This morning, my Little Bear came to school with me. It's not that he particularly wanted to be with me, nor did he crave the company of children. I was simply his means of traveling 20 km to his friend's house, just 3 doors away from my school. I coerced him into spending a bit of time in my class. (Today was a professional day for the boys, in case you are wondering why LB wasn't in his own class).
We started the school day and welcomed my students. There was a lot of whispering and giggling as they noticed a large male body at my desk, and they were pleased to realize who it was. I asked Little Bear to preside over our class devotions, which he did with enjoyment, and the children loved his sense of humour! I was proud of the way he took the story about Hudson Taylor, the famous missionary in China, and pulled out the message of trusting God. After staying for the first hour of class, the boy left for more social climes - all you can eat sushi for a classmate's birthday.
I love that he wants to be a teacher. I love that he still likes his mum. I love that he has wonderful friends.
I can't comprehend the hugeness of the Elim College tragedy. My boys are so large, loud, hungry, and pulsating with teenage life. I know that those kids who died were the same way. How can a life be there one moment, and gone the next? What will the parents do every time they pass their child's bedroom, full of things that were just written, just listened to, just worn, just touched? What will they do with all the appointments, plans, and dreams?
I know that without a larger destiny and a faith that imparts hope and a future, everybody involved could just wither away. I'm so glad that the strong community can link arms and be a picture of the true body.