Tuesdays in Homeroom are "Troubled Tuesdays." It's the day when the kids can spill out any of the things that are troubling them, we dump it all on the board, and then we pray about them coated in the trust that God knows our troubles intimately and cares about them. Today was no exception, and boy was it a day that would need to be bathed in prayer.
I usually arrive at school around 8:15. By about 8:20 today, I could tell things were setting up to be a pretty crummy day. By 8:55 it was even more definite. Several mean e-mails, two poor tests, and a lunch detention later, I was dropping with hunched shoulders into my chair and just about to pop in the headphones to escape when I heard a small voice behind me, "Miss Custer?"
It was one of my 8th grade girls. Amidst the craziness of the staff room, she came straight up to me, got really close, and asked in all seriousness if we could talk somewhere in private. My heart went straight into my throat, and I have to admit my first thought was, "Uh-oh, now what?" But I followed her out into the hallway and then into the privacy of an unused room, and that's when she opened up. She wanted prayer. She said some really nice things about trusting me and just being in a place right now where she was asking all kinds of questions about God - is he really there for her? Does he care? What are his intentions with her life? Can he be trusted? And then she asked again, "Will you pray for me?"
What a blessing to be able to approach the throne with her, not as a student but as my sister. I wasn't sure about the right words, but I prayed with and for her. And when she left to go back to class, I had trouble fighting back the tears. More than anything, I was completely humbled and frightened - humbled that she had allowed me that privilege, and frightened because I was reminded of the scary responsibility I have here to represent Jesus to these kids. The thought that played over and over in my head the rest of the day was this one: "If they're looking at us, who do they see us looking at?" I sincerely hope they see me gazing intently and forever into the face of my Savior!
