That’s the one word that describes my constant state of being.

Entertaining the children, handing out Bible verses, making sure the fish aren’t frightened to death, directing my helpers, cleaning up crayons off the floor, pouring out cheez-its on to a napkin, sneaking candy out of the bottom drawer of our fridge, crowd control, attempting to organize straight lines, always making sure there’s eleven kids and no less.

It’s all a circus act, I’m the conductor with the top hat… there’s monkeys and elephants to control, mice and rabbits to protect. There’s stage directors who help everyone be in the right place at the right time. There’s acrobats completing impossible feats. There’s many clowns and even lion tamers. Yep, our class is a circus.

But somehow, interwoven into all of our lives, there’s a constant… someone who loves us even when the day isn’t going exactly as planned. He loves me and that is how I should measure my success. Not the amount of screaming fans or popcorn flying. Not the amount of contented sighs from parents or pats on the backs from friends. It’s all because the King of the universe… LOVES… ME.

End of story.