I teach kindergarten during the school year.  I am currently teaching a five-week pre-k program.  I spend four hours every morning with four and five year olds who have never been to school.  We spend time learning social and academic skills that will make their school transition in August easier for them.  Teaching is my job.  Don’t get me wrong, I truly love all the “my kids”.  “My parents”, AKA my student’s parents, frequently call me on my cell phone at all hours to discuss some pressing issue with me.  Sometimes the pressing issue is just a simple question like, “When is beach day?”  I have even made a house call to put an unruly child to bed!  I love my job and every child that I encounter blesses me in some way. 

Today, one of my tiny students taught me a great big lesson.  I’ll be very original and call my student Jane.  Jane is a foster child.  She has a big heart, loves to be a helper, and craves attention.  Today, Jane was having a hard day.  She must have gone to the restroom at least three times an hour, she shouted out, and simply could not follow directions.  Frankly, she is one of the brightest children in my class and I thought that gently talking to her would solve the problem.  Well, I thought wrong.  The misbehavior continued and finally in the middle of the classes’ favorite song, I told her to sit down because she was not being a good listener and that she could rejoin us after the song was over.  I couldn’t even look at her after that because truly believed that I had just broken her heart.  She quietly sobbed while the other kids laughed and enjoyed the song.  When the song was over, I told her to remember our class rules and join us back on the carpet.  Jane walked to her spot and sat down.  She didn’t say a word to me, but continued to watch my every move.  Without a word, she stood up in the middle of my instruction, walked over to me, buried her face in my side and hugged me.  As I stood there with this precious child holding onto me my only thought was to lean over and hug her and tell her that I loved her and wasn’t upset with her.  She gave me a beautiful smile and silently walked back to her spot on the carpet and sat down. 

As I reflected on my day, I felt so ashamed of something I had done on Sunday.  I have been spending weekends with my terminally ill grandmother and hadn’t been to church since Easter.  I was so excited and needed to be filled with the music and word of God that I didn’t react very well when before the opening song was even finished I was told that my home group should have been in the nursery and there was nobody there.   My eyes filled with tears and I probably stomped out of the sanctuary.  Mmmm….kind of like being put in time out.  I was snippy with the person I was replacing and even snippy when someone else came in and tried to convince me that I needed to go back to the sanctuary.  My husband soon joined me and I sucked it up and got through my nursery time, just like Jane got through her time out

Unlike Jane, I pouted for the rest of the day.  I felt that I had missed out on church.  I felt that I needed that music and sermon and I had been taken away from me.  My husband expressed how much fun he had with the kids and my selfish response was “That was just like work for me.  I spend time with kids everyday.  It was just like my job, but I wasn’t getting paid for it.”  I wasn’t fun to be around that afternoon and my family was probably cheering when I ended up sleeping for most of the afternoon.        

             After my experience with Jane today, I couldn’t believe how I acted.  I did not behave the way I should have.  I had decided that I needed to be in the service, but God obviously had a different plan for me.  Instead of enjoying it, I fought it since it wasn’t my plan.  Now, I think of all of the blessings that those children from the nursery gave me. I was given hugs and smiles that were priceless.  A little girl who was happy to be serving me gave me an endless supply of imaginary tea and food.  I watched a little boy smile as he proudly walked across the room without his walker.  I should have been standing tall also, proudly serving my God!  I was getting paid in the best way and was to selfish to see it.   

            I am so thankful that God can embrace me after I have a hard day.  How many times have I acted out and gone to him for forgiveness?  Each and every time, he wraps his arms around me and tells me that he loves me and he isn’t even angry, just forgiving!  I love my God, my job…and even love nursery duty!