My Room

     My room sits quietly, expectantly. Those with exceptional hearing might detect the near silent hum of the wall clock. New posters adorn the walls. The desks and chairs await occupants in a familiar “U.” Textbooks sit in neat stacks on the back table ready for stuffing into backpacks. My desk stands, neatly arranged for the last time until next summer. A soon to be replaced calm drifts with the dust motes in the slanting Sunday afternoon light. In a few short hours all will change. Students will pour out of cars into the halls; eventually spilling into my room bringing excitement, angst, and a certain amount of chaos. But for now, we all hold our breath in anticipation. Soon the clock will be off and running. The year will unfold like the rich maroon hibiscus in my backyard, gradually revealing intricate beauty. I wonder, how will things turn out for me and my kids?

     During the summer teachers prepare. I look at the list of things I intended to do and see far too many items still waiting action. Books I planned on reading still gather dust on the end-table. Lesson plans remain half-formed, needing fleshing out. The all-important sub-folder contains last year’s information. I did not complete these tasks and many others during the summer hiatus. In short, I’m not quite ready. Like my students, I look at Monday with a little dread. How will this all work out? What will my students think? Some, those I’ve had before, know what to expect. I spoke with a parent who told me their child was greatly relieved to find out that they were in my class again. I expected to hear about how I made history come alive or how my lectures and projects were great fun. Instead, she said, “Susie (not her real name) likes your class because she knows how you think and what she needs to do to make a good grade and does not want to learn another teacher.” Students view the world differently than teachers; however, we all share an interest in how the year will unfold.

     How will I make up the gap between what I intended and what I completed? If I let my mind wander, undirected, it will forage amidst the brambles of doubt, uncertainty, worry, and fear. Unfortunately it knows those paths all too well, as it has trod them frequently. Fretting does not do anyone any good. The last thing my students need is a worried teacher on the first day of school. Worry, the mental wringing of hands, wastes time and energy. Fear, the little hobgoblin that gibbers away in the dark corners of the mind, creates nothing; only consuming mental resources. So what is a teacher to do?

     I can put on a good face; the mental facade which hides inner anxiety. Unfortunately pretending all is well does not prepare me for challenges. Without necessary mental resources small events rapidly spiral out of control into unnecessary crises; calamities which erode student trust in their teacher. While a calm exterior in the face of classroom mishaps averts disaster, it must be based on a fortitude borne out of inner strength. So where does this well-spring of power come from?

     Paul tells us in Ephesians 3:20, “20 Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, 21 to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.” Paul the shipwrecked, beaten with rods, stoned and left for dead, penned those words. So often I see only those things that I know with my physical senses. Paul tells me that God can do more than I can imagine.

     More than I can imagine, I let that phrase roll around my mind for a while, savoring the possibilities. As a geeky, scify, signal officer, information operator, I can imagine a lot. Often in those few brief moments I lie awake in the dark, listening to the fan hum, I let my mind soar into realms of fancy. In my imagination complete worlds exist with all manner of possibilities. As one who imagines himself a writer, I see things not as they are, but as I want them to be. When I watch movies drawn from books that I’ve read, I leave disappointed. No budget supports the rich tapestry of colors and textures my inner director stages. At the age of 54 my imagination is one of the most exercised and developed portion of my brain. Yet, Paul, in very clear language, reminds me that the three pounds of gray matter between my ears does not hold a candle to God’s creative genius.

     God see possibilities that I have never even thought of. He looks out into my chaos and sees wondrous things, beautiful things, powerful things. God thinks on levels that would blow my mind. Where I see a lack of time, He views some sort of blessing that I have never conceived. I cannot even form the thoughts needed to properly ask for what He plans. In Isaiah 55:7-9 God reminds me that His thoughts are not my thoughts and His ways are much higher than my ways. And to top it all off, He often shapes His thoughts in ways that not only astound me, they benefit me! So, as I gaze upon the list of things left undone, I need not worry or fret. God shows up in my weakness. He will do things that I have not thought of. Now that will make a class and school year worth attending.