels right.”
Butterflies, to me, are symbols of change, of starting as one thing and ending as another, of the beauty of growth.
A quick google search confirmed my feelings. Native American culture recognizes butterflies as symbols of hope, transformation, and rebirth. Chinese culture sees in butterflies the qualities of freedom, earthly beauty, love, and the human soul. They are said to be awe striking for both their beautiful delicate nature and their incredible power. Some new-agey beliefs say that seeing a butterfly signals that spirits are watching over you and ensuring a gracious transition and change.
While I don’t believe in that, I do believe that God uses His creation to speak to His creation. That butterfly was a message from my Maker saying, “Hey, see what I can do with this creature? See how I can transform it into beauty through an act of waiting? I will do that with you, too.”
I don’t know if caterpillars know that they will become butterflies someday or if they crawl into the cocoons they’ve made for themselves wondering, “Why am I doing this again?”. I think I sometimes do both. I know that God is transforming me into a new creation, a woman more like Him. I know that He is working all things together for my good1. And also, sometimes I find myself hesitatingly wrapping myself up in the work before me wondering why.
So, I guess we wait. We remember that God is good and that He still makes beautiful things. We walk with a bounce in our step and we keep an eye out for butterflies. That’s what hope is, I think.
As defined by Him, not me.