The Love of a Teacher

I still remember the nervous excitement as I walked into the kindergarten wing of Woodland Elementary School for the first time. We were the "mustangs" then, apparently they are the "hawks" now. Sadly, I must have missed the vote for the mascot change. At any rate, getting back to kindergarten, my socks were pulled up to my knees, and my empty backpack was strapped loosely around my shoulders. I had a fresh haircut from Ross the Boss and I sported a buck toothed smile. The same goofy smile my 9 year old son now flashes at me from time to time (Sorry about the big teeth, J.B.) 

When I learned during the summer before kindergarten that my teacher's name was Ms. Thompson, I remember lying in my water bed (Don't you judge me, you had one too) and wondering what kind of teacher Ms. Thompson would be. Would she be strict? Would she be fun? Would she be kind? Would she like me?

It turns out, she was a wonderful lady, who had the keen ability to make all of us in the class feel safe, welcome, and right at home. She made us all feel as if we were a part of something larger than ourselves. We weren't kids playing by ourselves in our classroom, we were a community of shared learners. She made us feel loved. She demanded we treat others with kindness and respect. 
What followed that Kindergarten year was 19 straight years of spending most of my days in a classroom with a teacher. Most of those classroom days, at least until high-school, I spent competing with the teacher for attention in one form or another. The teacher would teach a lesson, and I'd pass a funny note. The teacher would teach a lesson, and I'd whisper a joke. The teacher would teach a lesson, and I'd make a face. The teacher would teach a lesson...you get the idea. Oh, my poor teachers. 
Despite my mediocre intellect and gift for non stop and distracting gab (Just like my daughter, Mallory), the teachers didn't throw me out of the classroom, they didn't give up on me. When I struggled with lessons, which was often, they showed patience and kindness. They never made me feel incapable, unworthy, or undeserving of their time. They changed their explanation, they repeated things for emphasis. 
When I was hurting or upset, they spoke love and kindness to me. When they kneeled down and wrapped me in a hug, nothing else mattered. I could feel the warmth and the reason God had chosen them specifically to be teachers. 
My mom has worked in the school system for many years. My dad was a teacher and a coach for three decades. My wife has an education degree and now teaches our crazy kids every day (The youngest, Linley, is the craziest...you know, in case you stop by the house, I just wanted you to be forewarned and prepared). My mom, my dad, my wife; the lives those three have collectively touched and affected can't be easily measured or counted. It’s simply and amazingly the love of a teacher.
I've learned that teachers all have different teaching styles and personalities, but they all share a commonality, which is their love for teaching and for their students. I'm confident they don't love their job or all their students all the time, but they must love shaping the minds and lives of young people, or they wouldn't do what they do day in and day out for the lack of recognition and despicably low pay they receive. 
There is evidence in Matthew and Mark that Jesus was a carpenter, but it was His role as teacher that resonates in our hearts and minds. The holy gospels (The New Testament: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John) speak many times about Jesus the teacher. The wonderful man who had the keen ability to make others feel safe, welcome, and right at home. He explained how one's focus shouldn’t be selfish, but that we were uniquely created to be a part of something larger then ourselves. He made others feel loved. He demanded that people be treated with kindness and respect. When His disciples and others continuously failed to understand His lessons, He didn't give up on them and He didn't make them feel incapable, unworthy, or underserving of His time. He changed His explanation, He repeated things for emphasis, He taught in parables. Those who met and knew Jesus no doubt could feel His warmth and the reason God had chosen His son to be a teacher. 
The lives Jesus touched and affected can't be easily measured or counted. Just like the teachers who put up with my shenanigans, it wasn't for the pay or recognition, it was simply and amazingly the love of a teacher. 
Much Love, Adam