It came in a brown lunch bag with “To: Ms. Morrison (written neatly) From: Jake (scrawled in little boy’s handwriting)” on it. Is this it? Am I official?
I guess the big red apple I got on the first day of my school practicum proves it.
See, these kids don’t know that I’m just a student, too. They don’t know that I’m a novice, that I don’t really know what I’m doing, that I’m actually little intimidated by the whole thing.
Yeah, to little Jake and his nearly 30 classmates in our combined K-4/Speech-Language classroom, I’m just Miss Morrison.
One of their teachers.
Onward.
James 1: 2-4 “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”
Count it all joy when you can’t find your keys and you’re late for the bus. Count it all joy when your paycheck isn’t cut because someone in payroll misfiled your timecard. Count it all joy when you feel out of place. Count it all joy when you are unbearably homesick. Count it all joy when you stub your toe. Count it all joy when you’re reviled for sharing the gospel. Count it all joy when your computer crashes. Count it all joy when you miss someone. Count it all joy when you’ve studied diligently and you still get a C (or D) on the test. Count it all joy when you’re stuck in traffic. Count it all joy when your friends just don’t “get it”. Count it all joy when you show up but your luggage doesn’t. Count it all joy when your teacher is spouting off humanistic nonsense. Count it all joy when your expectations aren’t met, when your hopes are dashed, your dreams are unfulfilled.
Count it all joy because you know the end of the story.
Made for Eternity 