Yesterday…

15 minutes after the bell rang, a young man in my class slapped another one and a fight ensued. My mom adrenaline took over and without processing, I jumped right in the middle of it and pushed one away from the other and sent one out of the class immediately. I think it was out of regard for me it dissipated. I walked the other to the office, gave a report, and moved on with the day.

A little later, I was talking to a table working on a group project. I asked 2 young men what they want to do after high school. They both said they didn’t know. Then, one of them said, “All I know is I won’t be no businessman.” I asked him why. He said, “I just know I won’t make it. Not the way me and my brothers are.” So, I responded. Forget about what you want to do. What kind of man do you want to be? The whole table got quiet. One finally said, “What do you mean, Mrs.?” I said, well, what you do matters, but who you are matters much more. To that he said, I don’t know how to answer that.

I said, Do you want to be kind? Gentle? A man of integrity? Someone the people you love can trust? They looked down for a moment, then asked what integrity meant. We had a nice, brief dialogue about that. A few moments later, they told me they didn’t know what to say, but they would think about it and tell me later. A win in my book.

At lunch the same day, another student, my sweet little Muslim friend, came into my room just before lunch crying. She’s often picked on for her faith and for wearing her hijab. She told me what some girls said to her and wanted to call her dad to go home. I just listened to her. When she got really upset, I hugged her, and she cried in my arms. When she calmed down, I told her how brave and courageous she is for showing up authentically in a culture that isn’t her own and how much she teaches me just by being who she is. Some tears fell again, but softly and with a smile on her face this time.

When I was preparing for the role of teaching, I asked the Lord to help me remember my 7th grade year. And after a few days I was frustrated that I couldn’t remember anything. Not one assignment, not one project. Just a few interactions with my favorite teacher and meeting my best friend, Candice. That’s when the light bulb came on. That was it.

If my students won’t remember our explicit vocabulary routine or the fun group projects I come up with, then what will they remember? They might remember me. They might remember they felt enjoyed and celebrated in my classroom. They might remember that I really cared. Not just about their education but also everything it means to be them.

The gift of walking with Jesus is knowing that you’re in the will of God no matter where you find yourself. I dealt with years of inner discontent and turmoil believing all my time at home with the kids was keeping me from something else. Now I know beyond any shadow of doubt it was my training ground. Heaven shows up in every interaction if we have eyes to see it. I don’t have to go anywhere or strive for anything. There are people everywhere, just steps away, who need the love I have to give. And what an abundant life of giving it is. So, so grateful.