“Well, how did you get along?” Marilla wanted to know.

“Ask me that a month later and I may be able to tell you. I can’t now– I don’t know myself– I’m too near it. My thoughts feel as if they had been all stirred up until they were thick and muddy. The only thing I feel really sure of having accomplished today is that I taught Cliffie Wright that A is A. He never knew it before. Isn’t it something to have started a soul along a path that may end in Shakespeare and Paradise Lost?”

-L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea

… and might I add, the Bible.

I’m not showing any of my students that A is A, thankfully they have learned that by Year 7. However, I still feel that nearness to the circumstance, that awareness of the simplicity of my lessons, and the gravity of the whole journey. What a path that teachers point to! A winding myriad of classes and curriculum in which the student begins to discover who they truly are.

Who am I, truly, for that matter? I am so near the teaching, that lesson plans are printed out and hot pink post-it notes still have check-boxes left undone. And here I am blogging?

Just for a moment.

Just to breathe, to give thanks for the journey. For today I found out that the Holy Spirit gives peace and joy… ask me no more. He knows me. Father, He has “started a soul along a path” that ends in the knowledge of His Son… the one who was crucified… but let me not add it as an afterthought, but as a foundational heart-beat to all I do:


Knowing that we have resurrection– hearts coming alive– certainly makes it easier to die daily. And if I can teach a child that A is A and John 3:16 is in the New Testament, well, what earthly cost could ever compare to the triumph of a soul knowing Christ? No cost at all.

Remember that tomorrow, oh my soul: He is worth it.