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Once a teacher, always a teacher. This sentiment rings truest each August when the buses run their routes and the school bells ring. It has been three years since I crossed the threshold of my own classroom and I still miss it. Decorating bulletin boards, corralling energetic eighth graders, teaching about our nation’s history . . . all gone. I find myself gravitating to children at church or interacting with teenagers at restaurants because the core of who I am resides with instructing young minds.
Don’t misread my message. I love being in ministry full-time, but my gaze still lingers on the children outside my office window as they climb the steps of the big yellow bus. I think I’ll go to Walmart later and reprimand some children running down the aisles.
Don’t misread my message. I love being in ministry full-time, but my gaze still lingers on the children outside my office window as they climb the steps of the big yellow bus. I think I’ll go to Walmart later and reprimand some children running down the aisles.
Once a teacher, always a teacher.
