Right Package, Wrong Address

For the longest time, I thought I knew exactly where I was supposed to be. Teaching felt like the most natural thing in the world for me. I’ve always had a heart for kids — their laughter, their little stories that never end, their need to be seen and loved. I loved being that person for them. I loved decorating bulletin boards, tying shoelaces, and watching the lightbulb come on when something finally “clicked.”

When I became a teacher, I truly believed that was my calling. I poured my heart into it. I prayed over my students, I stayed up late lesson planning, and I cried when they cried. I saw potential in kids that others overlooked, and I made it my mission to be the person who noticed. It wasn’t just a job — it was a ministry.

But as much as I loved my students, there was this quiet stirring inside of me that I couldn’t ignore. I started feeling like something was missing. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the peace I used to feel walking into my classroom every morning had slowly started to fade. I thought maybe it was burnout, or maybe I was just tired. But deep down, it was something else entirely — God was shifting me.

Leaving the classroom was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. I cried more tears than I care to admit. I felt guilt, fear, and even failure. How could I walk away from something I was so sure God had called me to do? I wrestled with that question over and over again. But now, looking back, I understand — it wasn’t that the package was wrong. It was just delivered to the wrong address.

Teaching was my training ground. It taught me patience, empathy, and endurance. It taught me how to truly see people, not just what they show on the surface. And I believe with all my heart that God used that season to prepare me for the one I’m in now.

When I stepped into my new role — helping families and children in a completely different way — it all started to make sense. The same compassion that once guided me through the classroom now helps me walk with families through some of the hardest moments of their lives. The same love that helped me nurture little hearts now helps me advocate for those who need someone in their corner.

I don’t think I ever stopped being a teacher — I just changed classrooms.

Now, I wake up with a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in a long time. I feel settled. I feel home. Not because every day is easy (trust me, it’s not), but because I know I’m exactly where God wants me to be.

Sometimes the right package lands at the wrong address for a while — not because God made a mistake, but because He’s teaching you something on the way to where you truly belong. Every “wrong address” has a purpose. Every detour has meaning. And one day, when you finally arrive where you’re meant to be, you’ll look back and realize He never missed a delivery.

So if you’re in a season that feels confusing or heavy — trust the route. God knows your address. 💛

“And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.”

— Romans 8:28 (NKJV)