Event #1 - A Semester in an LHS Hallway
Locker 743.
Nope. Not my high school locker. I graduated from Liberty High School in May of 2004. I had a few lockers during that time. I remember nothing about them. Actually, I remember the locker combination to my locker during sophomore year.
17-29-12. I have no idea which locker it was though. Weird. Anyway.
That gnarly gum and I hung out daily. I never had the heart to remove it. Gave the locker character.
Locker 743. That is the locker I sat in front of each day in the fall of 2011. When I was 25 years old. Why, you might ask? Well, because I was the hall monitor. Not exactly the job that most people see themselves doing at age 25, but that is where I was. I was thankful for it, actually.
I ended up there because I stepped out of a previous ministry role somewhat suddenly. I had no plan for what came next. I did not handle leaving well. Honestly though, how many 24 year-olds handle career moves well? That is a story for another post. It is coming. Check back on event #8.
Back to the locker. Without a job and without a plan, Liberty Public Schools, specifically Liberty High School, was kind enough to give me an opportunity to work. I graduated from the school. I had been coaching cross country and track for the school for a few years. Now, here I was. The hall monitor.
What does that even mean? Good question. Exactly what it sounds like. The hallway that held locker 743 was my kingdom. Think Simba in the Lion King. Even the shadowy places. Especially the shadowy places (high school kids, remember), were my domain. The basic job was to be sure students were in class. When they were not, I was to make sure they had a reason, a pass, all that jazz.
I was also to be available to help out around the building in a more general sense. I had a walkie-talkie so I could be reached if the front office needed something done or if a classroom needed to be covered for a few minutes because a teacher was busy with something else. That walkie-talkie made me feel super important. Which was nice, because for the most part, the always gracious and perceptive breed of humans known as high school boys were pretty good at reminding me that I had no actual authority and very little true necessity — in the hallway and likely in life more generally. High school boys are wonderful.
So, I would show up in the morning, do my normal morning routine of making sure a fight did not break out in the commons area, hustle kids off to class, and check to make sure exterior doors were closed and locked once the day started. Then I would grab my bluish-green rolly chair and post up at locker 743 for the rest of the day. Patrollin’.
I’m pretty sure this chair had been inside Liberty High School since the late 1970s.
Like I said, I was thankful or the job. I made the most of the situation.
I tweeted my experiences with students out in those wild and untamed hallways. Called them the #HallMonitorMemoirs. It was awesome.
I built relationships with students, some of which I still hold to this day. I’m deeply thankful for those.
I made friends with teachers, administrators, and other employees in the building. Let me tell you, people in public education are some of the world’s best people.
More than that, I was available. Not just in the walkie-talkie, someone-call-Tim-because-there-is-a-bird-in-the-cafeteria kind of available (that actually happened; I emerged victorious). I was available when the Lord was ready to move me into the next phase of my life. Totally available.
You see, it was from that super available spot at locker 743 that the Lord called me to the Youth Pastor role at Liberty Christian Fellowship. A series of events unfolded and LCF was without a Youth Pastor overnight. There I was, more available than an unrestricted free-agent.
I stepped away from locker 743 and into that youth pastor role. At that point, I had no idea what the future held. I had no idea that three years of being the Youth Pastor would lead to eventually stepping into the Lead Pastor role when LCF’s Founding Pastor moved into retirement. I did not need to know any of that anyway. In fact, if I had, I might have stayed in the hallway. Who knows.
On my last day at locker 743, this little crew came into the hall and threw me a little party. I may have instigated it on Twitter with the #HallMonitorMemoires.
I wouldn’t be where I am right now without locker 743.
Seems like a weird place for the Lord to mold, train, and call a pastor. But He knows best.
He called King David from a field while tending flocks of sheep to lead His people.
He called the disciples from fishing boats and tax collecting booths to follow and learn from Him, eventually carrying forward His ministry after Him.
He called the Apostle Paul from opposing Him to proclaiming Him.
He brought forth the world’s Savior from the womb of a young virgin, had Him set in a manger in a tiny town no one cared about, took Him through a life of itinerant preaching and regular mocking, brought His life to a seeming end on a criminal’s cross. That story ended with a triumph out of the grave.
I do not know where you are right now. More importantly, I do not know where you will be 8 years from now. It is probably best we do not know those things.
But God does.
“Maybe we can be a little more confident that God has us where we are now because He knows exactly what position we need to be in for whatever He has next. ”
Locker 743. When I think about it now, I realize how sacred a place it truly was. A place that God used to make me who I am today.
Where are you? How do you view it? Most important, how do you view the One who has you there?
