Devotion 316 - moments

He had to go ahead and say it,  the preacher; he had to read the Bible, that’s what preachers do.... 

Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know that we who teach will be judged more strictly.  James 3:1

As I sat listening during Wednesday evening Bible study, I reminded myself I only teach preschool Sunday school.  It was this last Sunday when a little guy in my class said something that just tore at my heart.  

He talked about some changes in his family.  He seemed scared and a little worried.  I remembered tearing up.  I remembered offering to pray, but I also remembered the inadequacy – I wanted words that would take it all away,  forgetting I suppose again, it never goes all away, it is the Holy Spirit that gives us new eyes to see. 

I wonder when I taught about Valentine’s Day what love is to these children? 

 I worry if I brought a Hallmark holiday into my preschool classroom would that somehow take away the Holy?

A mama in our Bible class, a mama I admire, 

profoundly said  “we are all teachers.”  

I cannot tell you this made me comfortable.  The squirming in my spirit continued.  She is right.  Mamas and Daddies are teachers.  Friends are teachers.  Employers are teachers.  If we are willing to wear the cloak of righteousness, we teach every single day, every moment.

I thought about my kids.  We had been late for dinner before church, trying to squeeze in  a bit more homework.   My husband has been unwell.  I don’t mother as well when his hands cannot hold mine.

Then the race to Bible study and their Wednesday night classes. 

The race.  The desire to reach a destination.  

It is my life...the race. I am not sure I feel the ground under me or see the sky about me. 

We count down to Christmas.  The chalkboard in the kitchen was now counting down to Valentine’s Day.  I had already promised my baby daughter after Valentines we will count down to her March birthday.

What of counting up I wonder?
What if I start counting how many more days I have to teach, to love and to hold these children?

I have one son in college; I have yet to receive a diploma for mothering him.  No,  the journey goes on.  I write him notes almost every day.  I text him encouragement.  I pray with more wild abandon than I knew I could ever muster, because I don’t tuck him in at night and make sure he says his prayers.

What if I don’t count days... but moments?

The moment in the car when we left Wednesday night church, my little one held a bag in her hand filled with candy.  I was not the only teacher who had mentioned Valentine’s Day and I exhaled.  

I didn't rush home.  I was trying to reach my husband by phone to tell him we needed to stop off at the store to purchase treats for Valentines parties.  

The race again began.

I put the phone down knowing bedtime would be late and hoping homework would be done.  My little daughter delighted with her treats began to tell me what she wanted.  Although I could not see her in the dark of the car I could envision one chocolate heart in her mouth and asking for two. 

Instead she said, “Mama I want a valentine from Jesus!”

"A valentine" I queried?  “Do you love Jesus?” I asked.

I asked her older sister if she was shaking her head yes as the car had gone quiet and the air still.  I then asked if she wanted to pray for Jesus to come into her heart.

She did and she prayed, and for a moment being a teacher seemed like the most extraordinary thing in this world. I needed to get to the store but my daughter needed to know that Jesus was hers to love and cherish.  

In a moment Beloved, everything changed.

The anxiety I felt sitting in that Bible study melted into gratitude.

I had new eyes to see.  

I, we, all of us are inadequate.  

All of us need hands to hold, hands to guide, hands to point.

He doesn't just show up at the destination Beloved although He will be most radiantly there.  He is there in the moments. 

He is the foundation in the race, the air that we exhale, the breath that we take.  He is the substance that make the moments bearable and much so much more than that, he takes the unbearable and makes it beautiful.

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”  CS Lewis