Tag Archives: Mark

BREADCRUMBS: Thoughts and Prayers.

As a student, educator, mom, grandmother, and citizen – the past few days brings the violence a little closer to my heart. The world of education has been my world for most of my 67 years of life. It is the world I know. It is the world I love.

Those are my thoughts. I have many thoughts.

I was the 7th grader sitting in a classroom where a classmate stored their hunting rifle in the teacher’s closet. Later, I went on dates with a rifle in a gun rack right behind me. 
I was the young educator threatened with a knife and later a gun during my early years of teaching. 
I am mom who sent her children to schools where I taught and sent them off to colleges and work places in big cities – far, far away. 
I am a Grandmother who weekly picks up her Grands from their school.
I am a senior citizen who cries for her country.

Actually, I cried for my country many years ago while I was still in college. I watched my university close down for a period of time due to violence. As one of two white faces, I sat in a one of the first Black Studies courses taught on campus. I was ridiculed, in-your-face harassed several times by other students in that class, as well as threatened bodily harm in very descriptive terms.
I cried for an ugly war. I cried for people I knew who were fighting there. I cried for the soldiers were spit upon and heckled as they wore their uniforms. I cried over choosing abortion over life because I was a fool.

I have thought about these things over the past few days. I have thought about the posts on both sides that seems to further the division between all sides of the issue. The palpable anger that seems to resonate between the lines on a screen or the voices on TV/radio. I thought about FL.

I have thoughts…….and……I have prayers.

Sometime in my late 20’s I figured out that thoughts are not enough. Life is complicated and way beyond my meager understanding. Humbled prodigals can find their way home. However, there was something that was much wiser than my own thoughts. Something that had guided my path until I got lost. 
An action. 
A choice. 

“This all happened on Friday, the day of preparation, the day before the Sabbath. As evening approached, Joseph of Arimathea took a risk and went to Pilate and asked for Jesus’ body. (Joseph was an honored member of the high council, and he was waiting for the Kingdom of God to come.) Pilate couldn’t believe that Jesus was already dead, so he called for the Roman officer and asked if he had died yet. The officer confirmed that Jesus was dead, so Pilate told Joseph he could have the body. Joseph bought a long sheet of linen cloth. Then he took Jesus’ body down from the cross, wrapped it in the cloth, and laid it in a tomb that had been carved out of the rock. Then he rolled a stone in front of the entrance. Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joseph saw where Jesus’ body was laid.”~Mk 15:42-47

As I read this passage today, I thought about the young ladies being buried in FL. I thought about a Father who also watched His Son being buried. I thought about the night before when Rabbi Yeshua prayed. That mysterious connection that opened between Heaven and Terra – between Father and Son. 
That choice. That action. 
That prayer. That blessing.

When people say, “Our thoughts and prayers are with you.” I wonder if those are the words the Father replied to his Son? And if they were, I wonder how closely the Son held them in his heart when he heard the temple guards approach? What I do know – there was no anger in his actions. There was peace and healing.
So I pray and think some more.

Whether a person means those words is not for me to judge – only Our Father can determine that. But if those were the words – or something similar – that Christ held in his heart throughout everything he endured on that last day, that phrase is not a throw-away to be denigrated. 
It is a choice.
It is an action.
It is a blessing.

Thoughts and prayers.

A blessing to those who are suffering – to those in pain – to those who are sorrowful – to those who are needy.

A blessing.             

1d22c-you-are-in-my-thoughts-and-prayers-candle-and-hands[google image]



It is Grands’ night. Hot tub – mac n’ cheese Papa style – Wii – 2 bowls of popcorn (half of it on the bed) – 1 bottle of Grandma water (a piece) – 3 peep Oreos each – 1 movie – drawing the last picture of the night in their little notebooks – a little Jim Brickman lullaby in the background – 1 Koayah puppy squished in the middle of them – and they are asleep. (and yes – Mama – they brushed their teeth extra good because I threatened never to spoil them again. Although – I don’t think they really believed me. They kept laughing.)

I don’t know who enjoys these nights more. We talk. We catch up on their ball practices and school. We talk about coloring duck eggs with their neighborhood besties tomorrow and laugh over a stubbed toe. There is nothing more precious than getting to spend a night with the Grands. I only wish I could have retired about 13 years earlier so I could have moved to MI to be with my older Grands…well…that is probably stretching it a bit since a MI winter is definitely not on my to-do-over-list.

It is not how I usually spend my evenings on Maundy Thursday. Growing up, we would go to church. Later in college and beyond, our family would go to church. Full of familiar rituals, age-old hymns, prayers, solemnity. In the past few years, this night has been more an internal day and today was an eye opener.

The Grands and I were on the bed, watching Prince of Egypt in honor of Passover when it dawned on me. This was probably a closer way to spend this Holy Day than anything I have everdone. The Grands and I shared a meal. We laughed and told stories. We remembered the Moshe and the first deliverence of the Jewish people. We sang a song – it wasn’t Psalm 118 which is the Psalm sung at the Passover Seder – but in my heart it was singing.

“Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good!
His faithful love endures forever.”~Psalm 118:1

And now – in the quiet of the night – my prayers circling to the darkened, star-lit skies – Grands stretched out all over the large bed – dog snuggled in their own bed while Hubby snores softly in his – I find my cornerstone of this night. The stone rejected steadies my balance and holds me upright. Even has a yawn stretches up through my rib cage and my eyes grow heavy, I struggle to stay awake and pray with Him.

“They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” he said to them. “Stay here and keep watch.”~Mk 14:32–34

This is the part of the night that hits Rabbi Yeshua’s humanness – hits my humanness. I don’t do well with sacrifice. I like to think I do, but I don’t. I know my eyes – like the loved ones who shared the meal with their beloved rabbi – mine will also close before long, and my prayers will rise into the darkness above me.
Alone. He. Prayed.
Alone. He. Cried.
Alone…but not really.
The perfect lamb alone in a garden…waiting to become the rejected stone…waiting to sacrifice himself for the world that rejected him…waiting for you…waiting for me, straining to listen for His Father’s voice. No words came. No sign. Just the quite of the night. But that is where Yeshua’s humanness and mine are miles apart because even though he did not “feel” His Father or “hear” His Father or “see” a sign from His Father. He “knew beyond knowing” that His Father was very much present. Listening. Seeing. Loving. Eternally. 
The solemnity of the night has wrapped itself around me once again. I wish I always “knew beyond knowing” like my Savior. It is something I still a striving to find. Another yawn brings tears to the surface of my eyes, and I know it is time to check on the Grands once last time before I give in and close my eyes for the night.
Mothering habits don’t really ever go away, and I will probably wake up before daybreak and check on them once again. Tonight, I will remember that Rabbi Yeshua was still awake praying. Praying as he waited. Talking to His Father. Trusting His Father. Waiting. But not alone. Never alone.
Tonight that is what I remember when I think of Maundy Thursday. Never alone. Ever. Not once.


“The stone that the builders rejected
has now become the cornerstone.
This is the LORD’s doing,
and it is wonderful to see.
This is the day the LORD has made.
We will rejoice and be glad in it.” Ps 118:22-24

Advent Hope #4: Be Alert

Today I saw a posting on FB from a Dollywood employee in TN. The wildfire had touched the entertainment park, but it was not destroyed it, so they were cleaning up. He described finding a ripped, burned page of a Bible under a bench. The verses of Joel were not all legible, but the ones that were made references to fires and the day of the LORD being at hand.
I began to ponder – – – again. Pondering can be a good thing; it can also be a real faith knocker. The pondering, skeptical mind rationalizes this worker. Did he truly “find” it? Is he an internet glory seeker? Even that random thought – what’s on the other side of that page? (If it is like my study bible, there are just notes about Joel and the times in which he lived.)
I get frustrated with myself when I let world views intrude on things that I just want to get excited about. However, it was when I was reading Max Lucado’s Because of Christmas devotional guide, that the pondering stopped and faith took over.
“Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come.”~Mk 13:33
Mary was an exceptional person of faith. Scripture tells us that after she got over the idea of standing in the presence of an angel, she accepted the words immediately into her whole self. Her Magnificat when she greets her cousin Elizabeth has always been one of my favorite parts of the Bible.
Joseph on the other hand was – perhaps a lot like me – a kind-hearted, person- – – but – – – not so full of faith. He couldn’t just take the word of his espoused wife, but he didn’t want any harm to come to her, so he planned to divorce her quietly (Matt 1:19). So BAM – angel returns – speaks his message, and Joseph and Mary are off to Bethlehem.
Which I guess brings me to the whole pondering bit again. Just think how many people didn’t listen to the prophets or the angels or the signs in the heavens? They were reasonable people. Educated people. People who went to Temple and sacrificed regularly. Worked to make their community better. Loved their neighbors as themselves. And really? Talk about the Messiah had been going on since the times of Genesis (3:15). So why here? Why this couple? Why now?
Which brings me back to that earlier post that set all this pondering into motion today. Why not here? Why not Issac McCord? Why not now? God has sent messages in many different ways to His people over the centuries. Rabbi Yeshua said, “Be on guard! Be alert!” “…if you have faith as small as a mustard seed…”
Believe me, tonight I am praying on building my faith a little more. To be more alert and on guard – to listen with spiritual ears and see with spiritual eyes. We are in the season of celebrating Christ’s first advent into our world – but we are living in the days of his second advent onto Terra – whether it is tomorrow – a week – a month – a year – or decades from now. We merely have to get dressed for the wedding and wait. Geez – faith journeys are really not very easy, but I’m trying in this Advent of Hope. #perhapstomorrow [google images]

BTW – Today’s art work is by an Israeli man, Yoram Raanan, whose art studio was destroyed by one of the wildfires last week in Israel. It seemed appropriate to use it in so many ways.  

Because of Christmas #11: HopeTree

“You, me, and the Christmas tree. Picked purchased, and pruned. Trust God’s work.”~Max Lucado (p127)
Advent begins tomorrow. The annunciation was only the beginning – – – the beginning of hope. The trees of the garden have been locked away for so long because of our poor choices. Is it any wonder that salvation came wrapped – in so many ways – in the cloak of a tree?
“Who Himself bore our sins in His body on the tree, so that, having been dead to sins, we might live to righteousness…” ~1Peter 2:24a
It is the reason we cry during those sappy Christmas movies. The reason we want to pull the tree out of the attic before Thanksgiving. The reason we can halfway stand the pain when a loved one leaves this temporal plane. The reason that everyone feels like singing “O Christmas Tree” even if they can’t carry a tune in a a tree-holding bucket.
A Tree of Hope.
Today, I managed to get one of my Christmas trees in place. Now don’t get too excited. My trees are of the 3 foot variety, and they sit in Rubbermaid containers most of the year. There are no ornaments on it tonight. There are no presents beneath it’s branches. For tonight, my Grandma Mac’s creche sits beneath it and my version of the annunciation angel and heavenly lights are its only decoration. It won’t stay that way, but for tonight, it is perfect and I am content.
“And having looked up, he [the blind man]was saying, “I see the men, for I see them as trees walking.” ~Mk 8:24
Sometimes – we see ourselves as that mighty oak tree in the middle of a field. Strong. Resilient. But often -we become too hard, Grow too tall, Don’t sink our roots deep enough. Allowing the swirling winds of this world to whip us this way and that. Letting the storms of life rip our leaves, fruit and sometimes – even the limbs off our trunk. It is only after we recognize the new Tree of Life -you know – the one that the Father sent to save us from ourselves – that our “blind” eyes are finally opened. In His light we can become the sapling that we were always meant to be so that we might bare more hope-filled fruit for those around us.
Because of Christmas – we have the Hope Tree. 
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Not hard to find things to be thankful for today. Since I woke up – and until I close my – it was a jump-in-the-air-thanks giving day. A God given day – but then – isn’t every day – good or bad – a God given day? We merely have to remember and give thanks.

Got three plants in the ground. Scrubbed the hot tub so we can fill it again. Read a couple short devotions. Blew a million and one leaves off the deck and patio (and we won’t even talk about the million more still waiting out back). Worked on a couple things for Christmas. Read a couple chapters in my book. Picked a rose.

Our garden is covered in leaves and – although I’ve cleaned some of the debris away – it is no where near ready for winter. As I read today’s Ration, I thought about a different kind of God given day. The day the author is describing was much different.

It was a day of pain – a day of suffering – a day of tears – a day when the Light flickered across the world – and curtains torn.

A God given day. We just didn’t know it. All your days are God-given – whether you know it or not, so it is a good day to be thankful.

1942 Daily Rations: “Read: St. Mark 15:1-39

“And the soldiers led him away into the hall, called Praetorium; and they call together the whole band. And they clothed him with purple and platted a crown of thorns, and put it about his head. . .And they bring him unto the place Golgotha, which is, being interpreted The place of a skull.

“We are coming to the cross today. We are coming through Pilate’s judgment hall through the silences of Jesus, through the clothing with purple, through the smiling and the spitting to ‘the place of a skull’ where ‘they crucified him.’

“Note how all sections of the people seem to have been involved in that deed- – -rulers judges, soldiers, priests, people. Some wicked fanatics call his race, according to the flesh, ‘Christ killers.’ No, we are all potential Christ killers. ‘All have sinned, and come short.’ I was in that crowd today.

“I SEE the crowd in Pilate’s hall,
I mark their wrathful mien;
Their shouts of ” crucify ” appall,
With blasphemy between.
And of that shouting multitude
I feel that I am one;
And in that din of voices rude,
I recognize my own.”~’Twas I that did it’ by Horatius Bonar

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It is the month of thankfulness, and I am sooooo thankful that the political ads are about to go away – – -for a space of time. I am also thankful that we don’t watch regular TV very often, or I might be REALLY sick of the continuous play of political nonsense that only spews hate and venom instead of issues. Needless to say – today’s Ration was on point again.
‘We grow ‘righteously indignant’ abut our own grievances, and remain cool and calm in the face of corruption in high places, the exploitation of the helpless, and we shut our eyes to manifold evils that kindled the fire of anger in the heart of our Lord.’~1942 Ration #87
It reminded me of Manasseh. This boy king of Judah grew up and undid everything that is father had tried to establish – leading his people off G-d’s perfect path and onto his own destructive path. Then he took it up a notch by walking away from all righteousness, truth, love, and character – to the point of sacrificing his own children to Baal and killing the prophets who were sent to warn him – including his grandfather, Isaiah. [2 Chronicles 33]
As always, there is a price to pay. Manasseh was captured, tortured and, according to Jewish tradition, put in a bronze cauldron with a fire lit beneath him. It was then that he called out to all the gods he had been worshiping. In desperation, he finally cried out to G-d, the God of his fathers.
Jewish sages say that G-d was moved, but the angels were not. They argued back and forth that such a despicable man did not deserve mercy. G-d replied, “If I do not accept him in repentance, I am locking the door before all repentant sinners.” God forgave him and for the rest of his life, he tried to undo all that he had done. A side note – the rest of his life was 33 years which I find interesting.
There is a Jewish prayer that is used during fast times and the High Holy Days that I am adding to my prayers these last few days before the election. It is this line that holds me on my knees just a little longer: “…although we have no worthy deeds, treat us with charity and kindness, and save us.” Thank you for not locking the door. Thank you for forgiving us. Thank you for the gift of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Lord, Amen.
1942 Daily Rations: ” ‘He…looked…with anger.’~Mark 3:3
“Jesus could get angry! But it is very significant that his anger was never for himself though he suffered injustice and abuse far exceeding anything that any of us will ever know. But it was the exploitation of others, especially the weak and innocent, that aroused his wrath. The selfish and callous subordination of the needs of man to the letter of the law, the desecration of the house of God by human greed, the perversion of abuse of God’s human greed, the perversion of abuse of God’s ‘little ones’– – -these were the things that made him look ‘with anger’.
Besides the splendid indignation of Jesus how petty are most of our outbursts of anger! We grow ‘righteously indignant’ abut our own grievances, and remain cool and calm in the face of corruption in high places, the exploitation of the helpless, and we shut our eyes to manifold evils that kindled the fire of anger in the heart of our Lord. If we would look ‘with anger’ through his eyes, we would do more about the wrongs of the world.
“Prayer: Forgive us, O Lord, for our anger over our own grievances and difficulties and grant us so to have ‘the mind of Christ’ that we may be deeply aroused by the evils that hurt and degrade our brothers In his name. Amen.”   [google images]


Stacked some wood. Moved some more leaves. Made the bed. Broke a toe. Errrr…..

Our kid – the youngest dog – decided the ball was more important than her surrogate mama, and as I was stepping one way, she was running the other. Collision of toe to leg doesn’t always work out well. Cracking sounds to not bode well. Hence one toe is now turning that wonderful purply-pink, double-sized, achy toe. Maybe I’ll be lucky, and it will just be stoved. sigh. At least I know that tonight, I will be tucked into a fresh sheets and a newly made bed. Somehow the world is better when you sleep in a clean bed.

I’m one of those weird people who makes their bed everyday – well – most everyday. It is the first thing I do and answers my first prayer of the day, “Yahweh, …please give me success this day…” Gen 24:12  It also makes me smile.

Daddy is the one who taught me to make a bed – after all – I was sleeping in a USMC bed that he brought home from somewhere. Consequently, the bed had to look like it should. Squared corners. Tucked in cover sheet. One pillow. These days – all that has gone away except for the square corners. How can you make a bed without square corners. I don’t bounce a quarter any more, but I remember when dad used to – just to check it out. That is when he put stars on my ceiling and wrote my initials with the stars.

At night after a book or two, Mom would braid my hair and then Dad would tuck the sheets tightly around my body as he kissed me goodnight. I think I can completely identify how a swaddled new born feels so safe when that blanket is wrapped around them. Life was perfect, so why change perfect? When I crawl into bed, I lift myself enough to trap the covers beneath my body on one side and let Hubby trap me in on the other. Life is still perfect and – except for an achy toe – a successful day comes to a close.

Still praying the American Minute at 6 P.M. Only 21 days until the election. Praying for Israel and the UN decision due this week. “Prayer is the vehicle through which we draw down God’s blessings into the world.”~Rabbi Eckstein

1942 Daily Ration: ” ‘I came that they may have life, and that they may have it abundantly.’ ~John 10:10

Read: Mark 1:16-20

“The Christian religion has in it a means of enrichment of personality that no other religion possesses. For it has Jesus and no one among the multitudes who have lived has done so much to develop the possibilities of men. He put his finger on the best that was in people and brought it to life. In him men have seen what they might become. He has inspired the greatest moral and spiritual efforts that men have ever put forth. The beauty of his life has awakened the loftiest ambitions. He has implanted in man that spirit of sacrifice which enlarges life to its farthest bounds. Those who would bring in the Kingdom of God and be made able to battle for it need a standard. ‘That standard,’ says Mr. Graham Wallas, ‘is the cross of Christ: its legend, ‘Follow me.’

“Prayer: Baptize thy Church afresh in the life-giving spirit of Christ. Put upon her lips the ancient gospel of the Lord. Fill her with Christ’s tenderness for the heavy-laden and Christ’s saving mercy to the poor and needy. Amen.


Rations took on new meaning the past couple of days in NC. Due to a leak in the supply chain, gasoline is in short supply. Neighbors are using social media to pass information back and forth on which stations have gas and which ones don’t. While newscasts focus on the expected length of the disruption, and the changes companies are making to re-route and “fix” the shortage.

I pulled out that WWII Ration books that Mom and Dad saved tonight. The covers are well worn with paper so soft it feels almost like cloth. Most of them are empty – just names, dates and tabs where the stickers once were. Dad, Mom and even my Big Brother had their own (I was still just a twinkle in their eyes). In the last one, there were still a couple sheets of stamps. Needless to say, it made me wonder how we would do if we had to ration almost everything in our lives like they did during WWII?

And then I remembered: ‘ ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ ~Mk 12:31

Rationing is never easy. (I know this because I have to ration my money at the end of every month.) BUT – and this is one huge BUT (so to speak) – praying for those waiting in that line at the gas pump, gives us an opportunity to get – and to give – more than just a tank of gas. Even if that underground tank ends up empty before our own car gets a drop of gas, we’ve accomplished something special.

Rationing in our needy society hurts, but it also is a chance to grow in wisdom and faith. As long as we never Ration our prayer blessings towards others – towards our country – or even towards our enemies, we will be blessed beyond measure. It is after all, one of the greatest commandments.

1942 Daily Ration:  Read:  Luke 10:30-37

” ‘Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves? ‘And he said, ‘He that shewed mercy on him.’ Then said Jesus unto him, ‘Go and do thou likewise.’ “~Luke 10:36-37

“In the summer of 1916 there remained in a certain mission station in China a young English missionary whose four brothers were in the British army, then in combat. About a quarter of a mile from the mission station, two German businessmen had recently moved into a Chinese house. They had come there because of the unfriendly atmosphere in the settlement in which they had been living.

“One morning, one of the German men went for a hike into the hills, and failed to return. His friend could not speak Chinese, and was at a loss to know what to do. The news finally reached the English missionary. This young man knew that all the surrounding hills were infested with mines against the expected approach of the army of a rival war lord. Nevertheless, he went in search of the lost man, and did not give up until he recovered the body.

“That night several of the Chinese Christians were discussing the event. ‘Brethren,’ said one of them, ‘our missionary is a good preacher, we are all agreed; but he never has preached, and never will preach, a sermon like the one he has preached today. Though we should forget every word he has ever said, we can never forget this thing he has done. He has made the gospel live before us.’

“Prayer: Lord, teach us to love and to minister to the needs of all mankind, no matter how they may differ from us or with us. So may we prove that we are thy disciples. Amen.”


Long ago when my husband and I first got married, we decided we would always celebrate the wonder of the day with a pig roast on Memorial Day weekend. Our daughter carries on her own version of this by having a Labor Day cook out in NC.

Traditions have a way of tying generations together. As old traditions morph into variations of the old, the essence of the family love remains at its heart and grows larger and more encompassing as it mixes new knowledge and excitement with the wisdom and joy of the old world.

As I finished making potluck cookies for my daughter’s get-together, I read today’s Ration. Amazing, how the wisdom of the ages never truly ‘ages’. It continues to speak as loudly to me as it did to my dad in 1945. I copied this statement to hang in my war room. It is the wisdom of the ages that still speaks to me today: “The world can be transformed only by those who have the courage of their conviction, who try always and everywhere to do the Christian thing irrespective of what others are doing and regardless of cost.”

1942 Daily Ration:

“And so Pilate, willing to content the people, released Barabbas unto them, and delivered Jesus, when he had scourged him, to be crucified.”~Mk 15:15

It is very disquieting to realize that the paramount factor determining Pilate’s decision to release Barabbas and condemn Christ was that commonplace motive which operates in our experience constantly: ‘the desire to content the people’. Pilate’s conduct was prompted, not by the dictates of his conscience but by the demands of the crowd.

“The disposition to please and conform to crowd constitutes the most subtle and powerful temptation confronting many Christians today. The slogan’Everybody’s doing it,’ exercises a strong psychological appeal Most of us have a natural reluctance to be different for fear we will be considered queer. The phrase, ‘crowd morality,’ suggests those conventional standards which are generally acceptable but which are far below the exalted ideals of Christ…

“It is extremely sobering to reflect hat the disposition to put popularity above principle did to Christ. It should help us, when we are tempted, to visualize the Master on his cross and to refuse to yield. The world can be transformed only by those who have the courage of their conviction, who try always and everywhere to do the Christian thing irrespective of what others are doing and regardless of cost.

“Prayer: Eternal God, implant inn us the fortitude to do right no matter what others may thing say or do. We ask it in Christ’s name. Amen.”



The past couple of days have been filled with some teary nights. In fact the past week has been filled with some sporatic outbursts – here and there. This normally would not be a good thing, but this week has been different. It has been as if My Father has been lighting candles on the menorah within me for each day of Chanukah. And – – – as my dad said so many years ago, “…most of that light comes through the children.”

“Show yourself in all respects to be a model of good works, and in your teaching show integrity, dignity, and sound speech that cannot be condemned, so that an opponent may be put to shame, having nothing evil to say about us.”~Titus 2:78

This past week several of my former students have shared their memories with me about our times together. The candle they lit in this fogginess of our housing dilemma has been a blessing. A gentle light just bright enough to see the next step, trusting in a path I can not see clearly enough for myself without their gift.
“You then who teach others, do you not teach yourself?”~Rm 2:22a
The last candle of Chanukah was lit today. Since it is also the last week before Christmas break, not many students had homework, so only my 8th graders needed some time. Got to admit, it is still my favorite age group to teach. Grown-up enough for serious conversations and yet, even the most “hardened” ones still have dreams in their eyes.
Work was finished quickly, and we spent most of the time talking. Talking about books (they had just finished the Giver). Singing a Chanukah song from a child of a mixed linage (she learned it so that she could get her Chanukah gifts) while we shared a cookie she brought as a gift. Listening about the drama of the latest cheer competition. Laughing about music notes that the trumpet player could play but not name.
Wow – I have missed these types of encounters with my students, so my candle burned just a little brighter with joy.
Being a teacher is never easy. Low pay, Lengthy in-services. Long hours. Life hazards. (Believe me – between projectile vomiting, jumping bugs, germs, angry encounters (luckily for me – only a few – yes indeed – teaching can be hazardous). Most of us chose this job for one reason or another – not knowing what all it entailed. Yet – there is One who knew all of the bad stuff that went with the job description and still volunteered.Yeshua teaching
“You call me Teacher and Lord, and you are right, for so I am”~Jn 13:13
I have thought about these teaching verses in the WORD often during my career. Each one providing a little more light on the kind of teacher I wanted to be. While I did have some wonderful teachers that served as role models for me, it was a small town Rabbi that truly held me captive in the way He taught.
“Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher come from God, for no one can do these signs that you do unless God is with him.”~Jn 3:2b
Those verses and a few others have kept me striving to try harder, to search longer, to pray constantly. As I listened this week to Syrian Christians express their willingness to die for this teacher,I pondered these verses again.
  • Can I not try a little harder?
  • Give a little more?
  • Pray a little more often?
I am broken once again in the simpleness of the story.  A man born long ago. Humble beginnings in a cold stable and surrounded by animals and excrement. Swaddling clothes instead of a ton of onesies and a multiple outfits.
A single candle lighting the darkness. A rabbi who walked with his students A teacher willing to sacrifice all for those who followed in His steps. A professor who waits to see if we have the courage to seek His wisdom and follow His steps into the unknown.
“Teacher, we know that you are true and do not care about anyone’s opinion. For you are not swayed by appearances, but truly teach the way of God”~Mk 12:14
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