We walked in human sandwich formation towards the open grass where the 23 other children were already playing. Shalom clung to my left, scowling as she explained the sore on her forehead where chemicals burned her when one of the older kids clumsily attempted to relax her hair. On my right, with her face pressed into the fabric of my shirt, Passion chattered happily about how many friends she has. “It’s easy to make friends Miss Courtney. You just have to put your biggest smile on and be really, really nice when they ask your name,” she explained to me. I quieted them both by asking them if they like their new school. They peeked at each other around me with slightly tangible sibling tension, and actually agreed on something for once in the years I have known them. They both love it. With the grace of a pregnant elephant, Shalom informed me that everyone thought this school would be sooooo lame before. I must have given her a wounded look because she hurriedly soothed me in her unadulterated, adorably strong Afrikaans accent. “But don’t worry Miss Courtney, we love it here. Yes. I walk so fast to school every morning and I don’t want to leave….I love it so much. There are no words for how much I love it.” With that final sentence, the stress of my first week as an entirely unqualified teacher, the weight of carrying so many young dreams on my shoulders, and the pressing doubts about every breath I have taken for the past month were swept away into God’s hands.
So now here I sit, the remains of a chocolate bar on one side and pieces of notebook paper from my students on the other side, holding the precious responses to the scripture we chose for them this month, Jeremiah 29:11-13. On top of the pile is a written prayer from one of the most sincere humans I have ever met. It says, “Thank you Lord for your word that is so true to me. Thank you for your promise for you say that you have a plan for me and I know and I believe in you for you are a good God and my dreams are safe in your hand and you will never bring me disaster but a future full of hope since I see myself living in your will. I see nothing but the best and happiness, love, joy, peace, and thankfulness. Amen.” Another from a very determined little lady says, “Thank you Lord for giving me and everyone on Earth a plan and a purpose for our lives. Lord I also thank you for giving me the chance to reach my goals. I also want to thank you for all the dreams you have given me, and if it’s your will I would like to become a singer because you have given me the gift of singing and I am willing to show the world the gift that you have given me.” Another from a very bright young man says, “If we don’t know Jesus, there will come a time when we get to search for Him and we will find Him for our future is in His hands and without Him, we have no future, because He alone knows the plans He has for us.”
I was beyond filled with pride this week as watched my class of 9 diligently and gratefully struggle through the introduction of a very complicated set of procedures. To briefly explain what I mean by that, our school, the Jehovah Shalom Mission School, is using a home-schooling curriculum adapted to accommodate students world-wide. Every lesson is presented in a format that almost entirely consists of individualized learning. Students are expected to set their own goals every day, in regards to how many pages in each subject they plan to complete. There are a series of checks and balances throughout each packet, called a PACE, that ensure each child receives personal attention, instruction, and encouragement while also safeguarding against the education policy many of their previous schools enforced which consisted of ‘If you understand it, great. If not, move along.’ My class is the group of older children, ages 15-19. We are starting many of them on coursework far below the grade they are supposed to be in according to chronological age. The idea is that if they understand the material, they will move through each level very quickly and they thrive in the system. If there are major gaps in their learning, the discrepancies will be filled until they too are able to catch up. For one girl in particular, this school is her last chance to gain any necessary skills for the outside world. She is almost 20, less than one year younger than me. For whatever reason, she cannot yet read. She has the most inspiring attitude about it all, keeping a smile even though she is working on the same activities as the 8-year-olds who wiggle and waggle about in the adjoining desks.
However, beyond the schoolwork, the Jehovah Shalom Mission School has given us all an amazing opportunity to break the cycle with this group of kids. I wish I had words to describe the bizarre feelings of peace and restlessness that fill me when I take a moment in the middle of my day to look around me at the heads bent low, when I embrace the children who have faithfully entrusted us with their future. Thank you Lord for this day. Thank you Lord for the love flooding my heart every moment. Thank you Lord for the beautiful faces that fill my thoughts and my dreams. Thank you Lord, thank you.
