Seriously! Teach for 30+ years, and I still get finger-shaking-nervous to read in a front of 1-3 years (1st to 3rd grade) at the Montessori school. It was like every 1st day of school all over again. I laughed for being humbled is never easy for me, and I know God is enjoying reminding me. For all things change – the more they stay the same.
That being said, I still have a “can-do” set of objectives in my head when I sit in a teacher’s chair. I can still spot the mischievous ones within a couple minutes and know their names by the 5 minute mark. I can still see the ones who really want to speak and just don’t know how. I can still get pretty much all of them to laugh, smile, and get excited about a book – a stuffed goat – a piece of plain white paper and a pencil.
Not bad for an old woman.
“But the conclusion is that you should all be in harmony; suffer with those who are suffering, love one another, be merciful and humble…”
Torah readings. Sermons. Letters. Over and over…from the beginning…these words have been repeated throughout the OT/NT. It doesn’t seem like a very hard list to live by – – – and yet – – – generation after generation still falter in their steps – stumble over the idols – weep over their broken dreams – and struggle with the choice –
to stand or not to stand.
“And you should not repay a person evil for evil, neither insults for insults; but to the contrary of these things, give blessings, for you are called to this, that you would inherit blessing.”~1 Pt 3:8-9
It is a beautiful evening outside even if it is a little chilly – okay – a lot chilly. Even snow bears don’t want to be out there (after all, if there is no snow to roll in what fun is it?). When I look at the stars tonight and see the universe that Stephen Hawkins wrote and taught about so often, I don’t think of it like he did. I tend to be overwhelmed at the vastness and awe-filled fear as I think of the linear time line of this small world. I think of all the generations that have come before me.
Those who looked up.
Those who have faltered.
Those who have stumbled.
Those who have wept.
Those who have looked up with dust-filled mouths, skinned up knees and bloodied hands.
When I look up I remember the Genesis. I remember the WORD. I remember the songs and the prophets. I remember the covenants, and in faith – I reach for His staff, fallen by my side. Standing when the WORD offers its firmness under my feet. Thinking when His WORD clears the clutter and shines a light for the first step – for what is faith without action? That is the cool thing about thinking and praying; it always leads to new actions. Maybe salty actions that shake those traveling beside me, but humble actions inspired by the One who walked towards Jerusalem so long ago – who waits outside the door and knocks…
“Lord, make me an instrument of your peace:
where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy.
O divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek
to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand,
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive,
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned,
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen.”~Peace Prayer of St. Francis