a gentle nudge

I have recently landed in the unknown and previously intimidating regions of the middle school (dun dun dun...), a land filled with hormones and cell phones, where Twilight and SpongeBob coexist, where little girls still have skating parties for their birthday, except now they invite boys. Part of the life of a middle school teacher involves trying to navigate, corral, and otherwise herd hundreds of "tweens" through crowded and often chaotic hallways without a) dropping the enormous pile of copies to be made, b) losing sight of that little stink who always wants to do his Michael Jackson moonwalk, though you've warned him repeatedly it's not a safe way to travel a congested passageway or c) generally being trampled to death. But as my brain is never content to simply survive and be thankful for the avoidance of injury, I found it wandering into deeper realms as I happily escorted my lovelies to their PE teachers with a fond farewell.

Standing in the midst of bodies, many larger than my 5'4" frame, flying every possible direction down a narrow corridor, I noticed how I instinctively guide my students out of harm's way. "A little to the right." "Watch that door." "Here, let me help you." "No, you cannot get your fifty-seventh drink of the day." It involves a hand to the elbow, blocking an undesired path, an arm about the shoulders. Always gentle, always filled with care. I want them to be safe. I want them to stay out of trouble. I want them to go the best way, the way that is clear and leads them to their final destination in one happy little piece.

I realized that this is so much like what God does in my life and the lives of all His children. He nudges us. "Don't go that way. I've got a better way for you," he whispers to us. He quietly, yet with authority, blocks the unwanted paths. He wraps a loving arm around us to keep us close. He has guided me like this so many times in my own unpredictable and seemingly disconnected little life.

I wanted to move to a city far away, but I didn't get a job and my living plans fell through. Having no other option, I moved in with my parents and landed in an urban district. I didn't know if I could cut it. I fell in love with those kids. I learned how to really teach and how to really love and connect. I moved again, thinking I wanted to be somewhere similar. God put me in a suburban school, struggling to find identity and reach kids. Somewhere my newfound strength and talents can really be used.

And that's where I find myself now. Standing in the middle of these overcrowded, congested hallways, surrounded by young souls full of energy, possibility, and often hurt. And I do what my Father does. I guide them. I direct them. I nudge them. And I make their paths clear.

"In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps." Proverbs 16:9