World’s Best Teacher

Inspired by the Gathered Grace watercolor card, “Coloring Bright Futures”

A Little Piece of History

Imagine walking into an American schoolroom in the 1800s. There are no brightly colored folders waiting on the desks, no endless supply of notebooks, mechanical pencils or freshly sharpened boxes of No. 2s.

For many schoolchildren, there was simply a small slate and a slate pencil. Before inexpensive paper became widely available, students commonly practiced their lessons on individual slate boards. They wrote their letters, worked their arithmetic and practiced their penmanship. The teacher checked their work, and when the lesson was finished, the slate was wiped clean and used again.

There is something about that image I love: a child learning something new, making a mistake, having it corrected, wiping the slate clean and trying again.

Because isn't that what learning requires?

Not perfection. A willingness to be taught.

Devotional

When I painted the colorful pencils for a card I titled Coloring Bright Futures, I was thinking about the teachers who pour so much of themselves into their students. The ones who explain something for the fifth time because maybe this will be the time it finally clicks. The ones who recognize potential hiding beneath frustration and celebrate the wobbly first attempt instead of waiting for the polished final result.

A good teacher doesn't expect a student to know everything before entering the classroom. That's why they're there.

And somewhere in the middle of painting all those pencils, I found myself thinking about another Teacher.

When it comes to following Jesus, how often do we expect ourselves to have already mastered the lesson? We think we should have more patience by now. We shouldn't still struggle with that. We should trust God more. We should know Scripture better. We certainly shouldn't have made that same mistake again.

Somewhere along the way, discipleship can begin to feel less like learning from a Teacher and more like desperately trying to earn a passing grade.

But Jesus didn't call His followers graduates. He called them disciples.

Learners.

Peter didn't understand every lesson the first time. Neither did Thomas. Neither did Martha. The people who walked beside Jesus asked questions, misunderstood, received correction, stumbled and continued following.

And neither do we understand everything the first time.

Maybe that's why that old schoolhouse slate is such a beautiful picture of grace. Write. Learn. Correct. Erase. Begin again.

Except the grace Jesus offers goes much deeper than wiping chalk from a slate. When we confess our sin, He forgives. When we wander, He calls us back. When we don't understand, His Word continues teaching us. And when we fall, He doesn't toss us out of the classroom.

He keeps teaching.

Perhaps one of the most freeing things we can say to God is simply, “Lord, I don't know how to do this yet. Teach me.”

Teach me how to forgive. Teach me how to wait. Teach me how to trust You when I can't see what You're doing. Teach me how to speak with kindness when I'm frustrated. Teach me how to recognize Your voice. Teach me how to surrender the things I keep trying to control.

A teachable heart requires humility because it admits there is still something to learn.

Maybe spiritual maturity isn't reaching the point where we no longer need instruction. Maybe maturity is realizing just how much we still need our Teacher.

A Little Something to Gather

Think about something you're struggling with right now. Instead of asking only, “God, why is this happening?” try asking, “Lord, what are You teaching me here?”

And then consider the harder question: Am I willing to be taught if His lesson is different from the answer I was hoping for?

Perhaps today isn't a test you're failing.

Perhaps you're still in the lesson.

Pick up the pencil. There's more to learn.

Scripture

“Show me the right path, O Lord; point out the road for me to follow. Lead me by your truth and teach me, for you are the God who saves me. All day long I put my hope in You.”
Psalm 25:4–5, NLT

David doesn't pray, “Lord, look how much I already know.” He asks God to show him, lead him and teach him.

That is the posture of a disciple.

Prayer

Father, thank You for never growing tired of teaching me. There are lessons I haven't understood the first time, mistakes I've repeated, places where I've been stubborn and moments when I've wanted You to change my circumstances more than I've wanted You to change me.

Give me a teachable heart. When I don't understand, teach me. When I am impatient, teach me to wait. When fear gets louder than faith, teach me to trust. When I get something wrong, give me the humility to receive Your correction and the courage to begin again.

Thank You that Your grace doesn't require me to enter the classroom already knowing everything. I am still learning. Keep shaping me, correcting me, encouraging me and drawing me closer to You.

You are my Teacher, and I still have so much to learn.

Amen.