A Salute to Teachers

Not many of you should become teachers, my fellow believers, because you know we who teach will be judged more strictly (James 3:1).

James is talking about spiritual teachers here, but his statement rings true, too, for teachers in general, I think. Since we are nearing the end of the school year, it feels right to give our teachers a little love.

Teaching is hard, y’all. James wasn’t kidding when he warned believers about becoming teachers. It’s kind of like riding some crazy rollercoaster only to realize, mid spin, that the track has totally disappeared and you are no longer buckled. Oh, yeah - and you are responsible for everyone else on the ride.

Giddyup.

I had no plans to go into teaching. I was going to be a city manager or something fancy like that (If you are a city manager, try not to laugh too hard).

Instead, God called me to teaching. That’s exactly what teaching is for me. It’s a calling. It’s fulfilling and challenging in wonderful ways. There is just nothing better than helping students. Yes, we teach them whatever our subject matter is, and that is fun. But it’s the other stuff that really matters. It’s being the person who really sees them, who they come to when something big has happened. Or, it’s helping them see their own worth or the worth of others. Teaching is also showing them they can trust their own judgment, take risks, and handle mistakes with grace.

It’s no secret teachers had a tough time when COVID-19 hit. All of a sudden, they had to pivot and become expert online teachers in a matter of days. They taught in-person and remote classes at the same time while also navigating protecting their own health and the health of their students. They were rockstars.

I’ve heard from many, though, that this year has been surprisingly difficult in a different way. Yes, students have had learning gaps, but that’s really nothing new to teachers. The resounding concern I’ve heard from them is the emotional toll these years of the pandemic have had on kids. Carrying school pressures on top of everything else they’ve been through is just too much.

When your bucket is already full, it only takes one drop to make it overflow - and students' emotional buckets are overflowing.

Guess who has been there with sponges in hand ready to mop up the spill? Yep… teachers.

Pile on ever-changing legislation on what they should and shouldn’t be teaching and the public vilification that goes with any political battle, and it has been…well, a lot.

I’ve been thinking about what teachers need to hear right now; what do I need to hear right now?

Maybe it is, as Matthew says in chapter 28, verse 20, “Surely, I am with you always, even to the very end of the age.” Jesus is with us, teachers. He is with us and nothing can ever separate us from Him and His love for us.

Maybe it’s also that no matter the hardship, we are “more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Romans 8:37). Through His love, we will finish well.

Or, maybe it’s the promise of rest and rejuvenation that goes beyond what summer break can offer. It’s promised in Isaiah 40: 31, “But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not grow faint.”

Most of all, right now, I need to know Jesus can still use me in my weakness because I would never want my shortcomings or fatigue to cause me to fail my students. Because He is so, so good, he promises that, too. He tells us, “My grace is sufficient for you, my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9).

Rest assured teachers and anyone working with students right now, you do not have to make it to the finish line on your own. Jesus is there with you. He will sustain you now and always.

So, today, I pray for our teachers.

You are almost there. A few more weeks. A few more days. A few more hours. One more minute. You can make it.

This year has been a hundred lifetimes and mere moments. I don’t know how it can be both. Maybe there is a special teacher dimension that makes it so. I blame the physics teachers.

Perhaps they broke something in a final bid for the attention of a class too tired to math.

Yes. I just made math a verb.

I am an English teacher. If Shakespeare can do it, so can I.

Yes. I just put myself on equal footing with Shakespeare. It is May. Let me have my delusions.

In this year of lifetimes and moments, you have given what you have to give; more, probably. You have taught what you’ve felt needed to be taught. I know this, even if the politicians don’t.

You’ve seen things this year. It has been fragmented and weird because it was supposed to be “normal,” but you know things are not normal for your kids. Somehow this year of “back to normal” has been so much harder for them, for you…for all of us.

But still you came. You showed up. You were there with a smile, hug, and kind word.

You called them by name.

You saw them…really saw them.

You cheered for them, sat beside them, listened to them, and advised them.

You gave them, each of them, a bit of yourself.

Like in Rainbow Fish, each one carries a bit of your iridescence.

That makes you feel glad and dim all at once.

Because that’s what teaching is.

It is everything all at once.

Every emotion

objective

failure

success

monumental event

tiny moment

policy change

paperwork

restroom break

evaluation

decision

exhilaration

exhaustion

paper waiting to be graded or thrown away

all at once.

Except in May.

In May, it’s all those things, all at once, upside down, and inside out.

But I pray even in crazy May, God will renew your strength and fill you with joy. May the God of peace give you enough in your tank to conquer these last miles and inches you have to go with your students. May these days be the BEST days. In this time, I pray He will let you see, even if but a tiny glimpse, the eternal impact you’ve made on each student in your room.

From one teacher to another, thank you.

Thank you for fighting the good fight and not giving up.

Thank you for putting kids first and dedicating your life, very much in God’s service, to these precious babies and almost adults.

I pray God will be near you this day and every day you have left with your students, whom you now love like family…who will always be family.

We’ve got this, teachers!