"Just like you said."

I'm a man who believes in grace and mercy - and who draws strength from those deep wells more often than most realize. As a pastor of a smaller church family that's seen its share of challenges, staying focused on Jesus' love has meant that when the storms come I know they come with needed rain and that they will not last forever. God loves me and works everything together for my good - even if it doesn't feel like "good" at the time. And that same beacon keeps me straight at school too.

Every year as a teacher is different. Obviously there are new children and new parents to know and relate to. Less obvious to the outside world are the changes in what you teach and how you teach. Let's just say we are in a time of extremely rapid change that's affecting everyone.

Teaching relies on a lot of skills, but really good teaching has that and more - good teachers have a character that lets them sway with the wind but stay rooted in their confident belief that if they do the right things every day, children will come through their classroom and leave as better students and better people. Like my work as a pastor though, that belief is tested by the times when you can't see the change happen, or when you look out and see people headed the wrong way despite everything you invested and prayed for.

So you learn to pray for rays of sunlight in the dark days - for glimpses of God's mercy and grace. You say things to Him like "If I could just see one thing go right today..."

In the avalanche of prayers that reach His ears, I'm sure that seems trivial. But absent confidence, teaching becomes something of a roller coaster ride depending on immediate success to keep you going. But this time of year, 12 weeks in, immediacy isn't always there.

Our awards ceremony comes for the first nine weeks and I have only one student who qualifies. Most classes have 6 or more. Four of my kids missed it by one point, but they missed it. I'm trying to shake the feeling that somehow I failed.

So I'm sitting in the audience after my turn, watching the 4th graders troop across the stage and applauding when they do, but harder when my kids from last year do. About halfway through,I notice a kid who had the teacher next door to me last year made it. He struggled last year for a lot of reasons out of his control, and a couple of times his teacher had asked me to talk to him. I tried to let him know that it wouldn't always be that hard, and the best thing he could do was do his best at the things he could control. Then I had him look directly at me when I told him that I believed he could and should be an honors student.

And now he was. That was cool to see, but then it happened.

As the 4th graders filed past me, returning to their seats, the boy stopped in front of me and said, "I did it Mr. Wilson. Just like you said I could."

I replied, "Just like I knew you could. Great job!"

A sense of warmth and love filled my soul. I needed that. I had prayed for that.

Thank you God. You were there for me, just like You said.

Cue the Wayback Machine! "When One Person Cares"

I just heard from the best math teacher I ever had, Hazel Struby. She was googling and found a devotional I wrote. In her honor, I'll copy and paste another.

When One Person Cares

All the pieces for a disastrous fourth grade experience were there for me.

My appearance - only a Mother could love (since she pretty much decided how I'd look) that geeky boy with glasses, wierd wavy hair and hand me down clothes.

My point of origin - we were new in the community, just having moved out from the city into a rural area.

My timing - it's better to be new when everyone else is too. We didn't move until a month into the 4th grade. So everyone had picked their friends and the new had worn off everyone - except me.

My personality - didn't have one. I did though have horrible allergies that would cause me to break out into hives that made my skin look like a 3-D map of the world, swell my lip up until it turned inside out, and cause my eyes to close.

So if you were looking for someone to pick on, I was your huckleberry.

All those factors were crushed by one person's care. My home room teacher, Mrs. Pyles cared about me.

Somehow, without ever raising her voice, or making me a teacher's pet, she helped me find a place there, helped me when my allergies took hold, just helped me. She was only one person. But she was more than enough.

Later, much later, I was stuck in a dead end job, having thrown away my chance to get a college degree. I had bills, a young family, and a crushing need to do better. But it had been so long since I was in high school, I knew there was no way I could pass Math.

That was before I met Hazel Struby. She was a math teacher who would not allow me to fail. Shoot - she wouldn't allow me to make a B.

On the eve of back to school frenzy across the street at Valparaiso Elementary tomorrow, I think about those teachers God placed in my life at just the right time and just the right place to do for me what no one else could have done.

Friend, you'll never convince me God doesn't care.

Thing is, He works best through people.

You might be the one He's chosen for someone.

Or someone you know might have been placed within your circle of people just for you.

I'll never be able to repay everyone who has helped me.

But I know Who to thank. When I look back, I feel like this:

2 Samuel 22:24 (Msg)
I feel put back together,
and I'm watching my step.
God rewrote the text of my life
when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes.

Do this for me today - open the book of your heart to God's eyes. Maybe there's a secret hurt, an unfulfilled longing that you've suffered for too long. If you give it to your loving Father, He'll take the fragments of your life story and rewrite it into His masterpiece.

When one person cares, it makes a difference. When that person is God, He makes all the difference - forever.

Grace!

David