Wednesday, August 12, 2009

Teacher's Pet


My 25th High School Reunion was last weekend. I didn’t go and I feel a little regret about that. Make that a lot of regret, now that I've been hearing from some of my best high school friends that they missed me there. I can’t say that my high school years were the most wonderful years of my life. In fact, I recall being extremely anxious to shake the dust of that high school and the small town I grew up in from the bottom of my feet as fast as I could after graduation. But now, with the passage of all these years, I do feel a bit of nostalgia for my youth. Our class president was/is a very savvy woman and has put up a website so that all of the former students can reconnect whether or not they attended the reunion. The website has been a great way to relive some fond and some not so fond memories, most of them murky from the years gone by.

A particular high school memory that I clearly remember is one that I am not too proud of and if my kids were to ever pull a stunt like this, I would be all over them in an instant regarding the perils and evils of cheating. I had taken an easy stitchery credit during my senior year. I loved the counted cross stitch and needlepoint sessions, but the knitting! Oh, it was nearly impossible for me to get the hang of using both hands to create a lovely textile product of which I could be proud. To complete this portion of the class, we were required to knit one baby booty. I just couldn’t do it. My friend Patty had already turned hers in and had received a “B” grade for it. Not too shabby, I thought. A “B” was probably far better than the “F” I was anticipating for not turning a booty in. So, I asked Patty if I could borrow her booty and she agreed. I replaced her name with mine and placed it in the teacher’s basket. The next day it was returned to me with an “A”! I must have been the teacher's pet to receive a better grade than Patty for the very same knitting sample.

I must be God’s pet, too, because he always, always gives me the best grade no matter what. He doesn’t care if I cheat and lie. He doesn't care if I back out of reunion plans. He woos me with His gentle love that pours down in the rains and breaks my heart open with the sunshine gleaming through the first crack in the clouds. His glorious love makes me tremble in sorrow for my sins and I never want to cheat or lie again. I only want to bask in His love, brag about His love and live in His love forever.

Thank you Dear God for turning this humble student of your love into your most favored pet. I will forever adore you as the teacher of my soul. Amen.

5 comments:

  1. Good morning, Anne. I loved your post today, as usual. The last paragragh particularly touched me, it was beautiful. You and your son, John , remind me of the beloved disciple in your knowledge of God's love for you. John is aptly named!
    Also, I thank you for the e-mail. This sounds easy. Wish me luck!

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  2. Anne, I Love that you printed the sea glass prayer! I have to say it it my favorite; all your writing is amazing! Thanks for sharing it with the world, truly!

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  3. Mom! What a great story! You truly are God's favored pet! You are so blessed beyond words!

    God Bless you!

    Love,

    John

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  4. I don't think I would attend my reunion either. I think a lot of people feel that way. Hopefully, the Web site will relieve some of your regret, though ... And just think, there will probably be another one in the future =)

    I appreciate how you draw from your ordinary experiences and find God in them! I wish I was as reflective ... But it is really hard at this stage in my life to ponder too much. So, I strive to find God in the chaos of young family life, and often I find it difficult to feel Him, but I KNOW He is there! And that gives me hope!

    And I like your teacher's pet analogy. Isn't it awesome to think that we are all the Lord's pet? What a testament to His infinite love for each of us that we would all feel that we are the most special ever!

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  5. I feel much the same way about my hihh School and I even refused to have my senior picture taken. What a rebel I was. My class of 1985 was a drugged out disaster. However, some of the people i graduated with have changed a lot. I think I have a different perspective now. I feel more compassion than ever for my class. Thanks for the post.

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