Five years ago, our building underwent a major remodeling. New wiring for computer systems went in. Walls were painted. New carpet was laid down. New heating/air conditioning units were put in. New ceilings were designed and hung, and air ducts were cleaned. What a difference. This past year, I only had bronchitis once.
Now, at this point, it would be so easy to go off and talk about how the Lord will come in and clean up our hearts, getting rid of the spores of sin. After all, the scriptures do say the “heart is deceitfully wicked”, and the Lord does promise to "remove the heart of stone." But that isn’t where I want to go with this.
As I’ve indicated, my career as an ESOL (English for Speakers of Other Languages) teacher has focused almost entirely on the kindergarten crowd. I’m talking about children who are mostly totally naïve in the English language when they first come to me. The word “naïve” is not a pejorative word as I use it. In the language acquisition field, the word naïve refers to a total lack of fluency or ability in the target language.
In my mode of teaching, I view any event/situation as a teachable moment. Any opportunity to practice a skill is a good time, in my opinion. So I’ve done some unusual things as I taught.
For example, with the high mold spore/dust count in the building, I would often get into bouts of sneezing. True, many times I’d sneeze once and that was it.

But on other occasions, I’d sneeze anywhere between five and ten times, and nothing I could do would interrupt it. Blowing my nose did no good. Holding my breath didn’t help. Pressing my finger under my nose was of no value. I learned to let it run its course. And, since learning numbers and to count was on my list of things to teach, the students and I would count sneezes. “That’s two,...That’s three,...That’s four,...” and so on until the sneezing stopped.
Towards the end of my second full year, I had a sneezing fit that reached six in the class I met with right after lunch. After we had counted to six, I moved right back into what I’d planned on doing that day. I gave no more thought to the sneezing.
The next day I finished my lunch early; so I loaded my teacher’s cart with the necessary things and moved it to the hallway outside this particular classroom. I came from a direction from which the children could not see me. The hall was carpeted, so they didn’t hear me come, although the classroom door was open. There was no way for them to know I was out there, waiting quietly to come in at 1:15. And all of the sudden I sneezed. Didn’t even get a chance to cover it! And from the now quiet classroom came the sweet little voice of a five year old girl with deep, dark eyes, “That’s seven!”

They watch us so closely and take to heart what we teach them, these children we work with. Even the most innocuous moments are being observed. Like the people used to watch Christ, perhaps. That is why it is SO important to truly reflect Christ’s character all the time. If I’m the only Christ some of these children see, what will they think of Him? Lord, forgive me of the times I’ve misrepresented Him. And thanks to the Lord for the opportunities I’ve been able to take advantage of to show a little of His character. What joy there is to see the light dawn in receptive eyes!

Now, where did I put that box of tissues?
Dr. G

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