Yesterday, I had to return to my classroom because I'd left a very important paper sitting on my desk--my grocery list. As I opened the doors and walked through the familiar hallway, I saw a group of teenagers standing just in front of the stairwell. Their job that day? They had walked around the school praying for students and faculty.
I casually commented, "When you're finished, feel free to pray over my classroom door." I needed to respond to them--to give them a sense of support since we share a belief in Christ.
Matter-of-factly (and in unison...the way only high school students can), they responded, "We already did."
That thought has been circling in my head all morning.
In general, I keep the private parts of my life off of this blog. It's public and I don't want to be one of those people who go into sharing overload unless I can give someone else a laugh. I want to offer encouragement, but occasionally, I need to write to work through circumstances. But I never want to feel like I'm doing it for sympathy.
That said, I should admit that I'm afraid. Most of the time, I can lay that fear to the side and accomplish simple tasks, but as I get older, it creeps up on me. I'm fearful to stay in the same place I've been for the last few years. It bothers me to know that fear slowly chips away at my ability to believe in a God I really do trust, but struggle to understand.
But yesterday, when those kids said, "We already did," it was a reminder, however flippant, that this show ain't about me. When I'm scared, I start a cycle of constant concern for me and myself--nothing else. It's a repetitive and damaging place.
So I'm going to make an effort to put myself in the position those students did. I want to be able to respond, "I already did," when others need something I can give them. It's one step in breaking that cycle.