This is how things went today… at least the important stuff.

Yesterday we had a day off due to icy roads. Today, before school I was met by Robbie’s dad. He stood with Robbie clinging to him like he didn’t want dad to go. Robbie’s dad proceeded to fill me in on the chaos that had become their home-life lately and how it turned extreme during yesterday’s ice day. Obviously, Robbie, not the source of the chaos, was deeply affected and his anxiety level was sky high, affecting him at school. He was particularly worried about unfinished homework and getting into trouble because of it.

Dad and I calmly reassured him that all would be well and not to fret over the homework. We then all went about our day. Robbie’s dad left. Robbie and I each did our school thing.

About mid-morning Robbie sidled up to me after having a couple of classes under his belt. Out of the blue, he said, “Things went well.”

“Oh?” I said. “What do you mean?” What he meant was that he didn’t get in trouble for not finishing his homework. What he meant and didn’t say out loud was he received a measure of understanding and grace at school today. “Things went well.”

I usually don’t know what goes on at home when my students leave school. I don’t know the stresses and conflicts, the anxieties and fears that my students might experience there. I don’t really have a lot of influence over that. However, at school, that’s another story.

Today’s lesson and challenge for me is to be that source of understanding and grace that a kid might need on a given day … so that things can go well.

“Things went well…” Today’s gift for Robbie… and for me

Look! It’s me. I’m sitting right here. What? You can’t see me? What am I, invisible? Hmmmm….Maybe…

Here’s what happened today. I was in front of my class, teaching, teaching, always teaching. At that particular moment I was teaching them about being polite. You know thinking about others, when, say someone, like me,  might be doing something important like teaching about, say, something important.

Anyway, I’m looking straight at this girl who is talking, talking while I’m teaching, teaching. I’m saying things like “You should be quiet and stop talking while I’m talking…” And she’s looking right at me while I’m saying all that and then proceeds to start to chat with her friend sitting in a direct line between me and her… Looking right at me while I’m telling her to stop talking and she’s looking at me, talking to her friend. It was like I was… invisible… spooky, eh? [Cue the creepy music and the scary fog effect.]

And then earlier in the day one of my students brought in a birthday treat – three big boxes of donuts – to share with the class and his teacher, I figured. Well the kids were in a different classroom than I was before break time, the preferred time to pass out treats of that sort. No worries. Even though I wasn’t there at the time of the initial passing of the donuts, no doubt he would search me out and offer his teacher a donut. So there I was standing out in the hall when the birthday boy walked down the hall toward me, grinning and ready to share. He got about 10 feet away, turned to his left and deposited the leftover donuts in his locker and walked right past me… like I wasn’t even there. For the record, I’m about 2 for 13 on the birthday treats this year.

So maybe that’s today’s gift… invisibility…. or maybe not. I do know I sure could have used a donut this morning.  Maybe I’ll stop on the way to school tomorrow…

Note:  A new school year is dawning for me, my students and colleagues.  This story explores the question of calling and purpose for the Christian educator.

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… Harold wondered, “When is enough, enough?”

Then he thought about Mickey. “Things seemed to be finally going his way. He’s been doing better, lately … answered prayer, for sure…” Harold realized that his own problems paled in comparison to what the Jensen family has been going through.

The room brightened as the light from the morning sun slid under the rising fog bank and sneaked through the windows of the faculty room. Harold sipped coffee from his “I ‘heart’ teaching” mug. His own mental fog began lifting about midway through the weekly faculty devotions. A glimmer of light penetrated his soul as Sandy wrapped up her devotions. She read from Matthew, Jesus’ final instructions to his disciples, “… Go and make disciples … teaching them to obey everything I have commanded … surely I will be with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Sandra ended the meeting with a prayer. As Harold walked down the hall, he added his own prayer for Mickey, for himself and this year’s candidates for discipleship. He didn’t know if he would be teaching until the “end of the age,” but he figured 3:10 that afternoon would be a good start.

Note:  A new school year is dawning for me, my students and colleagues.  This story explores the question of calling and purpose for the Christian educator.

*******

“Hi, Mr. DeWit,” Mickey chirped, his morning mood matched the artwork on the wall.

“Morning, Mickey. How’s it going?” The question was meant to be rhetorical, but the fifth grader answered anyway.

“Okay. My mom got this new job. Has to start early… She drops me off before she goes to work.” Harold recalled the struggles the single parent family had been through this year. “Starting that plant experiment today?” Mickey liked science.

“Right after noon hour, Mick.” Harold remembered he still had a few things to get ready. “Did you want to help set some things up after lunch?”

“Sure.”

“Thanks, Mick. Talk to you later, I have to get to a meeting.” Harold ambled down the hall to teacher’s lounge.

“I’ve been teaching kids for thirty-plus years,” thought Harold, as he plunked down into his place at the weekly faculty devotions. “Sure, there have been ups and downs before. Working for the Lord is what it’s all about, … right?” He rubbed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the meeting. Sandra Brown’s devotional flew right by him. His thoughts went back to his own load of troubles – hassles with parents, the discipline problems, the committee work, the mountain of papers to correct – Harold wondered, “When is enough, enough?”  …

… to be continued…

Note: A new school year is dawning for me, my students and colleagues.  This story explores the question of calling and purpose for the Christian educator.

*******

As Harold negotiated the path to school in the dim morning light, it seemed to him that the energy required to educate his students was being eroded by “extra curricular” pressures. Trying to motivate students who found him less entertaining than the latest video game was tough. It annoyed him. Answering criticisms from parents and students who found his methods of teaching differing from “what were used to” was frustrating. Dealing sensitively with the children in his class whose parents had separated or were divorced was emotionally draining.

He turned into the parking lot as he had every school day for the past umpteen years. His fingers tightened around the steering wheel and he thought ruefully, “I could have gone into the landscaping business with my brother-in-law.” His headlights flashed against the school’s doors as he backed into his parking space.

Mickey Jensen, one of Harold’s students and the subject of much prayer, stood at the door looking out. “He’s at school before most of the teachers lately,” Harold muttered to himself. Then he walked from the fog into the brightly lit hallway decorated with cheery displays from the elementary art classes.

“Hi, Mr. DeWit,” chirped Mickey, his morning mood matching the artwork on the wall. …

…to be continued…

Note:  A new school year is dawning for me, my students and colleagues.  This story, previously published in the Christian Educators Journal and Exploring God’s World-Teacher’s Helper, explores the question of calling and purpose for a Christian educator.

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The dreary morning matched Harold’s mood as he headed to school, his mind as foggy as the stuff he drove through. The fog was as thick as any he remembered in his thirty-some years of teaching. Halfway through his 15 minute trip, he realized that he already arrived at the corner of Main and Walnut. Preoccupied with his own problems, he didn’t remember going through the last two intersections. He hoped he didn’t leave a wake of death and destruction behind him. He continued picking his way through the dense mist as he contemplated his career.

He realized that it would take more than the short drive to school that morning for him to sort out his thoughts about the events of the past months and the feelings that accompanied them.

While he turned left onto Walnut and proceeded on to school, he realized that a right turn would have brought him dangerously close to the interstate. He could have driven off to points unknown in an attempt to escape the question that had nagged him for the past few weeks: “What am I doing here?”  …

to be continued…

It’s the last Friday before the first Monday of the new school year. The four of us were lingering over lunch, relaxed, laughing, reminiscing and having a good time, not really wanting it to end. One of the group said that this would probably be the last time we’d be sitting in the lounge doing what we were doing once Monday comes. Once the kids arrive next Monday, that’s who we will be lunching with… and that’s OK.

Our school’s theme this year is “Rooted in Prayer.” In our opening devotions the other day, I may have heard the speaker incorrectly, maybe, but it seemed like in addition to making prayer a priority we told that we need to DO things to make a difference. I might not be getting that quite right, but I think he was saying we need to pray and then do something…

I might have this all wrong… the point of the devotions and all. I should have been paying better attention I guess. And don’t get me wrong I’m not against prayer or working hard at doing my job. It’s not that at all. As a matter of fact, I just might take a few of my Saturday afternoon hours and see what I can do to get the school garden in shape for this year’s students. All of us do a lot!

I’m thinking that rather than doing more I need to find a better focus. After all, how can I squeeze more into an already packed schedule. Maybe, rather than doing, I should work on BEING … more patient, kinder, available to my students and colleagues, a better friend, more Christ-like and … in keeping with the school theme, a more rooted in prayer. If I can do this, I’m convinced this year will be successful in spite of what I try to do.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control…” Galatians 5:22, 23