The Unseen Work of a Teacher

A few years ago I heard a call-in radio show honoring teachers. A Michigan man with a slight Arab accent told a story I can’t forget.

In the 1970s, when he was in elementary, his family moved from Iraq to Michigan.

Can. You. Imagine?

One day at school his teacher had pulled down the world map at the front of the classroom and explained the rules for a geography game.

The students would come in pairs to the front of the classroom and stand with their backs to the map and faces towards their classmates. The teacher would announce a capitol city, and both students would whip around and point to the correct location on the map. The first one with their finger on the correct place won.

Having been in the United States for less than a year the young boy knew he would lose. When it was his turn, he planned to turn and point to the exact same place his competitor was pointing. And even if they were both wrong, at least they’d be wrong together.

When it was his turn, he and his competitor waited with backs toward the map. The teacher gave the location: “Baghdad, Iraq.”

He knew exactly where to point.

I have a long list of questions for that teacher.

When did she decide to demonstrate that variety of kindness? Did it just occur to her? Did she plan for it?

Did she have to check out the “I” volume of the Encyclopedia Britannica from the elementary library to find Baghdad? (In the ‘70s she certainly didn’t Google it!)

Did she double check to see where it was marked on her world map while the students were at recess? 

Did she hand pick the boy’s competitor—an exceptionally gracious child who would understand her method? A particularly intelligent student who might have a chance of knowing? An emotionally mature student who wouldn’t be embarrassed at not knowing?

This is the unseen work of a teacher. 

It goes unnoticed by everyone except the student who was forever impacted. But on occasion, long after the teacher has retired, the grown-up student takes the opportunity to recount his story. This one just happened to be on a national radio show.

It wasn’t until I worked nearly 20 weeks as a substitute teacher that I gained a jarring appreciation of what truly goes on in a classroom.

On the surface there are the subjects that get all the press: Standardized testing. Educational benchmarks. Curriculum.

If we don’t take a closer look we might be tempted to think the only thing happening inside those cinderblock walls is a sterile approach to cognitive development. 

No one will argue that reading, writing and ‘rithmetic, (though no longer taught to the tune of a hickory stick), are foundational. But I have seen teachers researching, learning, and sometimes flying by the seat of their pants to implement ideas that go far beyond facts, figures and vocabulary. 

Their efforts are often unnoticed, but they are aimed at the reason for education: the students. 

For the perfectionistic student who is extremely sensitive even to constructive criticism, a teacher explains that criticism does not mean failure. Instead it is evidence of learning, and that is exactly what school is for. This is the unseen work of the teacher.

For the passive student who cannot articulate his needs, a teacher encourages him to find his voice. “Use your words,” she will say. She equips him with a simple script to help him give words to his wishes. This is the unseen work of a teacher.

For the unmotivated student, a teacher draws a hard line to help the student learn to discover answers. And as a token of thanks, the student stomps back to the desk and slams the book closed. This is the unseen work of a teacher.

For the new student, the teacher accounts for what has previously been taken for granted. She describes localities such as the “Discovery Center.” She realizes a student from Georgia may not yet know that Sioux Falls is east and Rapid City is west. An international student may sing a rousing rendition of “God Save the Queen” or “O Canada” but may need help learning the lyrics and meaning of “The Star Spangled Banner.” This is the unseen work of a teacher.

And for each of these unnoticed efforts there is no standardized test. There are no bonuses based on scoring. The test, the answer, and the reward are as unique as the individual. The test comes every day for the rest of the student’s life. Sometimes the students get it right, sometimes they get it wrong. And the occasional bonus for such unseen work comes from the student: A priceless hug, the evidence of effort, a diploma.

Teachers, we appreciate you. For the work that is seen and scored and paid for, but also for that which is rarely seen, measured, or rewarded. Thanks for doing the unseen work of teaching.

                                         **************


May 4-8 is Teacher Appreciation week. If you have a chance, tell a teacher you appreciate all their work. Even the work that goes unnoticed.

I've written about ways to salute a teacher here, and I made a few more suggestions on how to do that here.

Would you take a minute to add your suggestion to the comments here on the blog or on facebook?

What’s the best way to show teachers our appreciation?
Teachers, what’s the best or most memorable gift of appreciation you've received?

Are We Better When We're Serving?

Last weekend we had the privilege of caring for two foster children ages one and two. 

 

It wasn’t our first time doing foster care, but it was our first in quite a while. 

 

Before we committed to an overnight placement, Kurt and I wanted to make sure the whole family was in. “If we are going to do this,” I said, “Then we are going to serve these little ones as a family.” 

 

Everyone agreed, but we didn’t give much thought to the implications of prioritizing others. (No, we’re not having friends over. No, you can’t turn on the TV while they’re napping.)

 

When the little ones arrived we were giggly over their tiny words, chunky hands, and quick smiles. I encouraged the boys to be calm and not over eager with all manner of baby toys which they’d dredged up from the depths of the toy box. And with a little coaxing, they warmed up to us fairly well. 

Over the next 24 hours I saw my boys reading books to them, letting the toddler direct the page turning. Together they facilitated the mass collection of pinecones. Inside the house, one of them cut up bananas on the high chair tray. And though I can still hardly believe it, they cooked lunch on Saturday while I was outside strolling a fussy one. What was on the menu, you ask? Well, we had no macaroni noodles, so it was spaghetti and cheese…with oranges on the side. It was a hit. Kraft ought to be taking notes.

 

The regular sibling bickering was replaced by kind questions: Do you want an orange? Can I peel it for you? Do you like bananas? Can I pass out more goldfish? Which book do you want? Did you find a pinecone?

 

Even my parental barking was muzzled and I calmly asked, Can you help with her shoes? Will you carry him while I switch the laundry? Will you fill a sippy cup?

 

And it was all so blissful that I thought, “Wow. We are better when we’re serving.” 

 

And then the little ones went back home. 

 

We woke Sunday morning and the bickering and barking erupted with volcano-like force. It was like a painful episode of Supernanny, only Nanny Jo Frost must have missed her connecting flight from England, and we had to slog though it on our own. 

 

And I found out we aren’t all better.

 

I’ve been trying to make some profound biblical application, but I’ve only been able to list four things I know for certain:

 

·  We are all insufferably bent toward selfishness. Apparently we can only “deny ourselves” for so long. In this case, about 12 waking hours.

·  Serving in this capacity changes us temporarily and externally: We temporarily practiced how Christ wants us to live—preferring others, speaking kindly, and giving generously. According to Malcolm Gladwell it takes 10,000 hours of practice to master anything. On the bright side, we’re down to 9,988! To put it bluntly, we need more practice so the changes become more than temporary and sporadic.

 

·  Serving others has changed us permanently and internally: Our boys know there are children living in constant transition and “warming up” mode because decisions have been made for them that have ongoing consequence. And I could write a book about ways God has changed my heart through foster care. Suffice it to say I sometimes wonder if service to “the least of these” (as Jesus referred to the needy in Matthew 25:40) is more about changing my heart than changing their circumstances. Thankfully, God’s mercy and grace can accomplish both.

 

·  There are alternating seasons for intense service and rest. This is not to say I retreat to my hovel of self-indulgence. But certainly there are good reasons to rest between intense seasons of service. Jesus did. He slept on a boat ride, retreated to a mountain to pray, and allowed angels to minister to Him. Who are we to think we need less?

 

So I guess I’m not sure if we’re really better when we’re serving. But I know this for sure, Christ can change us when we do.

An Easter Ballad

I can trace my love of imaginative, biblical narrative round and round the grooves of an LP 33 speed record album.

Maybe you don’t remember, but a record album (pronounced rek-erd al-buh-m) was invented and in popular use shortly after the invention of the wheel and hieroglyphics.

In the late 70s my parents bought an advanced piece of music technology. A stereo.

This miracle of musical machinery was ensconced behind glass doors to reiterate the fact that all the blinking knobs and dancing decibel lights were off limits to three wide-eyed children. 

Photo Credit: Daniele Nicolucci

Half the fun of the stereo was the delicate show on the turn table. The shiny vinyl balanced on the spindle, spun, wobbled, and finally dropped onto the record player.

But perhaps the most impressive feature was the set of speakers. They were protected by a distinctively smelling squishy foam, and at four feet high they were taller than me.

My sister and I would lay on the floor in front of those gigantic speakers with one ear pressed into the foam and wait for our favorite Easter song on our favorite record album.

As the crackling needle whispered, we prepared to be transported by the voice of Don Francisco to a first century scene. And there, in our mind's eye, we saw the grieving apostle Peter.

Perhaps you think that’s a bit strange.

Your favorite song was about the grieving apostle? Not exactly. It’s just that we knew it didn't end there. The crescendo of the finale was coming, but it always started with a sorrowful Peter.

After contributing to the horrors of the crucifixion, Peter was terrified of arrest and crippled with shame. And so he begins his story. Take a listen:

 (Link to song here)

(Lyrics are here if you'd like to read instead.) 

All year long, Don Francisco, my sister, and I would belt it out together: "He’s Alive!!! He's alive, and I'm forgiven!"

Interestingly, this song was the longest-running chart single in the history of Christian radio.

What makes it so good? Why was it our favorite? Why do I always cry?

I think the answer, at least in part, lies in the lyric, "Everything I'd promised Him just added to my shame." 

What had Peter promised?

When Jesus warned His 12 friends that they would all bail on Him, they each, including Peter, said, "Surely you don't mean me?"

Then, as if to shore up his devotion, Peter pumped his fist into the air declaring, "Lord, even if all fall away on account of you, I will not! Even if I have to die with you I will never disown you!" 

And I'm sure Peter meant it. He wasn't lying to Jesus. Amidst the solemnity of the Passover meal he was earnest. He was ready for heroics!

But he wasn't ready for the humiliation of grace. He was not yet willing to let Jesus die for him.

I think this is why I love the story of Peter and perhaps why so many have loved Don Francisco's ballad. It is a portrait of God's grace given even to those who've tried to "do it right" and heroically.

I have promised Jesus big and small acts of faith in earnest: Lenten sacrifice, Christmas generosity, and everyday devotion. But everything I've promised points to the fact that I can't even keep my own promises.

I fudge on the sacrifice. I'm cautious in generosity. I fall short of goals I was certain I could accomplish. How much more have I fallen short of a Christ-like generosity and sacrifice?

When we recognize our ineptitude to perfectly carry out our tiny acts of goodness, then we are finally able to receive what Christ offers: His death instead of yours. His perfect life credited to you. In the words of Martin Luther, "The Great Exchange" where Jesus is the hero.  

To "celebrate" Christ's death on Good Friday may seem cryptic or harsh.  But we know what Peter didn't. Saturday is the grand crescendo and Sunday morning is the celebratory finale.

Happy Easter, Friends.

He's still alive, and we can be forgiven.


 

Can’t get enough of Don Francisco? Me either. Here is another favorite story-in-song:

Gotta Tell Somebody

A more recent Easter song:

Christ is Risen

I dusted off some vinyl and rediscovered these favorites:

The Easter Song

Was it a Morning Like This?

 

What's your favorite Easter song? I'll add it to my play list!

Gifts for your Guests

It’s about this time each year that our vitamin D levels reach annual lows, and we start aching for sunshine. As the mercury peeks over the 50 degree mark I’m itchin’ to start grillin’ with friends!! After six months of winter we need the friendship, the outside perspective, and the laughs that come with hosting friends.

But sometimes it’s hard to feel like the hostess-with-the-mostest when the house has been so…lived in…all winter. May I suggest we rebel against that notion, and consider a few simple gifts we can offer our friends and ourselves.

Gift 1: Sooner Rather Than Later

Photo by David Pickett, License

I’ve been haunted by the words, “Let’s get together soon!” I’ve either offered them or nodded in hearty agreement. But ‘soon’ becomes ‘sometime’ becomes ‘sorry-to-hear-you’re-moving’. Be brave and ask your friends, “How about tonight?”

Gift 2: Simplicity

When your friends answer affirmatively, breathe slowly and repeat these three words: Three. Ingredient. Menu.

·         Popcorn, butter, salt.

·         Graham crackers, chocolate, marshmallows.

·         Biscuits, butter, honey.

·         Milk, coco mix, marshmallows.

·         Crackers, cheese, pepperoni.

·         Coffee, cream, sugar.

It doesn’t have to be dinner. They probably don’t want to give their kids the “polite-bite” speech either. So agree to after-dinner-snack or dessert. If you’re feeling really brave, free up your evenings with a Saturday morning toast buffet: a stack of toast, butter, cinnamon sugar, peanut butter, jam, hazelnut spread. You probably won’t even need to go shopping!

Gift 3: Spot-Clean Only

With all the time you’ll save not shopping and cooking, your first joyful response may be, “Now I’ll spit-shine the house.”

I used to think hospitality was a house-cleaning performance. When company arrived I had to repress the impulse to twirl in my kitchen, swing my arms toward my gleaming countertop, and sing, “Ta-Da!”

Resist that urge.

I once arrived at a tired friend’s house and was greeted with the words, “I didn’t really clean.” And she hadn’t.

Guess what. I wasn’t worried about my boys leaving toys out, because toys were everywhere. I wasn’t worried about crumbs because the floor hadn’t been swept yet. And because I was so mentally unencumbered, we caught up on ten months of life in two hours.

Gift 4: Shoes On

Since you haven’t swept or vacuumed you won’t mind that your guest’s toddler is vehemently opposed to removing her musical, sparkling, light-up, princess shoes at the door. Slip on your flip-flops and allow your friends to forego the fit and discipline.

Sometimes hospitality means breaking the “rules.”

Gift 5: Solo Cups...and plates.

If napkin rings, dessert forks and chargers do not absolutely energize you, use paper. Insulated cups for cocoa, coffee filters for popcorn, paper plates for everything else. You and your guests will be relieved. No broken dishes, no washing, no filling the dishwasher (it’s probably still full anyway). And you’ll have plenty of time to offer the sixth gift to your guest.

Gift 6: Sitting

Sit down. You don’t have to scurry around the kitchen refilling, washing, and wiping. There were only three ingredients, remember? Clean-up comes later. For now, just sit. Listen. Talk. Enjoy your friends.

Gift 7: Smile

When you’re enjoying yourself you naturally smile. Your genuine smile says, “You are delightful! I’m so thankful you braved my mess, my life, my simple hospitality.”

So when your furniture is overturned for the Nerf Gun Apocalypse, Legos are lodged in the carpet, laundry is oozing from closets, and your cupboards lack anything Pinterest-worthy, instigate a tiny little rebellion. Invite the children to the basement “fort,” close the closet door, pop some popcorn and invite those friends into your lived-in life.

And maybe you will both recognize the greatest gift is the gift of each other.

Disclaimer: I recently ran a couple of these gifts through the test lab, namely “Sooner Rather than Later” and “Spot Clean.” I discovered there may be some embarrassing (but hilarious!) consequences.

A few weeks ago each of my boys invited friends over. Even though we are in the middle of a do-it-yourself sheetrock mess, I reminded myself of the “Sooner Rather than Later” gift, and we invited them anyway.

On the way to our house I started thinking I should try to minimize the trauma of my “Spot-Clean”—which in reality was “Not Clean”—and said to our little guests, “Just so you know, we’re in the middle of some construction, and the house is kind of messy.”

Both kids were so polite and parroted those spectacular words: “Oh! It’s ok. It’s fine. Our house is too…” Wow. My kids have super nice friends. I hope they keep hanging out with us.

When we walked into the house, I heard Levi's sweet friend say, “Wow. I didn’t think it would be this bad.”

Sadly, this is not staged.
As you can see, we are still able to walk between the open tool box and space heater.

So there is an honest confirmation on the state of our house. And I had them over anyway.

I originally thought they could all play outside, but it was terribly cold and windy so I sent them to the basement.

Remember that whole Bingo Tumbler Brain conundrum? It always seems to involve laundry. As they descended the stairs, I spied twelve loads of clean laundry still waiting to be folded since…a while ago. I ran downstairs with the boys and started folding while Levi and Friend played Legos nearby.

Suddenly I heard snickering, and Levi whispered, “She hasn’t even noticed.”

Hmmm…noticed what?

I look up to discover that sometime this week, the mounted bucks hanging on the basement walls have had their antlers decorated with various…ummm…undergarments. And with the cluttered chaos, I had never noticed.

So if you should choose to give these unconventional gifts, be forewarned: your children may be the ones enjoying it most.

Unlikeable Love

Unlikeable love??

At first glance you may be thinking of that pink or red carnation you received from a “secret admirer” in ninth grade. At my high school, an artificially colored pink carnation delivered to your locker on Valentine’s Day meant “I like you.” But a red one…oh my…meant “I love you.”

An affordable expression of affection!

What better way for hormonally charged teenagers to express their feelings than without words and anonymously? (Anonymously in so far as you could trust the student who sold you the carnation to keep your secret!)

That’s the kind of “love” that makes you want to stay home from school. It forces you to keep your eyes on the hallway tiles for fear of that ferocious awkwardness when you happen to make eye contact with the suspected sender.

Does anyone really like that kind of “love?” I doubt it, but it was a great fundraiser for the student group that sponsored it.

There’s another kind of love we don’t really like. It’s called “Unconditional Love.”

I know…I hear you objecting.

Oh, we may think we love that kind of love. And there are certainly aspects we do love!

We love it that parents have unconditional love for their children. We can thank Robert Munsch for his repetitive summation of parental love: “I’ll love you forever. I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be.”

We love it that spouses are to have unconditional love for each other—accepting each other forever. As Jason Mraz’s anthem goes: “I won’t give up on us. Even if the skies get rough. I’m giving you all my love!”

We are especially grateful that God loves his children unconditionally. As emphasized throughout the Bible, God loves every tribe, tongue and nation. Every sickeningly self-righteous sinner and every deplorable criminal.

But there’s the other side of that coin that makes us groan and get nauseated and nervous. Because loving someone without condition means you do what’s best for them regardless of their wants or desires. Their opinion or probable response has no bearing on whether or not you do what is for their good.

When a child’s only desire for every meal and snack is a ring-pop with a side of Fun-Dip, unconditional love cannot allow it. Out of love, the exasperated parent withholds the ring-pop and offers nourishment instead. The child’s desire--“Feed me ring-pops or I will throw an unforgettable tantrum!!”—has no bearing on the parent’s loving decision to do what is best. 

And the child pitches a screaming rebellion because unconditional love is not always what we like.

Unconditional love says to a spouse, “That habit [substitute one of a million vices for “habit”] is lowering your quality of life, destroying your relationships, and you cannot see it.”

And a fight breaks out because who wants to hear that!? As a matter of fact, who wants to say that? I don’t even like telling someone their zipper is down!

Unconditional love isn’t always music to our ears.

God’s unconditional love—His dedication to our good and His glory--is not hampered by our protests to his tough love. “Go and sin no more,” Jesus said. Sometimes (OK, most times) that’s hard, and we don’t like it.

It’s unlikeable love. But it’s also unconditional.

It’s acceptance and pursuit of the beloved mixed with caring confrontation and truth-telling.

It might not be what we like, but it’s the love we most need.

The Resolution I Kept: Year Two

Admittedly, this is a rather ho-hum post. Confirmed as such by my first editor who only tells me the truth about everything I write. His bold and witty truth-telling has saved you from reading some stupid, boring, wordy stuff. And he may not approve of this snoozey post.

But I’m politely ignoring him.

Because of my poor history of keeping New Year’s resolutions I’ve pretty much stopped making any. Except this one: Keep track of books I read.

And when a resolution is kept at all, not to mention for two consecutive years, I think it deserves at least an electronic commemoration in the blogosphere.

So, without further ado, in the order I read them, I present... 

 

Books I Read in 2014

Son of Laughter, Fredrick Beuchner (A strange read for me. Life in the Old Testament was not neat and tidy.)

Die Empty, Todd Henry (Awesome title. Kind of self-help-y, but many ideas for making the most of your life and time.)

Desiring God, John Piper (Not an easy read for me, but an awesome paradigm shift for Christians! So glad I read it.)

Pain, Perplexity and Promotion: A prophetic look at the book ofJob, Bob Sorge (Recommended by my brother, the author draws principles on suffering from the book of Job.)

Beautiful Outlaw, John Eldredge (A bit outside the box, but I really enjoyed his perspective on Jesus.)

Unbroken, Lauren Hillenbrand (BEST BOOK EVER. This is the true story of Olympic runner and WWII POW Louis Zamperini. I could not put it down!! Regarding the movie: I was anxiously awaiting the movie knowing there was NO WAY they could fit the entirety of Louis’s life into two hours. I liked the movie, but it was a "skeleton" presentation of the events. What else could it be? Highlights basically. So 47 days at sea doesn't seem so bad in the movie. And "The Bird" is a violent jerk in the movie, but they do not (and probably cannot in order to appeal to a PG audience) portray his vile, evil, nastiness. Some folks were offended they ended the movie after he returned from war and didn't include his conversion at a Billy Graham crusade. But there was NO WAY his post-war life could have been portrayed well by tacking it on to the end of the movie. It deserves its own movie! The Billy Graham has done just that. Click here to see.)

Seabiscuit (abridged), Lauren Hillenbrand (Had to read more of her work after Unbroken. A well written, interesting, true story, but it couldn’t compare with Unbroken.)

The Old Man and the Sea, Earnest Hemmingway (Read this because I thought I should read a “classic.” Though it feels heretical to say, I did not enjoy it. At all.)

The Greatest Salesman in the World, Og Mandino (Beautifully written tale with much “biblical” advice without being overtly preachy.)

I Need Some Help Here: Hope for When Your Kids Don’t Go According to Plan, by Kathi Lipp (I contributed a small story to this book and enjoyed reading the finished product and blogged about it.)

The Cure for the Perfect Life, Kathi Lipp and Cheri Gregory (Contributed a small story to this book as well and enjoyed observing the “birth” of a book. I blogged about it as well.)

The Ragamuffin Gospel, Brennan Manning (Read this after watching the movie Ragamuffin. I loved the movie about the life and work of Rich Mullins and the book offers much food for thought regarding God’s fierce love.)

Intense Moments with the Savior, Ken Gire (I love everything I’ve read from Ken Gire. This was one in a series where the author retells the Bible stories where Jesus had some intense moments.)

Pearls in the Sand, Tessa Afshar (Fictional account of the biblical Rahab. So-so.)

To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee (Why did I wait so long to read this stellar work?)

In Pursuit, Zeke Pipher (A devotional for sportsmen that I read to my boys. Even though I am not in the “target audience” (ie. sportsmen) I do know a few!)

Touching Wonder, John Blase (Poetic, fictional reflections on the Christmas story. Sixteen beautifully written vignettes. A neat book to read annually during Advent.)

Gods and Kings, Lynn Austin (A fictionalization of the Biblical account of Israel’s surly kings. I liked it and hope the read the next in the series.)

In His Image, Dr. Paul Brand and Phillip Yancey (Amazing insights and allegory between the human body and the body of Christ. I love this book! To be honest, I’m only about half way through, but I thought it deserved a place on the list.)

Do you have any recommendations for me for 2015?

 

Light Shines Through

Earlier this year I blogged about a quote that resonated with me:

“The World Does Not Know Her Name”

And I think it resonated with many of you because of the blessed dichotomy it represents: We can be broken and useful. Uncelebrated and influential.

There is great relief in knowing “broken” and “useful” are not contrary terms when it comes to you and me. We are comforted knowing that anonymity does not preclude influence.

Think of Mary. A teenage wallflower from a dot-on-the-map town.

The world did not know her name.

When Gabriel proclaimed the work God had prepared for her, she was greatly troubled. No one knew better than Mary that she wasn’t influential or celebrated.

She wasn’t even married.

But she was available. “I am the Lord’s servant. May it be to me as you have said.”

Perhaps your circumstances seem flawed. Your heart broken. Your faith fractured.

These are not obstacles for God. They are opportunities for Him to accomplish His work through you. God delights in shining the Light of Christ through the cracks of broken, willing vessels.

Even you and me.

Today I have the privilege of blogging at (in)courage.me. I've written a little piece about how God's Light Shines Through. Click here to join me over there!