Saturday, March 03, 2007

Written on Thursday, March 1, 2007...

It was a year ago today that he died. He was outside on the field, teaching P.E., when suddenly he collapsed. A heart attack. An unexpected death. And the innocent eyes of children standing by, watching, knowing they will never forget the day that their teacher, Mr. Stauffer, died.

As I sat down to finish reading the book Walk Two Moons with the 6th graders, I was a little nervous about the ending. I remember spending a weekend in college reading this book, barely able to put it down, choked with tears at the end of the story when the main character realizes her mother is dead and her grandmother dies shortly thereafter (sorry if you haven’t read it and were planning on it...). Reading this part of the story out loud, I managed to maintain my composure as best I could. But there was an eerie silence when I finished the story, and then I remembered that a year ago these students had tasted death, many for the first time. I looked across at the beautiful eyes gazing up at me, many starting to turn puffy and red.

It was time for lunch, so I told my class that if any wanted to stay in the classroom and cry or think or pray or whatever, that they were welcome to. I took the rest of the class to lunch and came back to the sniffling sounds of every girl in my class but one. I got them some tissue, and we all sat on the rug in my classroom together. We just sat there. They cried, they sniffed, I cried a little, and we soaked in the silence of sorrow, knowing that there were no words. What mattered was that we were together. I kept praying, asking the Lord for the right words to say, if there were any. And I felt strongly that it was important for all of them to sit. To sit and cry. The Native people in Alaska will often sit together for hours and never speak a word, and I felt this was one of those times where being together was what we needed to do.

Eventually the girls were able to choke down the sobs and talk a little. I read Psalm 116 to them, emphasizing verse 15 where it says, “Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints”. I was so thankful the Lord brought me to this Psalm last week. It was as if this was the moment for which the Psalm was written. So we talked about heaven and eternity and people and God and all those other things that somehow we never get to in our academics. And when it was time for recess, they all wanted to stay.

Sometimes when I wake up in the morning, I’m not sure exactly what I’m doing. In my mind, I am thinking about the lessons I will teach and how much I will get accomplished on my breaks. It’s like a game. How many tasks can I get done, and will I go home tonight with no papers to grade? It’s a fast-paced job, and every minute is filled. God tries to remind me of the opportunities I have with people, the students that need to see Christ in my life. And I probably put on a pretty good show for them, but do I really care about them, or do I just care about getting my job done? As the Lord tries to remind me, knowing that I can be a little dense, He brings a day like today. A day when I had planned on grading two stacks of papers on my lunch break. And instead I spend it with pre-pubescent girls draining their tear ducts. I did not get my grading done, I was not ready to teach math at 1:00. But what I walked away with was a feeling of deep satisfaction. When I recount the events of my day, I grin from ear to ear because I know that the Lord met me in my busy-ness and that He met these girls in their sorrow, and though not many words were shared, the fellowship was some of the sweetest I have known. I know why I teach, I know why I prepare all these lessons, grade all these papers, discipline these students. It is because I have been seized by the power of a great affection. This affection moves me beyond my tasks and gives me the power to bring others to this same affection. May the Lord give me the strength to do this with my whole heart.

7 comments:

My Middle Name is "Gerous" said...

Beautiful, Daylan. Really beautiful. Thanks for writing that.

Greg and Andrea said...

I agree. You are doing such a wonderful job teaching and loving those kids. I enjoy your blog entries. I read Walk Two Moons years ago and loved it--such a good book.

Daylan said...

Hi cousin! I enjoy yours as well, though I don't always have time to check it. Everytime I do there is so much to catch up on! I hope I get to see the wee ones this summer when I am visiting Oregon. They sound so wonderful.

Daylan said...

woops! how embarrassing. I just posted a comment on my own blog. and now i'm posting another comment to say i didn't mean to post the first one. that was meant for andrea.

KeriAnn said...

Daylan, isn't it wonderful to know that God uses us despite ourselves??? We are not capable of achieving what God requires, but Christ at work in us and our dependance upon Him does more than we could imagine. We are so incapable, but He is faithful! thanks for sharing.

Greg and Andrea said...

Commenting on your own blog is totally acceptable! :)

Kayla said...

hearing it again brings tears to my eyes...good job Miss Arnold...those kids sure do love you..as do I! :)