Another blessing has been sent to the Jones' house. I been sending the Lord my deepest hopes for THE best teacher for Mr. Graham. The kid's only 3 but, man, I tell ya, when it's your baby everything is major. Once I found out that he actually has THE best teacher, it was as if I just found out that he made the varsity football team. He's in. In that room. THE one! With THE teacher! And I have how many years left of wondering if he'll get THE right teacher for him?? And Oliver, too? I'd better have one of those "Lord, it's me again..." conversations tonight....
This all made me think about the kiddos in my own classroom, and God's part in sending me my students each year. This is my 8th class. Times that by over 20 students each year, and you end up with a pretty big bunch of kiddos....kiddos with parents that trusted that I would love, protect, encourage, and of course, teach their children. And then when you start breaking down all of the fine little details of teaching (challenging, motivating, promoting, designing, etc) I really start to realize that I probably owe a lot of parents apologies and I should go ahead and start thanking every teacher that *may* even come in contact with my children.
To any teachers that will shape my sons' lives, make them feel important, help them look at something new, want them to embrace their faults and learn from them, and love on them for who they are, thank you in advance for taking care of my babies. And to THE teacher who will do that for Mr. Graham this year, I already appreciate you more than you know.
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