Resignation rejection

It seems like other homeschoolers have it all together all the time.  Not so around here.  Sometimes it's wonderful, but most of the time, it's just plain hard.  Last Friday, I submitted my letter of resignation.  It was short and to the point, something like, "I can't do this anymore." Things had been particularly difficult, and I was depressed and discouraged.  Personality conflicts, butting heads, stubbornness, lack of listening and effort with one of my students in particular had driven me over the edge.  I was done. 

I was disappointed that the principal rejected my letter of resignation.  Admittedly, this was not the first time I've attempted to quit.  He calmly rides out the storm and refuses to give up on this little school.  I disagreed with his decision but was glad it was the start of the weekend so I didn't have to deal with it. 

On Sunday before church started, someone told me how delightful my difficult student is.  This person had no idea of the struggle I was having, but she told me that I was doing a great job with this child (which is not true, but she had thrown me a rope, and I clung desperately to it anyway).  Then during the worship service, the Lord gave someone a word to share, and it was about persevering through the hard times.  I took a tighter hold on the rope and climbed up a little.  I knew He was talking to me. The whole sermon was about me, and afterwards when I talked to Sarah's teacher about what he taught that morning, that was for me too.  Is it self-centered to think that God arranged a whole church service just for me?  Maybe so, but I know He cares that much, so I received it with peace and tears. 

Further confirmation and encouragement came the rest of the day, and even more this morning.  Our Bible study this morning was about God's refining fire, and I feel like He's trying to use this difficult situation to make me stronger and more beautiful and useful. The ore doesn't like being broken and burned repeatedly, but it's worth it when it comes out shining, with the yuck skimmed off.  The struggle is real, and it is ongoing, but I choose to trust Him (and my principal) and persevere.