Chair of Wondrous Knowledge

This is a picture of the Chair of Wondrous Knowledge. It's heavy. It's got these arm rests at just the perfect height for your shoulders to rest. It has a place for your bum to slide into and a rest at the bottom for your feet. It's a comfortable chair. It's substantial. It's been in my classroom or in the community of learners I teach for quite a while now. Children who are the person of the week get to sit in it and share about themselves. Adults too. People feel special in it. You have to be invited to sit in it. It's part of the boundaries I've placed on the chair. It has become synonymous with me, for some reason.

Recently there have been a lot of changes in my work life. Most are unwelcomed. I went away to a really great conference for four days and upon my return I received many bits of information, one being that the "chair" was no longer in my room. My room didn't fit the activities that required the chair. Persons of the week would share in another room. I was heartbroken.

Silly as it may be, I woke up at 2 a.m. the morning after I was delivered this news in a tizzy about this chair! I realized that it was just ONE more change I was unwillingly having to adjust to. For three hours I argued in my head with my leadership, with my team, with myself about this chair. Most people probably think it's ridiculous. I realized it had become a golden calf in my life.

I didn't mean for it to. I really do love it, and I really do love that the children think it is a very special chair, which in turn makes them feel very special when they sit in it. I didn't mean for it to become that way, I don't let them use it regularly because I didn't want a battle over who gets to sit in the chair for independent reading or whatever. It was just easier that way.

But as things got harder this year, at 2 a.m. the chair became about me. Was I so easily shifted around without concern for my feelings or desires? Were the years I've invested in the community reduced to having no value? Am I able to release everything that has value to me and trust that flawed humans will have my back? Can I trust the people who oversee me? Am I able to trust God with my life?

I have been walking a life with God for almost 38 years! And yet, I am brought to my knees about trusting God with all things. A lesson I revisit too many times than I care to count and, quite frankly, at 2 a.m. I found highly annoying! "Really God!" I wanted to yell. Trusting God should be easy. He's "God" after all. The creator of all things, the creator of me. And yet, here I am having to let go of so many things that matter to me, and God was telling me trust him. Not an easy thing to do, but after three hours of arguing, crying and praying I walked away feeling a little bit like when Jacob wrestled with God--tired, a little sore and yet also renewed.

When I walked into school, one of my co teachers stated that they were just trying something new and that she would move the chair back into my room. Shortly after that, my former teaching colleague who is now one of my directors also came to my room stating I should move the chair back. I told them both the same thing,

"No, the chair goes in the room where the students share their person of the week. It should stay where it is." I said so with no prejudice, anger, or fear. I hope some day the chair is back. I love that chair, but not at the expense of community or my faith.