So much of life is centered around a calendar:
THE SCHOOL CALENDAR
And here I’ve blown it again. Faithful reader, faithful teacher … so few blog entries have come your way since the school year started. My apologies. Again.
One thing I offer in defense – a few months ago I got this word from the Lord. You ever get a word from him? Often the word from him is a little uncomfortable, a little unsettling, a little – warning: preachy word coming – convicting.
But this wasn’t one of those kinds of words. This word was soothing. It was gentle. It was unexpected. If it was a touch then I’d describe it as a pat on the back turned into a sure hug. He’d been keeping this a secret from me for awhile, but he was ready to let me in on it. Want to know what my word from the Lord was?
THIS BLOG IS NOT MY CALLING.
I started this “school year” fresh with a new preschool Sunday School class. It’s the sweetest group of seven I’ve ever met and no more than three of them show up on any given Sunday.
There’s one that I’m quite sure is too old for my class and there’s one that I’m one hundred percent sure is too young. And one week there was just me and Alice, sweet Alice. Alice screamed the first two times they tried to introduce us. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t personal as her cries started before they drug her anywhere near my classroom door.
These days Alice comes in all quiet and proper like and smiles a lot and some weeks I understand what she tells me and other weeks I just smile, too, and nod my head.
Alice is my calling. And so is David. And Sarah. Both Sarahs. And those other three who came one time and will come back again one week.
My calling is stacks of picture books that often get overlooked, and stickers that always get put on posters and faces, and a tea set with water from the fountain, and play dough, once five colors and now just one.
My calling is songs that play from a smart phone now, and hands that still clap in time, and directions that wait for obedience, and words that keep saying the same sweet things.
He made us. He loves us. He cares for us. He hears us. He forgives us. He likes us. He’s GOOD.
Sometimes blogs happen. Sometimes they don’t.
And I’m betting that for you, sometimes you’re all prepped for teaching, and sometimes you’re not.
We are in this for the long haul. One week won’t make you and one week won’t break you. But every faithful week that you show up, all of them all added up together, they will matter.
Let’s not make this more difficult than it really is.
Sometimes we do our part best by simply hiding his word in our own hearts until it spills out, just as naturally as that fountain water spills out from little tea sets.
The older class down the hall didn’t have a single student show up one Sunday, just a few weeks ago. Their teachers came to visit me and Alice. I was just a talking to the wife in the doorway, but the husband couldn’t help himself. That white haired man sat down on that floor, cross-legged, and started chatting, really softly, as softly as God talks to me sometimes.
Alice smiled and poured him some tea.
And time stood still for me.
Don’t worry. Another New Year is coming soon. I might do better.
We’ve been talking about the first few chapters of the Bible in my preschool Sunday School class this fall. The Bible is a chapter book, you know. It’s not a picture book. It’s a big book. My David reminded me that our first week.
We spent a lot of time making sure we got the beginning down.
The Maker and the making.
The instructions, not just the do not, but also the doing part. The multiplying. The filling the earth with God’s glory.
The messing ups and the starting overs.
The big numbers that you can’t count, like the stars and the sand.
The moving around from Eden to Canaan to Egypt. We made us a tent.
We’re about to be slaves that need saving.
And then we’ll be ready to wait for our own Savior.
A New Year is coming.
I’m ready for it. I’m filling up my Pinterest board with all sorts of ideas. You could send me some more pins.
But there’s no telling what’ll really come of the next few weeks. We’ve got angel stickers and cotton for sheep. How much more could we really need …