Four years worth of classes and I have a degree.
Early childhood development.
I spent many hours working on projects late into the night.
I cut out many patterns.
I colored many animals.
I made plenty of play-dough and silly putty.
I made musical instruments for music time.
My creative juices flowed during those four years.
And then I left America because I didn’t want to get a job doing that everyday.
Enter Swaziland.
Where I spend my days with preschoolers.
We color.
We play on the soccer field during break.
We write the alphabet and numbers.
We put puzzles together.
We read books as a class.
Over and over and over.
Really God?
I left America because I didn’t want to spend my day in a classroom.
For a week I had plenty of conversations with God about this.
I would ask him in the morning for him to just help me make it through the day.
To love those babies not with my love but with his.
To have patience that comes only from him.
To have physical strength to swing the children around and have tickle fights.
Every morning I would ask for these things
And still for a week I despised going to the preschool in the mornings.
I walked in the doors, got the job done and left
Disconnected from everything.
But I wasn’t pleased with how things were going.
So Friday morning I stood outside the door
Lifted my arm in the air
And said, “Let’s do this thing. We’re more than conquerors!”
And into the classroom I charged
Determined that the day would be different.
The kids would not crawl under the tables.
They would not hit each other.
They would write the alphabet without running around the room after every few letters.
Big aspirations I had for the day.
I walked in the door, greeted the teacher and said good morning to the class.
And I sat down at the table with my three boys.
The teacher passed out the dreaded notebooks.
And this is when everything took a dramatic turn.
Two of the boys had finished their old notebooks.
These were new!
Fresh books to start new in.
The excitement on the boys’ faces were priceless.
Who would have known new books would bring so much joy?
Thanks Jesus for the small victory!
With names written on the books it was time to write.
I was prepared for the dreaded part of the day to begin.
But what’s that?
I hear quiet singing.
I see three boys writing in their notebooks.
Wait, what is happening?
You three are supposed to be yelling at the top of your lungs and crawling around on the floor.
But that’s not what is happening at all.
It’s like I’ve traded the three stooges for three angels.
This is just weird.
This is the moment I’ve been praying about since I came to Swaziland.
Jesus, you heard me!
And you answered!
Thank you for always hearing me
And just like a perfect father answering when I need it not when I want it.
I left America to escape the daily preschool life.
And now there is nothing else I would rather be doing in Swaziland.
6/24/12
