By Craig Goodwin-Ortiz de León
I bless the Lord with my whole heart as I prepare to step into a new beginning. This Fall, I will serve as Adjunct Faculty at Felician University, where I have been entrusted with the responsibility of teaching Adolescent Psychology. It is my first solo teaching appointment, and it comes with a deep sense of awe. I have prayed to be useful, to be faithful, and to be formed for service. Now I find myself standing at the threshold of a classroom, with open hands and a grateful spirit. This moment is not the result of my striving alone. It is the fruit of God’s goodness.
As I reflect on this call, I return to the words of Psalm 90:17: “Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and prosper the work of our hands—O prosper the work of our hands.” These words speak directly to the vulnerability of beginnings. There is labor ahead, but the labor is not mine alone. I do not walk into that classroom by my own merit or strength. I walk with the confidence that God’s favor is not earned but given, and His blessing rests upon those who seek to serve with reverence. The work of my hands becomes holy when it is offered back to the One who gave it.
Teaching is, for me, a form of ministry. Paul’s words to the Corinthians resonate deeply: “Not that we are competent of ourselves… our competence is from God, who has made us competent to be ministers of a new covenant.” (2 Cor 3:5–6) The classroom is not just a space for information; it is a sacred place where formation unfolds. Each lecture, each question, each moment of connection holds the potential to witness to truth, dignity, and growth. In this role, I am called not merely to instruct but to accompany, to serve, and to nurture the image of God in each student.
This call is made even more meaningful by the Franciscan identity of Felician University. St. Francis of Assisi embodied a life of humble service, simplicity, and deep love for creation and community. He taught that ministry happens wherever love is made visible. In the Franciscan tradition, to teach is to serve with presence, to walk with students as companions, and to honor the dignity of every person. The classroom becomes a space of encounter, where truth is nurtured with gentleness and learning is offered as an act of love.
I do not know what this semester will hold, but I trust in the One who began the good work. Paul wrote to the Philippians, “I am confident of this, that the One who began a good work among you will bring it to completion.” (Phil 1:6) That promise sustains me. God called, God opened the door, and God will be faithful to walk with me through each week, each challenge, each small success. I do not need to fear the unknown because the One who formed me for this work will also carry me through it.
This is a song of praise. It is not about achievement but about grace. It is not about proving anything but about trusting the One who calls. I give thanks for this beginning, and I offer it all—every lecture, every hour of preparation, every quiet prayer before class—to the glory of God. May His favor rest upon me, and may He prosper the work of my hands.
Under the Fig Tree 