My Christmas Lesson

Christmas is coming. 

Which means that this week, it was time to do our Christmas lessons. 

We had been looking forward to doing this since September because it was the chance to finally share the most important part of our lives in a legitimate way in the classroom. Not preachy, just sharing the history of Christmas. 

Which means, of course, that this week happened to be the most hectic one in the semester. 

Our team leader said that something always seems to come up around Christmas and Easter, when we are sharing these important history lessons with our classes. 

Coincidence? Hm. Maybe, maybe not. 

Anyway, this time around it was the semesterly English Festival that the students were practicing for. This meant cancelled classes, students missing from classes, co-teachers not being in classes to translate for us, people coming in and out of the classroom--you name it, the interruption happened. 

I had been expecting this, so before I started teaching the lessons I asked the Father extra hard for Hid presence to be evident in the classroom. The result? AMAZING. Seven out of eight of my classes went gloriously. The distractions kept coming, yet the kids were attentive and the teachers were engaged in translating. They loved the story, loved singing Go Tell it on the Mountain (which one of my co-teachers downloaded from me to use for herself), loved setting up a Nativity in class, and I felt awesome. Like, whoa. It was so cool. 

Then it was time to teach Class 15. 

Class 15 is the thorn-in-my-side class. Yes, I still love the babies in it. No, I don't love teaching them.

Classroom management in my situation is already tricky as it is. I'm not the Chinese teacher, which means that I can't call home, send them to an office, or give them real consequences for their behavior. I can't even verbally correct without someone to translate.

What I can do is hit or humiliate, neither of which is my style. 

And Class 15 is a push-all-your-buttons kind of class.

It started out well enough. My co-teacher translated the lesson for me, the kids were engaged, and I felt like I was flying free. Then it came time to learn the song...and suddenly my co-teacher was gone. Out the door, no warning, gone. In any other class, I'd have been able to handle it, but in about ten seconds there was a palpable switch in the atmosphere. 

Which is when all hell broke loose as it never has before in that class.

After class was over (eons and EONS later), I walked back down the stairs to the office while fighting back tears and talking to the Father. 

WHY did that happen in THIS lesson? I wanted to share you! I wanted them to hear! I want to connect with them and love them but it's NOT happening! I ASKED you to help me out!

His answer was soft. 

Those who were supposed to hear, heard. 

Which is when I was reminded that everything is His prerogative, not mine. Touching hearts is not my job, because I am not the Creator of hearts.  My job is to share love and see how far it goes. 

I told the story. 

I didn't yell or hit when they were being crazy. 

I'm sure something better could've been done in that situation, but what happened was not outside of His plan or control. 

As is everything that happens in my life.