The Big Stick

School is up and running again and my life is back to it's pre-Christmas superspeedy pace. I think that may be a new word. Superspeedy. I wonder how long before Webster picks it up. ;) School is getting a little easier as I settle into the curriculum and I more and more fill in the gaps 'my way'. The kids are beginning to test better and I am becoming more comfortable. I love the kids more each day, and those who know me well will see that as a possible problem. I don't seem to know how to do things in moderation. When I love, I love BIG. It can be a little all-consuming. Ecclesiastes 9:10 "Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the grave whither thou goest." I told you I take the Bible very literally. A portion of that verse is on my wall in school in big letters. I believe it has been on a wall in every traditional classroom in which I've ever taught except probably when I taught kindergarten. They couldn't read. Yet. But I'm sure I told them. If God gives you something to do, give it all you have. Every bit of your effort. Get it done and done properly. Or die trying. I'm still here. The days are short in midwinter, even here in Florida. That is, the hours of daylight are few. So I leave the house in the morning in darkness and I return home in darkness in the evening. Every morning as I drive out of my neighborhood in the dark I pass an old man walking. I have never seen his face, but somehow I can picture it in my mind's-eye. But I know he is old. He is not large of stature, his hair is white, and he walks a bit hunched over. And he carries a big stick. It doesn't matter if I drive by at four o'clock or five-thirty, he always seems to be near the same place. And he always raises that big stick into the air as greeting to me as I drive by. Always. Even when his back is to me. Don't you think that odd? And so I often wonder as I make my commute to school: Who is this man? How is it that he is always there, no matter what time it is? How does he know to greet me as I approach in my darkened car? Does he know it's me, or does he just greet everyone that way? And could it be that he's an angel, there watching out for me, making sure I am okay? I've written of angels. I've written often of God's incredible tenderness and sweetness toward me. I drive for fifty minutes to get to school in the morning. It's a sweet time with the Lord. There are often tears. It's pretty amazing. And I'm thankful for that man. I really should wait and put on my eye makeup AFTER I get to school. :)