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.
Notes from My Heartsong 