As a fifth grade teacher, ALL day long my students are calling out-trying to gain my attention. "Ms. Schnoor, may I use the restroom?" "Ms. Schnoor, my pencil broke." "Ms. Schnoor, I'm cold!" My finger hurts, I have the hiccups, I'm tired, my dog is sick...
Attention, attention, attention.
I try to choose wisely whom I do and do not give my attention to. Some students get no attention at home, and therefore will go to any extreme to receive my focus. My response to their cry for attention usually is not that of patience and love. Usually it's an eye roll, a sigh, or a frustrated teacher saying, "what now?"
By the end of the day, I am spent. I have no more attention to give anyone. All I want now is a little attention for myself in the form of a foot rub, a hot meal and a little caffeine.
As I sit in my room at the end of each school day, the school's janitor, Mr. Bean, comes in to "clean" my room. He pulls out his overused mop, and a clear bottle filled with a mysterious brown cleaning solution. (I'm not sure what cleaning solution is brown. To me, brown liquids = mud.)
Mr. Bean is large man, with a lazy eye and very few teeth. As he scantily sweeps the floor and cleans the toilette, he rambles on to me about it being too cold outside, which school gate needs to be opened at what time, and the joys and calamities of his new house. Mr. Bean is another person who is demanding my attention. Each day, I zone out of his one-sided conversation after about five minutes, and give a rote effort to appease his demand for attention with an occasional "uh-huh" or "oh yeah?"
Next, I pile bags of papers, which will demand my attention later on, into my car. I sit and soak in the warmth as I sigh deeply. Another day is finished. I'm a day closer to summer- when the only things that will demand my attention will be projects around the house, books, lunch with friends, trips to visit family, and the occasional photo shoot.
As I commute home, I have 50 minutes to enjoy the quiet, attention-free atmosphere. I begin praying and soliciting the attention of my King. The One who never minds my wanting His attention. As a matter of fact, He relishes in my calling out to Him. The funny thing is, my demands are equal to that of my students. "Jesus, help this driver to stay in their lane!" "Lord, please let it warm up outside soon..." and sometimes even, "Jesus, please help me to find a place to stop and use the restroom!"
Even when my demands are bigger- involving health, family, money, or my heart's deepest fears, He listens attentively. In my classroom, I have 20, 12 year olds calling my name and I respond with frustration. He has all of the 12 year olds in the world calling His name-along with everyone else. Each time, He responds with love. He encourages my frustrated heart, calms my deepest fears, and leads me one step at a time. There is never a moment when I am alone, or when Jesus deeply sighs and rolls His eyes while saying, "What now, Kristen?" Instead, He welcomes me into His arms once again.
I'm thankful that I have His attention.
