“Just trust me as I show you, one step at a time.”

14 little heads nodded in understanding as their worried expressions relaxed.

The confusing lines they were drawing on their papers, according to their instructions, would become foxes eventually. Their teacher had said so.

Instead of returning to my cluttered desk with the usual relief that comes after everybody is back on track, I paused. What did I just say?

***

We were having an ordinary art class, if ordinary is an appropriate adjective to describe my grade 4 art classes. Don’t assume orderly or bland, though the connotation may imply that. Ordinary as in, the usual, which consists of a mob of waving hands, cries of “How do I do this?!” “I need help!” and the dreaded, much quieter, “oops… I think I messed it up…”

Today, our project was a step-by-step fox drawing. I looked at the sample, glanced over the steps, and concluded it would be a simple assignment which my students could manage fairly independently. (Big mistake, right there – never assume anything will be easy. Prepare to assist with each step of every assignment, then anything they do independently is worthy of celebration.)

After showing the class the sample picture so they would know what they’re making, I placed it out of view so they wouldn’t try to go ahead of my directions and get off track. Instead, I would draw each step along with them on the chalkboard. We got started, and I quickly discovered that measurements to the quarter inch are difficult. So I began the process of checking each child’s paper with my ruler, after every step, to ensure that their drawings were accurately to scale.

As I added lines to my large, chalkboard version, I soon saw the fox taking shape. The class didn’t, however, and began asking to have the finished picture stuck to the board. “I don’t see a fox in this. Are you sure it’s going to become a fox? How can it? It looks like a mess!”

I replied in a calm voice, hoping they would understand:

“Class, if I would allow you to see the finished picture, you wouldn’t get to see it take shape, and it would appear complicated. Then you might panic wondering how you’re going to get from here to there! Your pictures will get there – one line at a time. But I don’t want you to stress about everything that has to happen in between, so instead of showing you the finished picture, I’m asking you to focus on me. Trust me as I show you one step at a time.”

They smiled, satisfied, and continued their art. I moved toward the stacks of work waiting on my desk… and stopped in my tracks.

“What did I just say?” I replayed my words and was shocked as I absorbed the meaning of what I had just spoken.

I had put zero thought into that speech. I just opened my mouth and started talking in answer to the question I had gotten. Was that me, grade 4 teacher, casually calming down some confused children in an art class?

“Or was that God, teaching me something profound about life?”

“If I would allow you to see the finished picture, you wouldn’t get to see it take shape…

You’d panic, wondering how you’re going to get from here to there.

I don’t want you to stress about everything in between…

I’m asking you to focus on me… as I show you, one step at a time.”

Who just said what?