A Standard

I had a teacher meeting this afternoon after one of my classes. I usually don’t enjoy these meetings, as they tend to be an excuse for negative talking about how poorly students are doing, rather than a positive brainstorming on how to improve as teachers. I often find myself simply “going through the motions” of attending the meetings, contributing what is necessary, and then returning to teaching with the morale, diligence, and creativity of my own convictions. But today I felt a new conviction. Could I be called to be a light not only to my students that I interact with daily, but also with my co-teachers? What a privilege! And how did I get to this place of influence??

As we took turns explaining what we had done that semester for our research project, I found that, for the first time ever, teachers were asking me for ideas and affirmation and input on what they were doing. I felt a shift away from me being the advice- seeker, to others asking me how my students performed so well. And it hit me for the first time, but so profoundly—it is not some magical trick, or some great insight, or even ability on my end. The way that I approach teaching is the way that I approach everything else in life—looking to a higher standard than myself or anyone else, looking to God.

I still get sick at the memory of trying to “cut corners,” not being thorough, when I first started teaching at this particular school. I went to my direct supervisor a year ago to tell her that I had cut some corners, and I knew it was wrong, and I was determined to have a higher work ethic. I think she wasn’t happy with what I had admitted, but was even more shocked that I would tell her. This year, I have put diligence, a strong work ethic, thorough planning and persistent follow-through near the top of my list of priorities. And, as the semester ends, I can look to the Father and say thank You. Thank You for taking me down a path that would make the end better than the beginning, though it is hard to see from the beginning.

I was talking with my teenage brother the other night about procrastination. I have never felt more honored in my life than in the times that he has come in my room, usually late at night, to share his heart and ask me for advice. He’s a senior this year and getting ready to start college, and he doesn’t like school, nor deadlines! We discussed the importance of being faithful in the small pressures of life (papers due, chores around the house, confronting a friend) in order to be entrusted with bigger ones (a career that he loves, a family, a ministry). I thought of my diligence as a teacher in small things that led me to the opportunity to share with other co-workers! I always enjoy our conversations and his humility to grow, but I was left convicted too. What pressures may I not be being faithful in, what passivity inhibits me from staying close to His Word and His way? When do I not strive for His standards, especially when no one else sees?

In the meeting today, conversation turned to a student who wrote a paper on sex outside of marriage. After the initial laughs, all eyes turned to me. I really had no idea why, and had no idea what to say. But I believe the Spirit let me in on the fact that there might be conviction in their hearts. They wanted to know if there was another standard outside of what culture tells us. They knew my strong convictions held a different standard. But their eyes did not accuse or mock, in defense against their own guilty conscience. Instead, I sensed true curiosity. Could sexuality have been created with intentionality and beauty and sacredness the way those with a God say that it was? Or does it remain random, unprotected, unmeaningful, unloving, and unfulfilling the way culture has let them experience it? Could there be another standard and could that standard lead to something better than they’ve ever known? In the past, at unprofessional jobs, I have been questioned, and even mocked, for valuing chastity, virginity, and fidelity within marriage, and often felt afraid and intimidated by those who “ganged up” against me. But I held a standard that was not my own, and the One whose standard it was would fight for me, and He did. However, today I did not feel the mockery, I did not feel fear. I felt compassion. I felt pity. I did view sexuality much differently than those in the room. And that same standard that I placed on purity was related to the standard I used as an employee, as a teacher, as a co-worker. It was a set standard, and one outside of myself, God’s standard.

I know that I could sneak in many ways. Though the word sin has become taboo in even evangelical communities (perhaps in reaction to legalism and to emphasize grace), there is such thing as sin. And sin is disobeying God’s commands, or not doing the good we know we are to do. I certainly can never be perfect. I certainly will continue to fall. I certainly WILL sin, and I will come in repentance again, and again, on my knees. But I can know that trying to follow God in obedience is NOT legalism, nor does it deemphasize grace. It reminds me that there is a set standard. That God loves holiness, which is beautiful. That His commands bring life and blessing. That His way, though I can’t always see it, is the best way.

The past couple months, I’ve had a theme that I believe is Spirit-influenced in my journaling: don’t call shameful what I have called beautiful, and don’t call beautiful what I have called shameful. Secret sins that may be painted as beautiful and romantic or global sins that are flashy and powerful and “in” are indeed shameful if they are sin. And the things that may be less recognized by the world, less elegant and stylish, less noticeably influential, may indeed be beautiful if it is of God. Was it God’s idea to let His Son humbly enter earth and then be mocked, tortured and killed by those who only had power because God had given it to them? And yet, it was. His ways are not always understandable. But I trust them. I trust Him. Let me be faithful to His Word alone, whether the world recognizes it or not. Not ashamed of the Gospel of Christ. Not ashamed of the standard.

Because I have hope of something more. There will be an outcome. Diligence in my job produces an end of the semester that I rejoice in! Diligence in relationships produces friendships that I know are true. Diligence in staying close to Him produces a sense of security and protection from the deception of Satan and self. And so, there is a standard, and with the will He lets me have, I choose to stay close to His standard, because it is good. It is holy. And it is beautiful. But even when I fall, and because I will, God will YOU keep me close to Your standard. There, I rest.