Walk down a hall of memories...

As I see it…
The walk down the hall for the first time flooded my mind of similar long ago trips down almost an identical hall when I was in junior high school. That’s back when we called it, “junior high.” Now days, it’s middle school. You accomplish that my dropping one grade on either end of this awkward-period-in-life spectrum: you go from 7-9 to 6-8. You can decide which is better or how much difference it makes… But there I was, following my younger friend down the hallway to her classroom. Turns out, she attended and graduated from this very Christian school a few years back; now she’s teaching there. I was invited to convey some of what I know about Israel and its geography (complete with maps and pictures). I had 3-one hour sessions each day for two days. Other than being totally “wiped out” at the end of my commitment, nothing outstanding took place. I observed that kids of this age, no matter what the culture, and no matter the change in times or improvement in technology are still pretty much the same. They are caught in the twilight zone of a puberty transition. Bodies, voices and self-confidence factors all go through enormous peaks and valleys. Once in a while a few awkwardness issues occur, but hey, that can happen at any age. It was evident that they enjoyed (if not really loved) their teacher; in turn, she reciprocated the feeling. I can’t remember the last time I observed a teacher who enjoyed with open pleasantness her vocation, her peers and her “kids.” No matter the circumstance or the question, it was treated with graciousness and a smile. Now I want you to know I wasn’t trying to compete with my friend for her student’s affection, but I knew that bribery frequently pays dividends. So, I gave a homework assignment on day one for the next day. (There wasn’t too much grumbling.) But I had made up my mind that no matter the answers to the assignment (open book, open resource, open internet) they would each get a reward. So I stopped at my favorite coffee shop and bought a few dozen donut “holes.” It was an instant success! But just like my donut holes, my impact upon these students only lasted for a moment. For their teacher, though, her discipleship lasted all year long, year after year. It is a great encouragement to my heart to know that Christ’s presence is being manifested in the classroom now days. But no matter the vocation, Jesus still needs to be seen in each of our lives, in each of our experiences.