Mucho y Más

“I believe that God totally, absolutely, intentionally gives us more than we can handle. Because this is when we surrender to Him and He takes over, proving Himself by doing the impossible in our lives.” (Katie Davis, Kisses from Katie)

Classroom Chaos

For a moment I stood and looked around my classroom as every kid had their head down, intently copying four letters. When I took a gulp of air, I realized I hadn’t been breathing because I didn’t want to disturb the rare moment of peace. Then the clamor for “¡Ayuda, Ticher!” recommenced all at once. Hands pulled at my shirt, pants, and arms and poked my back and legs from all directions.

Teacher María, the first and second grade teacher, is consistently half an hour to an hour late to school, leaving me to start the day with my ukulele, Spanish Bible picture books, crafts, and object lessons, all while frantically maintaining decorum. When T. María does arrive, she brings her two children, aged two and four, which roam the classroom all morning (not helpful to the ADHD kids). We then tag-team teaching language and math, the two core subjects.

Language is a never-ending struggle, as most second graders do not know how to even write their alphabet from memory and have to be shown what the letter looks like when I spell a word. None of them can read (but neither can some ninth graders, I’m told). Math goes a little better, assuming the kids can stay focused for more than one problem. I rarely get a recess break, as they aren’t allowed outside until they finish their work.

My four hour morning is spent corralling, cajoling, cleaning, comforting, commanding, commending with high-fives, and crouching next to kids in their small wooden desks. I once thought 8:00-12:00 wasn’t long enough for school, but now my exhausted brain can’t imagine going all day!

Amidst the chaos are moments that I’m storing in my heart like a treasure chest. One such gem was on Friday during my “alone hour.” I based that worship on the “evangicube” I was given to bring. It is a cube with pictures on all sides that folds in an order that tells the story of sin separating us from God, Jesus’ death and resurrection, and the choice we have to make to accept Him and Heaven. I prayed so hard before going that my class would somehow focus (for once) and that my Google-translated-key-word bullet points would somehow be said in a way that conveyed the beauty of the gospel. I presented the cube with great suspense and had the kids circle around me to listen and watch. They were enamored. I had never — and haven’t since — experienced such attentive silence from this group. Once I finished telling the story with surprising fluency and they all prayed to thank Jesus for His gift, I let them each hold the cube. All eight kids took turns walking through it and explaining the pictures. I was so grateful for the impactful moment and thought it was over once T. María arrived. However, Friday night at supper Nicol, the only girl from Las Lilas in my class, turned to T. Abi and animatedly said, “Did you know Jesus died on a Friday?” I perked up, as she was referencing my class. She continued with great excitement, “But good news! He rose again on Sunday!” I couldn’t have had a bigger grin. Something actually stuck!

Cracks

There once was a water pot, perfect except for one large crack in the side. Whenever it’s owner would go to the well, it would spill half its contents on the way back to the house, unlike the perfect water pot on his other shoulder. One day after a year of losing most of its load, the pot became overwhelmed and said to its owner, “I want to apologize to you. I have been able to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work and don’t get the full value for your efforts.”

The pot-carrier said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I planted flower seeds on your side of the path. Everyday while we walk back, you've watered them. For a year I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers that bring so much joy to the lives of others.” (From “Bible in One Year 2022 with Nicky Gumbel - Classic”)

Parenting 101

Sunday was a wake-up call to the fact that these girls in my house aren’t always the angels I’d pegged them to be. In fact, one girl especially seemed to try to put Emilianne and I through the wringer and commenced a petty power struggle.

This older girl took it upon herself to go through Nicol’s clothes and throw her favorite dress, a skirt, a jacket, and sweatpants into the burn pit! I found them and put them back, only to later find an upset girl taking them back off the shelf and questioning my authority. The same girl regularly informs me matter-of-factly that we can’t eat the food I’m cooking or that I can’t use certain ingredients — like “we’re saving those tomatoes for two weeks” (when we literally have a fridge full) or “the *some-mythical-creature-I-don’t-remember-the-word-for* passed over that last night so it’s not clean” nonsense. She made another girl cry about who-knows-what, tried to sneak out to see a boy, bosses around the baby, and makes up nonsense sentences that she challenges us to translate solely to point out our incompetence.

I wasn’t born yesterday, but my Spanish was! This is the crack in my pot. The language barrier is where I feel like I spill half my usefulness.

Now I’m just waiting to see what flowers grow.

Purpose

We SMs are standing at the foot of Mt. Everest. It is incredibly tall, incredibly daunting, nearly impossible. Looking up, we know that people have climbed it before, that God hand-picked us to continue what they did, and that others will follow after us. But this mountain is overwhelming when we stop and stare.

“What are we doing here?” all of us have asked in a reality-check. “What difference could we possibly make this year, emptying the ocean with an eye dropper?”

But instead of giving up before getting started, I remember that God asked us to climb, not to stand and look at it the height of Mt. Everest or to worry about our lack of gear or the fact that we’re dragging toddlers with us. He tells us, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26).

When we nine SMs met for worship after kids were in bed on Friday night, we all shared these sentiments. But more powerfully, we all shared how we saw God working in our week. Carlo pointed out how it was realistic but surprising that some kids are closed off to the concept of God. His comment summed up our purpose: “We may be the only Bible these kids will ever read. The Jesus in you may be the only Jesus they ever see.”

So we’ve decided we’re going to climb. Thinking big in small chunks. I started implementing more writing in Las Lilas, making a “favorite part of today” wall and having the girls write out those moments on sticky notes to be strung up. Emilianne decided to go from house to house and read books with the kids, an integral part of childhood development that is severely lacking. Treson and Elizabeth want to plan basic science lessons in the afternoons (necessary for at least one high school boy who thought there were multiple suns, since it appears in different parts of the sky at different times of the day). Sierra is loving on so many kids working as the beloved nurse, and Zoro is teaching the older boys how to work by getting his hands dirty — and climbing up on thatch roofs with them. Maddy, Carlo, and Lisiane are funneling all their after-school energy into the little boys, which is more than a full-time job.

“It’s not about what you can do, it’s about what God needs you to do,” a former SM to Bolivia told us this summer. “You may feel like you aren’t making a difference, but doing what’s immediately needed is what will be the biggest help.”

Any “qualifications” we think we hold are disregarded by the God who sees what role we’re needed to fill and what He can do through us instead.

At the end of the day, it’s not about how much of the mountain we were able to climb in one year. There will be no grand reform in education or any Einsteins generated. We came here to love on kids, and that’s what they need most. Doing little things to make a little difference in even one person’s life would make it worth coming.

Common & Ordinary

“Heaven and earth are no wider apart today than when shepherds listened to the angels' song. Humanity is still as much the object of heaven's solicitude as when common men of common occupations met angels at noonday, and talked with the heavenly messengers in the vineyards and the fields. To us in the common walks of life, heaven may be very near. Angels from the courts above will attend the steps of those who come and go at God's command.”

(The Desire of Ages, 48)

It amazes me how God is near when I flip pancakes for breakfast, when I count out ten plates before meals, when I squat by the spigot doing dishes, when I sit in a hammock with two girls in tired silence, when we all mix up oatmeal cookies after school. It blows my mind that God wants to be with me when I’m picking up dried up markers from the dirty classroom floor, carrying a baby tarantula a boy threw at Sara, and holding a kid who’s crying in frustration. Heaven is invested in the broken conversations I have with my girls at the laundry sinks, in our baseball game using a shoe as a ball, in the giggles I get from Nirza as we twirl around the kitchen. When I think about that, the ordinary isn’t so ordinary after all.

“God does give us more than we can handle. Not maliciously, but intentionally, in love, that His glory may be displayed, that we may have no doubt of Who is in control, that people may see His grace.” (Kisses from Katie)

Love from the chaos and the ordinary,
Katie-Jane
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