The sweet comfort of God's presence in the darkness

The first week of school is over. Wow. I feel like I've been back for a couple months. It was so good to see all my dear, sweet students again, and it was equally good to see the not-so-sweet ones. I think I have to fire my TA. I assigned a book report on the 2nd day of school. Heh heh heh. I love being evil like that. I'm going to assign their research paper on the day they get back from Christmas break (which is also the first day of the new semester). I can't wait for THAT reaction. I'll let you know how that goes when it happens...

In 90 minutes, a memorial service will begin in the gym--10 feet from where I sit typing--for our vice-principal. He died last Saturday after a long battle with a brain tumor. His entire family is involved with the school in one way or another, and it has been heart-breaking here. He mentored dozens of boys through his additional roles as dean of boys and varsity basketball coach.

What a way to start the school year. In another sense, we are starting this school year real and raw and broken--which is good but oh-so-difficult. Several staff members have a spouse or parent who is seriously ill or dying, and we're all holding strong for each other in a humble, broken way. I don't know what God is doing here this year, but I'm starting to think that it's going to be powerful and painful. And good. Very, very good. God is cutting us back to the essentials, reminding us what is truly important, and giving us opportunities to discuss literal life-and-death issues with our students. I feel blessed. Overwhelmingly blessed. Blessing-that-passes-understanding. From the outside we look cursed and wounded. From the inside, I feel only compassion and faith and strength and love.

I believe in seasons of life, seasons of death, seasons of joy, seasons of mourning, seasons of ease and seasons of struggle. Life, joy and ease seem so attractive when we are in the midst of them, but I am who I am because of what God has done in my heart by using death, mourning and struggle. These are the times when I can see clearly and love thoroughly. May I never be so blinded by ease that I forget the sweet comfort of God's presence in the darkness.