Renewal – The Balance

This week has been hectic.

I’m starting to grade things for report cards, prepping to leave for the weekend, and trying to invest in my youth group by actually showing up for things.

My classroom swallowed me the first week of school, and I’m starting to poke my head out into the real world again.

For my own sanity, I think that’s a good thing.

This week I realized I’ve been draining myself by teaching and giving so much – and it’s time to be renewed so I can actually be an effective teacher.

So this morning, with high ideals, I ambitiously packed my church clothes and food for my supper before heading off to school.

I hadn’t been to Wednesday evening prayer meeting since school started, but tonight would be the night.

My day started. However, when you add 23 gixth graders to your mental plan of what the day will be like, well… it can go off the rails.

Everything has a way of taking more time than you think it should, and by end of the day, I was rather exhausted.

I tackled lesson plans and checking with zeal.

A couple hours later, much closer to done but not finished, I looked at the clock. 15 minutes until I had to leave for church.

And suddenly, I was exhausted.

Going to bed early would have felt so good…

But this time, I decided to stick to my plan.

Sleep would renew me physically, but sometimes the inspiration from Bible study with your church people is what you need to renew you spiritually.

The conversations with friends after the service reminded me I’m not alone in the world of teaching and serving others – we’re all filling different roles that God has called us to, and all of us feel weary sometimes.

Connecting with other people renews me emotionally and refreshes me mentally.

I’m still tired.

But I’m glad I went to prayer meeting tonight.

The spiritual, emotional, and mental renewal of doing something outside of work is sometimes as important as the physical renewal of sleep…

Maintaining myself in all these areas is a careful balance.

But balancing renewal is vital to effective service.

And now, I’m finished creating coherent thoughts for the day… I shall go to bed in search of some physical renewal before another day of teaching dawns.

Omnipresent: To Be or Not To Be?

I am a teacher.

And while that title means I am an educator, a story teller, a listener, a mentor, a nurse, and sometimes almost get mistaken for a mom, I am not everything.

I’m not in fact, superhuman. I am not magically feeling patient 100% of the time, and I don’t know the answer to every thing you can think of asking me.

And very clearly lately I’ve noticed another thing about myself: I am not omnipresent.

When one student nearly passes out during Bible memory recitation, I cannot remain at the front of the room and rush to her side simultaneously.

I need to choose where I am most needed to be at every moment of the day.

Obviously, the sick child was priority in this situation.

And while I was calling her mom, I couldn’t be teaching math.

When I did return to class, I could only answer one student at a time, and while doing that, I couldn’t message the moms of my other sick students to say what their homework assignments were.

We got through the morning, and even with four students absent, there were still oodles of questions.

Questions represented by hands waving in my face.

Hands accompanied by pleading eyes and desparate expressions.

Hands which I can only answer, one at a time.

During recess, I can’t play soccer while sitting in the classroom helping a student catch up on homework, and I can’t be in four different homes teaching the absentees, either.

In the whirling chaos, I did briefly notice that I must be lacking something if this is all supposed to be possible.

But gradually, things settled down. No one else got sick. Math class mercifully ended. We had recess. My assistant marked books and I almost sang for joy to the rhythm of her red pen as she returned lessons to students.

It was in Bible class that I finally had time to breathe.

And that’s when I was confronted with the vocabulary word, omnipresent. An attribute of God’s character, meaning “everywhere-present.”

He is capable of being everywhere…

And I am not.

Well, my sixth graders were beginning to look perplexed at this concept; the word omnipresent is long and complicated… What does it really mean?

So of course, I used my favourite teaching strategy – apply the concept to real life with a little imagination.

In this situation, I got to teach them a concept while doing some beautiful daydreaming out loud.

“Imagine if I were omnipresent,” I began. “I could stand by each of your desks and help you all with your math at once. Even if you were on different problems. And none of you would ever have to wait for me to help you. I could even be relaxing in my house right now, while enjoying myself here teaching all of you. I could join you at recess while helping someone with corrections inside, and of course I’d be at the homes of the absent students helping them with their homework, too.”

My class started to laugh as comprehension dawned. I opened it up for comments, as follows…

“So would there be 23 of you then, since there are 23 of us?”

“But – we’d be bumping into you all the time if there’s that many of you!”

“No, because each of her would still just be in one place then! Instead there’s just one of her, but, like, she’s everywhere.”

“So basically, you’d just be really, really, big?”

“We’re still bumping into her all the time then.”

And finally, my favourite… “I think I’m glad you’re not omnipresent. That’d be scary!”

Yeah… I think I’m glad, too. Even though there are days I’d love to be able to reach around better, I don’t have the mental capacity or stamina to handle the attribute of omnipresence.

I am glad that God is omnipresent, and that He can fill in the places where I lack because of my humanness.

He can work things out in areas of my life that I will never see.

He can solve multiple problems at once, and He’s never too busy helping someone else to answer me.

He’s present not only everywhere in my life today, but also in every moment of my tomorrows.

And I’m glad. Glad that God is omnipresent and I’m not.

Yeah, there are times I wish I could be in more places at once… times I wish I could see through the mist that hides my future…

But God knows what I can handle, and He chooses to show me only what I in the moment can manage.

He knows what’s beyond the mist, and sometimes He is the mist, intentionally hiding things from me that I don’t need to worry about today.

I’m not omnipresent.

But I’m so glad I have a Father looking out for me Who is.

On Renovations and Faith

I’ve been wanting to turn this into a blog post for several days, but I’ve been too busy to get my swirling thoughts typed here.

However, as I spun my cake decorators’ turntable this afternoon, and angled my tools to create the desired look, I had time to think and reflect… now the cakes are done so I can exhale, relax, and write what’s been on my heart.

Last weekend was 6 months since I first walked into the church that now feels like home… barely knowing anyone, and completely terrified, but somehow convinced this was the right thing to do.

You know, I had no idea then just how much good would come from asking God for the courage to step out in faith.

I reflected on that last week, and praised God for His faithfulness in guiding me, but didn’t really have a blog post in mind.

Until Friday evening, when my youth group and a few of our church people were … well, quite literally, tearing apart the church basement.

There are some renovations needed, and as plans were made, the list grew.

So, on the last day of school, teachers and students emptied the classrooms completely, in preparation for the work bee that evening. By midnight, all the shelves were gone, trim had disappeared, insulation was removed, some sections of wall were only bare frames, lights were being rewired, and old drywall was removed. Not to mention the endless sweeping, and all the plastic we girls taped up to protect surfaces from the spray painting that will be done.

It really wasn’t recognizable as the school that it had been that morning, and I asked one student who had come with his dad for the evening, “Can you believe the last day of school was in here today?”

His answer was profound, as children so often are without realizing it.

“Well, it feels strange. I thought it would be exciting to tear our classrooms apart, and it is, but…”

“But it’s sad to tear up the place where go many good memories were just made?” I asked.

“Well, kind of, yeah… and it’s so empty. It doesn’t even feel like our school, and it’s just so odd!”

I assured him that by September, they’ll be ready to have lots of good times in a classroom that will feel “new” after all the renovations are complete.

His eyes sparkled with anticipation at that thought and he said, “that’s right! I can’t wait! I hope it’ll look really nice.”

Then, more pensive, he added, “At least, I think it will… it’s hard to imagine right now though while it’s such a mess.”

I reminded him of the things that will be improved and redone, and his enthusiasm returned. “Yeah! I think it’ll look real nice when it’s all done,” and he hurried off to see what else he could do. Destroying classrooms is an adventure, after all!

And I, sweeping up the constant piles of dust and debris, thought about our conversation.

6 months ago, I knew my life didn’t totally fit me… but it was all I knew. It was familiar and comfortable.

Yet I couldn’t stay there. I needed to move on, and I knew it was time. But I couldn’t reach for the new without stepping out of the old.

You know, I was incredibly afraid of walking into a new church and hoping to find it home.

It felt like I was laying down so much – risking relationships with all the people I’d known and love, for relationships I didn’t know if I’d ever build.

But God proved faithful to work it all out for me, and I’ve been able to make many beautiful new friendships as well as keep the familiar old ones.

And, the layout of my life is different.

It doesn’t look like the life I was so familiar with and afraid to leave behind a few months ago. But some things from before are still in their places, and everything is brighter and nicer than ever.

Sometimes, adding to your life means giving every part to God first, so He can remove what’s not needed and return what is still valuable to its place in your life.

By letting God empty you out, you allow Him to work and reconstruct you according to His perfect blueprint.

So, to the one reading this: this is my encouragement for you. If your life feels torn apart, upside down, or totally empty right now, and you wish for the familiar sights of before… keep trusting the Master Architect.

The renovating process takes faith in the end result, patience, and a lot of trust that things are going to end up better, even while they’re visibly being torn apart.

But remind yourself of this truth: God will not ask you to lay something down without putting something more beautiful in its place.

So trust Him, doubting heart.

By what He has done in my life, and for countless others out of unknown circumstances, I truly can say that His renovations are never without a purpose.

And I think your life will look real nice when He’s all done.

The Importance of Following Bunny Trails

If you have ever sat in my class, you may have noticed I am a “bunny trails teacher.”

I’ve tried to curb the habit, because obviously we have routines to keep, deadlines to meet, assignments to complete.

But in the years I’ve taught, I’ve quietly told myself that some bunny trails are important. Sometimes, answering that off-topic question will mean more to them in life than if we finish the math lesson today or tomorrow.

It’s not something I’ve actually spent much time intentionally thinking about, until yesterday. I was chatting with some upper grade girls at lunch, who were discussing various teaching styles. (They notice more than I used to realize!)

“You follow bunny trails a little more than some, I remember,” was the calm declaration from one of them. “But personally, I liked that.”

I laughed and replied that I try to only follow the important bunny trails, but yes, I do tend to travel them quite easily.

“Important bunny trails? How can they be important when they’re distracting from the schedule?” This from a well self-disciplined girl.

We talked about important questions, life lessons, etc that may not be in the curriculum, but are totally worth taking time for.

How in life, we sometimes take bunny trails as well, walking paths that feel like detours but take us to places we’d have missed out on otherwise.

They weren’t totally convinced. “Have you ever taken a risk or a detour that got you something you would’ve missed out on otherwise?”

If they only knew… children can’t fully understand. But I told them how I went to a teacher’s conference all by myself, how I was planning to go to my hotel pretty early that evening because I didn’t know anyone there and I was tired.

When an old friend suggested I go meet her sister, I thought about waiting until the next day and sticking to my current plan: going to my hotel. But I had gone there determined to let things flow, and take opportunities to connect with people, so I went to introduce myself to a stranger.

It was a small detour from my schedule, but that encounter is how I first connected with the girl who is now more of a sister than a friend. I could have missed the blessing of having a praying bestie in my life, if I hadn’t taken the opportunity to meet her.

There are so many more examples in the last year… opportunities that came up which I could have ignored, because they really didn’t fit into the path I was trying to stick to.

But by making space in my life to explore the random bends in the road, I arrived where I am today.

Stopping to talk with people. Accepting unexpected invitations. Daring to step out in faith.

Yes, we need a routine and a plan! But since God’s ways are higher than ours, we need to be aware that He might be nudging us on a different path than we’ve chosen to walk. Or He wants to add people, places, and memories to our lives to make the journey more beautiful when we return to the original path.

So go to that conference. Hang out with an old friend. Take a short missions trip.

Deviating from the everyday occasionally, if it’s done seeking God’s blessing & guidance, can be the key to personal enrichment.

Maybe God has hidden treasures to add to your life – but they’re meant for you to discover.

Maybe, they are the reward for faithfully stepping out of your way to follow Him.

I do hope those girls remember our little chat about bunny trails.

I hope they grow up to become women of God, committed to walking the path He calls them to.

And I hope that if He gives them the opportunity to pursue what feels like a bunny trail sometimes, that they will have enough faith to explore, even if it doesn’t seem to fit the mold they’ve gotten used to.

I hope they will have courage to walk the paths that lead them to places of blessing they could never have imagined themselves.

Mysteries of Teaching

It’s commonly known that to understand it, a life must be experienced, and can’t be simply explained. Maybe teaching school is like that, too.

And just like life, living it doesn’t mean it all makes sense. I encounter a lot of unexplainable things at school.

Such as, how do erasers always disappear from the same place, only to turn up in exactly the place they were missing from moments earlier? Where do they go while they are mysteriously gone?

Do children plan in advance to all be sleepy on the same day? Do they have secret “class sleepy days” planned among themselves as a means of making teachers feel tired, too?

Why does one child’s pencil sharpener spill three times in math class? Why is it that the students who enjoy math and are working quickly are not spilling pencil shavings, and the one who dislikes the subject is spending so much time sweeping?

And why is the same child who takes more time to complete the lesson also meticulous enough to actually sweep the floor well?

At what point in the year did I start answering their questions before they ask them? Why are their questions so predictable that I can do this, even though those questions may be completely off topic?

“Recess is in 7 more minutes.” “Your eraser is under your desk.” “Yes, please give your story a title.” “No, don’t fling the paintbrush to see what happens.” “Sure, which question do you need help with?”

What causes children to say everything they think, and how do they calmly carry on when I need time to recover from what I heard? Do children speak a different language than adults?

Are children aware of how wise they sound at times? Do they begin to grasp how profound the lessons are that they have taught me?

What is it about children playing catch, or taking swing rides, that makes a teacher hum along to the rhythm of it all?

How do you describe the feeling when you find a note on your desk from a student, with flowers, hearts, pigs, rainbows, or chickens drawn on it… and my name, misspelled, with the words “I love you” scrawled in grade 4 cursive.

Is there anywhere more intriguing than spending every day observing children, and learning to see the world through their eyes?

And the greatest unknown of all is this: how, when, and why, did I become so blessed to live among all these mysteries?

The Joy of Jesus

I’ve arrived home at the end of a good weekend… that kind that’s exhausting, inspiring, and energizing, all in one.

It’s this kind of weekend that fills your heart and mind with joy & inspiration to the very brim… and spills a little bit over to start your week off well.

Exhausting, because – people. Lots of people. But energizing at the same time, for the same reason!

I thrive on human connections, and when I’m able to interact with total strangers and have good conversations, I’m energized by that.

So a Bible conference with a crowd of people from God’s family that included many people I’d never met – totally fascinating to someone who enjoys the challenge of finding connection with people beyond those I’ve already met.

(We all have a human heart with human emotions, so no matter how different our lives may be, we should all be able to relate to each other!)

The weekend was filled with well planned topics, teaching about the Easter story, the details of it and their deeper significance, as well as practical applications to Christian living in the world today.

Yes, it was tiring for my hand that takes notes, but that means it definitely inspiring!

Yesterday, singing with my youth group and sharing our Easter joy with those who are struggling along in their life circumstances… somehow stirred warm gratitude in my heart and a deeper appreciation for the gift of living a redeemed life in Jesus.

This morning, Easter Sunday carried a special joy as we all sang together in praise of our Risen Saviour.

After church, I took a beautifully long nap… even extroverts eventually need a break from people, at least, I certainly do!

Driving back to church for the final service this evening, I soaked in the beauty of the sky. Gentle, subtle tones, yet a blazing sun.

Like the gentle calling of Jesus to come, to participate in the joy of His brilliant Victory.

After the service, someone suggested we youth should sing. We gathered at the front of the church and sang “Living Hope” before a few more random selections.

Just a few days ago, I directed our school mass choir through that song at our Easter program.

Tonight, I got to experience singing it, instead of just listening…

And I was fully aware of the gift to be standing there with this group of people, who I can call my youth group, and know that I’m a part of them… that I belong.

My joy swelled with the notes of the chorus, “Hallelujah! Praise the One Who set me free!”

Free – to live and thrive and serve in the place He has made for me…

Free – from all the brokenness of this world, free to look ahead to the joy that’s waiting.

Free – to live in the joy that only life in Jesus can bring!

Efficient, Effective Report Card Preparation – by a Teacher Unqualified to Speak on the Subject

*the purpose of this post is simply to relieve the author’s stress during a hectic week. If you are looking for inspiration or insightful teacher advice, I apologize, this post is written by a brain with little wisdom left to offer. 😋

To successfully teach through the week leading up to the report card deadline, there are several important things to remember.

Before I get into those, let me define what I mean by teaching the week “successfully.”

It means having worked ahead all trimester on oral reading, music, and art grades, so all you have to grade are any tests or quizzes you assign that week.

It means breathing calmly, wearing a patient smile, and working productively through organized priority lists every afternoon.

Success means you reach the end of the week with satisfaction after completing another set of report cards with a few hours to spare, and you survived just fine.

This is my fourteenth time doing report cards.

Personally, there are only a few rules to follow to make the process quite manageable.

Work ahead. Do not procrastinate. Definitely don’t get busy planning the Easter program and practicing to direct the mass choir, when you should be taking grades for report cards.

Don’t attempt any extras.

For example, plan a simple art lesson that doesn’t require you to go shopping for supplies. Don’t have a complex poetry assignment to organize with your seventh grade writing class. Don’t ask your co-teachers for a second mass choir practice.

And finally, you must not be sick during report cards week. It does not work.

As you’ve probably guessed by now, I didn’t work ahead.

I did allow myself to be caught up in the Easter program preparations, and suddenly, the report card deadline was looming.

Yes, it was me you saw walking frantically down the store aisle, buying aerosol hairspray for an art project. At a late evening hour on Monday night.

Were those poems I was marking? Yes! But such beautiful, eloquent poetry they wrote… It simply must be made into posters for the Easter season!

And sometimes, extras are unavoidable, like when a student comes inside with a wet dress. There could have been better days, but really, report cards week or not, it’s never a good day to fall in a puddle.

Thankfully, there’s a hair dryer in my car. Oh yes, I need to do my hair before church so I brought my things along – why the hair dryer, I’m not sure, obviously I just grabbed all the hair stuff I could see in my sleepy state this morning.

Spelling papers were passed out. Confused faces. Hands are raised. Many, many hands. Cold, wet, child shivered. Grammar tests called longingly from my desk…

I motion. Hands go down. They wait while I explain. I assign study partners for good measure. Confusion turns to delight – we haven’t done this very often! They’re a bit young, possibly, but thanks to a teacher inspiration day I attended recently, I decide to give it a try.

(It’s also an act of desperation to keep those hands down, as I need to start blow drying that child. Now.)

I race through the cold wind to my car. I didn’t take time to put a coat on. Soon, I’m running/shivering/leaping over puddles as I run back across the parking lot, valiantly bearing a hair dryer.

I crouch. Hair dryer blows. Tension leaves child’s face as she sees that this crazy idea is working.

I explain the hair dryer settings and leave her in charge of that operation. The rest of the morning passes by in a somewhat less harried fashion.

The student who will be traveling completed their assignments. I do an oral reading assessment as well as a spelling test while hoping the rest of the class won’t need too much help with their reading lesson. I need those grades before this student leaves on vacation…

With some juggling and feeling suspiciously stretched, we arrive at lunch. Hot lunch, served by several moms, puts us all in a good mood. No one took fourths of jello or thirds of dessert today. They all returned their utensils without being reminded. They said “thank you” to the cooks.

Story time, cursive writing, corrections, and suddenly, last recess. I decided to skip history because I have a headache. Oral checking and corrections were a good use of our time.

Then we had library time, and art. The art lesson that required me explaining every step of the project, and answering countless questions, and hearing my name until I’m ready to change it to something else, just to hear a different sound, and definitely never going near my chair.

Finally, I found myself spraying hairspray onto all their papers to seal the drawing chalk. It was very cold outside. I vaguely thought of it that I shouldn’t be outside, feeling the way I was…

Finally, my sweet bunch of noisy chaos bounces out the door.

The productive after school routine that is required for effective report card preparation should not revolve around tea. It should not require advil.

You should not look blearily at the calendar and desperately count the days until this craziness is complete.

You should not pray for a snow day.

You should not be listening to the incredibly long list of directions on your doctor’s answering service, when you have work to do.

Because you should never be sick the week of report cards.

Please, believe me – it does not work.

A Day in the Life…

Have I mentioned lately that I love teaching?

Sometimes I forget that I do.

It’s easy to get into the routine, get used to the chaos, and start to take the familiarity of school life for granted.

But once in awhile, I remember to sit back and look at my day as though I’m a new teacher again, and I’m amazed at all the things that happen in a day.

When they hired me nearly five years to be a teacher, I naively expected I would study academic matters and find avenues to pass on that knowledge to children. Which I do, every day.

But this is Wednesday morning, and much has already happened beyond academics.

Before the 9:00 bell rang, the peace at my desk was disturbed by the sound of running feet past my door. Several pairs of running feet. I hoped none of my students would do that…? Maybe someone was visiting school with little children?

A moment later, the sound started back my direction. And unfortunately, when I looked toward the door, three very familiar looking coats ran by. I knew those coats… because I spend recess with those coats every day. The wearers of those coats were running, and the wearers of those coats happen to be… my students.

And just like last week on hot lunch day, I thought of my favourite quote for moments like these:

“As soon as you say “My child would never!” Here they come nevering like they never nevered before.”

(Last week there was jello served for hot lunch, which is always a favourite. Some children really like jello, that’s all. And I felt a little more Mom than Teacher as I gave a short spiel about respect, and self-control, and common sense, all in regards to the regulating of jello consumption.)

Thankfully the running incident was corrected with little drama – they’re a respectful, sweet bunch of children. It just so happened that they were playing tag and the game accidently moved into the building. They seemed to think it made perfect sense. And I remember in awe – children think differently.

Teachers correct, encourage, guide, and apparently, give neck massages during recess to the little girl who says she can’t turn her head. You never know what you’ll hear when you answer a raised hand in class, and I’m used to the random moments. However, it’s not every day I hear, “Could you please give me a shoulder massage? It hurts.”

That’s not the most astounding thing I heard this week.

Yesterday, they were discussing CPR at lunch. (Seeing that in type makes me realize – that’s not a typical meal conversation. Unless you’re nine, apparently.)

Through the conversation, a few comments stood out to me:

“Wait, you can die and come back to life? Like, you’d actually see Jesus and heaven but still come back?”

“Oh yeah, that happens to some people.”

“Well, they just are unconcious. Like, they almost die.”

“Wow! I didn’t know that can happen!”

At this point, from his reclined position, around a mouthful of cheetos, a student inserts “I saw Jesus once.”

Instant silence. Most of the students look shocked.

But the girl next to Mr. Cheetos calmly replies, “Really? That’s cool. Did you die once or what?”

Everyone starts panicking that their classmate might’ve had a near death experience that they never heard about.

Miss Calm reminds them that it doesn’t matter, he’s alive and well now. (and casually munching his lunch while everyone else freaks out.)

Apparently he decided there had been enough chaos and paused to say, “Like, it wasn’t the real Jesus that I saw. I saw a picture of Him. It might not even be how He looks, I don’t know. But – I kinda saw Him.”

Once again, I internally shake my head and wonder how kids minds function so differently than adults. It’s something I find fascinating every day; I feel so blessed to have such a front seat view of the antics of God’s small people.

I totally know why Jesus told His followers to become as little children.

When you look past the mischief, the random questions, the seeming lack of common sense – you realize they’re beautifully inquisitive.

They want to learn everything about their world.

They aren’t bound by the restrictions of peer pressure and maintaining an image.

They’re honest. (This is not always entirely a good thing, however they are without question, honest.)

They’re willing to explore, investigate, and learn.

They take risks.

They’re quite fearless, which may or may not cause my blood pressure to spike depending what they attempt. (Class, I do not want to try explaining this to your parents if someone gets hurt while you attempt this…)

But with all these traits, they are fluid, moldable, teachable.

Which is exactly what we need to be for God to work His purposes through us.

Humble enough to be willing to learn so that He can mold us into servants, equipped to serve in His kingdom.

Snowflakes and Joy

Warmth floods my heart tonight in spite of the cold outside…

At the end of a day filled with so many beautiful little things, who couldn’t help but smile?

I had promised my Littles an extra skating slot because they had three quizzes yesterday and a test today, poor dears. They deserved a reward for all their hard work! So this morning, we were on the ice before ever going into the classroom.

Snowflakes floated down all around me, settling gently on my hair, dusting everything I could see like a scene from a Christmas card. So peaceful.

We played several rounds of Centerline on the glassy smooth ice that’s only experienced in the first slot of the day.

The other teacher and I were the last two people free, and my students giggled in delight when we had to go “it” for the next round.

Don’t ever think that being the teacher makes games easier with young children! It’s much more exhausting to play games as a teacher than a student.

When you’re the teacher, they ALL chase you… and I don’t mind at all. I laugh as the whole mob flocks after me, then I allow them to overtake me after giving them a good challenge first.

Soon they started to practice all their “cool” hockey moves, testing their nine year old coordination to its limits.

Next, they graduated to imitating Mr. Popper’s penguins in their approach to the end zone, laughing as they zoomed toward the boards headfirst on their stomachs. (Thankfully my penguins can turn, roll, and sit up as needed to prevent this form of amusement from becoming catastrophic!)

A song floated through my mind as I paused at one side to simply observe the game and soak in the beauty of pure childish enthusiasm. “I still have joy, I still have joy, after all the things we’ve been through… I still have joy!”

So many parts of teaching aren’t idyllic like this scene. But in moments like this, I know with confidence that it’s all worth it.

Yes, there are little problems that you face daily, threatening to wear through your patience. That’s only to be expected when you are working with a roomful of immature people who all have an Adamic nature – and you’re one of them.

There are relationships to continually monitor and mend.

There are always those who struggle in one area or another, and sometimes the solutions seem illusive though we try so hard to help.

Every day, a group of children enters my classroom. They need to be taught, guided, corrected, nurtured, encouraged, and loved.

Some days, the responsibility feels a little heavy.

But looking back, I’ve seen change over the years. I’ve watched these children grow.

The tenth grader who looks me in the eye and smiles when we pass in the hall…

The wee girl who used to be afraid to come to school, now bouncing confidently through the door with a lively sparkle in her eyes every day…

The boy who returned the question when I asked him how his day was going… I wonder if he could hear the heartfelt meaning when I simply replied, “it’s going very well, thank you!”

My shiny eyes after he passed were from recalling the many times he had rebuffed attempts at conversation in the past…

These students that fight through insecurity, that hesitantly start to believe what we tell them, that they are loved and precious in God’s sight… they are why I teach.

I’m seeing these students learning to reach outside of their walls, to not only let others in but to reach out and touch others hearts, and it’s beautiful.

These moments, these enormously important so-called “little things” are why I teach.

No, it hasn’t all been an easy journey, but I keep on because I love it.

Because so many little moments sprinkled into every day make the journey beautiful.

And “after all the things we’ve been through, I still have joy!”

2023: A Book Worthy of its Place on my Shelf

So, it’s here.

Here, and two minutes close to ending…

This last day of the year 2023.

I find it interesting how we put so much emphasis on the ending of an old year, and welcome the new year with so many emotions… when what really changes in life from 11:59 to 12:00?

Yet, imagine if life was one endless rolling span of time with no way to measure it.

I am so grateful that God created time for us, because He knew we would need those milestones.

It’s a way of sorting life into chapters, actually. Or little hardcover books, that together compile an entire set of volumes which tell a person’s life story.

New Years Day is like the beautiful cover of an empty book. Everything the year holds then goes into it page by page, and December 31 closes the back cover, completing that part of the journey.

(If my comparison of a year to a book seems odd, I apologize… it makes sense to me, but that’s probably because I’m a writer at heart and love all things that contain words, so… books, yes. Also, writers are known to be a rather fanciful, imaginative sort, and therefore may draw far fetched comparisons. Enough said on that bunny trail…)

The covers of a book really don’t tell you what it contains, yet they influence you to decide if it’s worthwhile reading or not.

You don’t know when you start reading what direction the story will go to end up at the last page.

Likewise, the first and last day of a year don’t reveal many details of the events within the year – yet when you compare just those two days, they reveal what kind of year you just lived.

On January 1st, 2023, I was joyful, loving life.

December 31, 2023, I am still joyful. But oh, so much more intensely alive!

The covers of the book don’t reveal all the steps of the journey I walked between them – but the difference from one to the other shows a good year, a year of growth a year to praise God for.

They say you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, and I respect that.

But when it comes to evaluating the year… I’d rather like to judge by the progress made from one cover to the other.

I could jump into the middle of March, or June, or September, and I’d only have pieces of the story.

I could compare the tears I cried with the number of times I sang for joy at the top of my voice, and decide by that… but it might not be accurate.

What if, even in times of turmoil, God is doing so much good in us that we can’t help but call the story good?

And if the entire year was joyful and easy, would I have been challenged to grow? And if not, how sad, to have lived a whole year with so little accomplished.

I prefer to judge my year by the front and back cover: What was my prayer when I entered 2023, and could I see God’s answer by the last day?

…Oh, YES.

This year, I hoped to blossom. Today, I know I have. It doesn’t matter that the pages of the story don’t hold what I expected them to on January 1st, what matters is that God was faithful to answer my prayer – in His way, but always faithful.

And if God is faithful, God is good… and any year that shows His goodness is a story that was worth the living!

So as I close the cover of 2023, forever sealing into that book every moment I lived within its pages, I place it on the shelf of years gone by with peace in my heart.

It’s not a volume I need to bury, or wish I could remove from the set. I lived it with God at my side and His faithfulness is written into every line, making it a good year. It’s a year I would not change or redo – I am ready for the new year, but I value the place 2023 holds in my life story.

So I place it in it’s worthy position on the shelf, where God asks me to lay it down in the section marked “Past,” and I turn to accept the new book He offers.

This one is blank. It’s called 2024. I trust God to make it beautiful in whatever way He chooses.

Blessings to you all as you open the cover of a new book… let God write the story and you will find 2024 to be another year of experiencing His goodness!