Showing Up For The Opportunities Entrusted To Us

Yesterday, I spent the morning with twelve future teachers.

Teach For America, the program they belong to, has asked them to begin their careers in the Appalachian region of Kentucky, serving schools where many students carry burdens I wish no child had to carry.

Poverty. Instability. Trauma. Overwhelming adversities.

In my world, these future teachers were all "young kids." Young enough that I found myself thinking about all the years between where they are and where I was standing in front of them. But also young enough to remind me of something I deeply admire: they have chosen to begin their working lives by going where the need is greatest.

That matters.

When I left my position with the state earlier this year, people naturally asked why. After all, I had a job I loved and work I believed in.

My answer was always the same. I wanted greater reach. Greater impact. Yesterday reminded me I am exactly where I hoped this path would lead.

Yes, I spent time talking about trauma. We explored how childhood adversity shapes behavior, why connection matters so deeply, and how educators can respond to students through a lens of understanding instead of judgment.

But somewhere along the way, the presentation became about something much bigger.

Showing up.

I found myself sharing stories from years ago when I worked directly with young people whose lives had been marked by trauma and hardship. Young people who, years later, have reached back out to me with words I never expected to hear.

"You saved my life."

Those words still make me uncomfortable. Mainly because I don't think I saved anyone.

What I did was keep showing up when things became difficult, when trust had to be earned, when it would have been easier to move on— that's when I showed up again.

Over time I've came to believe that consistency is one of the purest forms of love.

As I looked around the room yesterday, I wondered what stories these twelve future teachers will someday tell.

The students they are about to meet will know they volunteered for one of the tougher assignments. They'll watch them stumble through lesson plans that don't quite work. They'll see the uncertainty that comes with every first-year teacher. They'll notice the exhaustion. They'll notice the mistakes. But more than any of that...

They'll notice whether these teachers keep showing up.

For a child whose life has taught them people can be very unpredictable, consistency is never just consistency. It is hope.

As I drove home, another thought settled over me. I wasn't standing in that room by accident. The managing director who invited me to her teachers had first heard me speak at a training I co-led last year. One conversation led to another. One relationship opened another door.

It reminded me how often the most meaningful opportunities in our lives aren't manufactured. They're entrusted to us. Sometimes I think we spend too much time asking God to show us the whole path. Yesterday felt more like God whispering, Just keep showing up.

Because that's often how purpose unfolds. One conversation. One invitation. One classroom. One child. One life at a time.

Yesterday I showed up for twelve future teachers. Soon they'll show up for hundreds of students. And years from now, perhaps one of those students will look back and realize that what changed their life wasn't that someone had all the answers.

It was that someone kept showing up.

We live in a world where we too often hesitate to show up because we con't believe our showing up will make a difference. That's a scary thought, to me, because the only way to ever make a difference is indeed in the showing up.

What an honor to have met 12 young people leading the way to showing up.

What a blessing—the hope each of them represent.