Rollercoaster

I feel as though I have been whizzed around, up and over one of Six Flag's most enormous terrifying rollercoasters this past two weeks. And I hate rollercoasters. It has been good, stretching, scary, disappointing, cheering, relieving, difficult and comforting in turns. I am pretty exhausted now.

Too complicated to give all the details... But, it started on Monday morning two weeks ago when the Headmaster of Abigail's school phoned me, all unexpecting as I was, and asked me if I could cover for one of their Latin teachers who had fallen ill. Instant panic. At first I said no, and then I said yes. I felt unprepared, and yet, what an opportunity. This could turn into the job I need and have been praying for. But can I do it? Haven't taught Latin for about 20 years. Haven't taught in an English school ditto. But I know I can do it. OK, I'll do it. In I go to meet the Deputy Head, and Head of Classics. It is all agreed. Then, a phone call. In order to do any work with children here now, a thing called a CRB check is required (Criminal Records Bureau check ie police clearance) - so it looks as though it is all off. But no! They say I can still teach but with another adult in the room to cover the legal requirements! Help! This is worse! ... What if I am a disaster and Abigail's friends tell her that her Mum is a rubbish teacher? What am I going to wear?! OK, maybe you do not want to read all the predictable thoughts that proceeded to flow very freely, from that time on until the first teaching day arrived...

Needless to say, I found out that I could teach, but, I was surprised how informally the children behaved towards me, how talkative they were from the get-go, how often I had to quieten them down. Not teaching respectful, grateful, adult Ugandan students any more. It was hard work. But, it went OK.
After three lessons, I felt good about it and back on top of things.

In the midst of psyching myself up for all of this, I received another unexpected phone call - that I was being invited for an interview for a very interesting job that I had applied for a couple of weeks earlier. Instant panic again! Can I even do this job? What was I thinking? Whatever can I wear for the interview? This job was in a really smart school, much posher than Abigail's school. And the job was for an assistant chaplain - mainly doing pastoral work with children aged 4 - 18. I loved the idea of it. But really surprised they called me for the interview.

The interview was on Monday morning. But... between teaching on the Friday morning, and interviewing on Monday morning, Dan and I were booked to go to a retreat for returning missionaries, at a beautiful remote retreat centre, a five hour drive away! My parents were due to arrive on Friday lunchtime to take over care of Abby and Alex, and Dan and I were to drive off towards the southeast, to  a village called Battle, just near Hastings, as in, the Battle of...

Do you think I was in the right frame of mind for a retreat?? It was honestly the last thing I felt like that particular Friday of my life. I LOVE retreats, but this was not a good weekend! We got held up in terrible traffic on the way, took a detour, got lost, arrived late for supper, and I walked into the retreat centre virtually fuming.

However... the place was peaceful and comfortable, the people were kind, the bed was soft... and in the morning, I felt better. It was great to meet the other people who were all recently returned from China, India, Ghana and Malawi. All in the same stage of returnee-ism as we are - still trying to get settled, still in survival mode, still wondering if we should have left, still missing "home", still wondering what we are going to do next, still sorting out how to pay the gas bills, still a bit fragile. So it was lovely to just talk about all those things and realise that we are not cracking up, nor silly to be feeling fragile. We had thoughtful prayer times and a walk in the fields, and individual meetings with the leader/counsellor. God managed to beat his way through my layers of stress and carve out a space for some peace. For which I thank Him!

I talked with the counsellor at some length about my getting so nervous, and that was very interesting and helpful. I won't say any more about it. As I have read elsewhere - "I am not that kind of blogger"!

So... we drove back to Gloucester on Sunday night, and on Monday morning I screwed up my courage, saw Mum and Dad off, dressed up in my new smart dress, and set off for my interview. It went well I felt but... I didn't get the job. No need to go into details, but they ended up not making an appointment. They didn't seem to know quite what they wanted of the role, and they clearly did not want an evangelical in there trying to influence the children even though they had said they wanted an "evangelistic" person in the advertisement. Anyway, it was obviously not meant to be. It would have been lovely to have the job and income sorted out... So, it was disappointing but I think it would have been tough.

I am just about now coming down off the flurry and blur of all these events. I did Tae Bo for the first time on Tuesday morning! It was very strange not having Florence peeking out at me from the kitchen (Kris!) And having her say to me when I finished, "Ah you have really exercised. You have sweated. That is good exercise." Florence! I want her back.

I have an interview for another job next Tuesday. Before that, we are driving all the way to Kent for the weekend, to our church in a town there, preceded by lunch with an old college friend Nick and family, followed by overnight stay with my old prayer partner friend Deborah from my 20s, followed by our debrief day at Crosslinks in London, followed by a visit to us here in Gloucester with friends we knew well in Uganda, Rosie and Andy Sexton. Please if you are praying for us, pray for stamina. And pray I will find the peace again, and the joy in the reunions and friendships. Because mainly it feels as though I am just surviving.