Before I start writing, I'll just tell you I'm not complaining.
Really, I'm not.
I'm merely questioning my sanity.
Last week at our church's pastoral council meeting, we were informed that the church lacked a teacher for eleventh-grade CCD (religious education). I've considered teaching religious ed before. After working five months in the library of a local high school, I discovered how much I loved working with teenagers. Before the end of the school year, the students would not only ask me how to find a book using the out-dated card catalog (it was a long time ago), but they would ask my advice on relationships, what to wear to the prom and the best way to get out of reading "To Kill a Mockingbird" in Mr. Bivens' class. (The answer is you don't. It's a good book. Read it.
But whenever the opportunity arose to teach religious ed, I usually allowed someone else to step into the position before I volunteered. I figured if God wanted me in that position, He'd find a way to get me there.
Weeeell, He kinda interfered long enough last week to get me to say, "I suppose I could do it," at the meeting and then He snuck back out again. Before I knew what was happening Father and our religious education coordinator were expressing joyous gratitude over one less thing to do.
I stepped back and said, "Well, I probably better look at the curriculum first. What will I be teaching?"
Yesterday, Father asked me again if I was still interested in teaching the eleventh-graders. Of course, I said yes. I couldn't say no. Not after God interfered and all.
Sometimes I wonder what God has up His sleeve. This should be an interesting -- not to mention busy -- school year.