Realizing Provision

I go by Miss Kerra, or sometimes “Mom” by accident.

I am the Teacher, the Nagger, the “Jet” in running games (but only because I’m about 16 years older than those I chase), the Comforter, the Reader, the Mopper, the Checker, the Hawk, the Shoe-stealer, the Fun-Extinguisher, the Mean Old Witch, the Eraser, the Encourager, the Forgetter, the Watched, the Ignored, the Respected, the Unheeded, the Enemy, the Hero.

They are the students, the Irresponsible, the Vivacious, the Sad, the Listeners and the Deaf, the Mess-makers, the Writers, the Sneaks, the Shoe-Scatterers, the Fun-Creators, the Innocent, the Scribblers, the Blossoming, the Watchers, the Sweet, the Loud, the Exasperating, the Ridiculous, the Entitled, the Potential-filled, the Loved.

Sometimes they fill me, and then they drain out everything I have and some that I don’t.

Become like them.

Excuse me?

Become like them, or you cannot enter my kingdom.

Whoever you are, I don’t think you know this group of children.

I see it all.

I see these children, whom you just notice for small moments at a time before your attention needs to be directed to a different child. I see what their morning at home has been like. I see their fears. I see their little hearts, the good parts and bad. I see their hunger for attention. I don’t miss the quiet ones who don’t cause a scene.

Oh Lord, in all this teaching, reminding, rebuking, shaping,

May I also come into my classroom with the posture of humbly being taught.

These children have something that I need.

I cannot afford to miss becoming like them.