Nine years ago, I was a struggling junior in college fueled solely by Nature Valley granola bars and Starbucks DoubleShot espresso. I worked part-time as a lifeguard instructor at my college’s wellness center while majoring in elementary education and working harder than life to pass every class course code with “mathematics” as a descriptor.

Though school had always been a struggle, I truly enjoyed learning and genuinely liked the majority of my classes throughout my academic career. I had always earned satisfactory grades in language arts, history, humanities, and science. But, mathematics felt like a foreign language with rules that kept changing, symbols that kept evolving, and procedures that my brain never seemed to grasp. Math always served as the academic barrier that would never cease to make me feel inadequate…“less than”...insufficient. And, it was the one subject that made me question whether or not I was truly called to be a teacher. 

Despite my struggles with math, I had wanted to be a teacher for as long as I could remember. I dreamed of bringing every subject to life with fun and curiosity just like my childhood cartoon hero Ms. Frizzle and her eccentric wardrobe, pet chameleon, and magic bus. (I certainly had the hair for it at one time!) 

Since I knew what it meant to struggle with content, I felt uniquely equipped to empathize with struggling students and help them feel seen, heard, and understood. I thought that once I graduated, I would make a difference in students’ lives by making school exciting rather than something that filled their stomachs with knots and dread. 

However, before I could graduate, I had to overcome two major barriers: 

First, I needed to pass all my math classes. I had worked extremely hard and was on track to pass my last one that semester.  

Second, I had to pass my state’s Praxis Core exams—a set of tests that evaluate basic content areas. I had taken the Praxis Core a year prior and passed all content areas except, of course, the math section. 

The math section included problems oriented around middle and high school math content. Sounds easy…but no matter how hard I tried, how hard I worked, or how many hours I spent in tutoring sessions, nothing seemed to take root in my brain to help me pass what I felt should have been a simple exam of common sense equations. When testing, my nerves became frazzled and my mind raced as soon as the computer’s timer commenced its countdown, crippling my performance each time I attempted to pass. I had retaken the math portion three additional times, but I couldn’t get my brain to remember all the formulas, rules, and procedures needed to solve the math problems I had faced over and over again. I needed a passing score of 150, and time was running out. 

When I sat down to take this dreaded test once again in the fall of my junior year, the overwhelming thought patterns I had struggled with in the past assaulted my mind once again. As I worked on each problem, my brain calculated the time I had left for the remaining questions. My eyes kept checking the countdown box in the computer screen’s right-hand corner. Tick, tick, ticking away… 

My mind wandered…145—I had been so close each time I attempted this math exam—144—but close wasn’t good enough—148—I wasn’t good enough—142—I wasn’t enough…

Time ran out, and, once again, I didn’t earn a passing score—missing it by just a few points with a 146. 

I had to wait another six weeks before I could try again. My last attempt to pass the math section would be in December. If I couldn’t get a score of 150, I would not qualify to register for the spring classes I needed to complete my teacher education program. I’d simply have to choose another major even though I wanted to fulfill God’s calling to become a teacher—a dream that felt thin and distant in those moments. I couldn’t think of anything I would rather do. Nothing else felt right. 

However, my struggle with math and my inability to pass this test caused me to wonder: Was I meant to be a teacher? Was I really “called” to minister in a classroom? Was this just an immature pipe dream created by a younger me who had lined up her dolls and played school all those years ago? 

Despite these questions at the forefront of my mind, I registered for the Praxis Core math component one last time. I had decided that if I didn’t pass this time, I would face the reality that God had not called me to become a teacher.  

A few days before the test, I contacted my best friend, brother in Christ, and trusted confidant, James. I explained my situation and shared my heartache while he intently and patiently listened. In love, he suggested that maybe I had focused too much on myself—my efforts, my skills, my weaknesses—in every attempt that I had made to pass this exam rather than depending on God. And, he reminded me that if God had placed a call on my life to minister as a teacher, no earthly barrier would or could keep God’s will from completion. Then, he pointed me to Scripture.

First, he read Philippians 1:6, “I am sure of this, that He who started a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (HCSB). At that moment, I realized I had used the word “I” quite a bit over the past several months, striving as hard as I could on my own and by my own merit rather than relying on God—the One who sets my path according to His will. 

James then shared a story from Judges in the Old Testament. I had heard the story of Gideon many times but had never given it much thought before that day. In this account, Gideon, a prophet to Israel tasked with leading the Israelite army against the armies of their oppressors (the Midianites, Amalekites, and Qedemites), felt unsure of himself and his calling. So, he asked God for a sign to confirm that he would win the battle. That night, Gideon placed a fleece on the ground and asked God to soak the fleece with water while keeping the ground on which the fleece sat dry as a sign that God planned to give the Israelites a victory. God honored this request, and Gideon wrang the wet dew from the fleece onto the dry ground the next morning. But Gideon still doubted that he should engage their enemies, so he requested an additional sign. This time, He asked God to keep the fleece dry while making the ground wet. The next morning, the Lord patiently reassured Gideon with a dry fleece sitting on wet ground. 

He didn’t suggest that I “test” God. Instead, James reminded me that God had a plan and a purpose for me. And, if He had called me to become an educator, He would see me through to that end. James then prayed over me, asking God to bring me peace about the test and His will for my life. 

Shortly after this conversation, I decided to make my own request to God. 

If God had plans for me to be an educator, I wanted a testimony that gave Him the glory for achieving my calling. I wanted my story to encourage other educators, especially those who, like me, questioned whether they were called to become educators. So, I prayed, asking God not only to help me pass this upcoming math exam but also to confirm His call on my life to be an educator by helping me earn the specific score of 152.   

I entered the testing center on a chilly December morning. Once again, I sat in the seat of the small cubicle to begin the exam with which I had become so familiar. As I worked, my thoughts were ordered…my breathing was calm. For the first time, I felt peace. God had a plan for my life, and, no matter the outcome of this test, my future was safe in His hands. I released control, trusting Him with my calling. 

When the test ended and my exam scores were released, I cried tears of pure joy. With God’s help, I had earned a passing score of 152. God had answered my prayer, confirming my calling! 

From that “Gideon moment” on, my perspective changed. I knew God had established my classroom as my mission field. And, I learned to rely on Him in every aspect of my life, even as I minister to and teach my students. 

I eventually graduated with a degree in elementary education. Two and a half years later, I married my best friend, James. I currently serve in a high school special education resource classroom, teaching science and—with total reliance on God—math.

Elaine Coleman, a Christian Educators member, is currently earning a master’s degree in special education while working as a high school science and math special education resource teacher in Kentucky. She also serves alongside her husband, James, in youth ministry and educator outreach at their church.