With Rods painted red

I first established the idea for this blog many years ago, when I just started working at a public Montessori school in a relatively poor neighborhood. But then life happened. Before I knew it I found myself in a Montessori teacher education program, graduate school, and lead teaching in an early childhood classroom. Being one of a handful of men in my school (there were three of us at the time), I felt a bit of pressure to perform. I was quite stressed and worn down. What constantly brought me back was the primary reason that I came to my school, that I began learning Montessori pedagogy, that I do anything at all: to bring glory to God. 

Granted, I had to learn the lesson of being satisfied in Jesus by being hospitalized, but that's another story for another day. (I'm quite fine now, thanks). My point is that there was very little time for me to reflect on what it means to be a Montessori teacher, while first being a lover and follower of Jesus. 

But now I can.

One of the things I enjoy about Montessori education is the unique materials that are used to spark the intrinsic motivation of students, and using that as the catalyst for them to understand the world around them. Materials like the red rods, placed on an unadorned shelf have a way of holding the attention of young children. Do they notice that there are 10 rods? Do they notice that each rod is 10cm more than the next one? No. But they're still using it. So in some sense they know it more deeply than we do.

Suffice it to say, many children enjoy working with this Sensorial material, but it takes a bit of time for many to get it right. Especially since the children are required to carry one rod at a time back to their work mats. 10 times they walk to their mat. 10 times they walk back to the shelf from which they retrieved it. And often they are smiling as they go.

Do they notice that there are 10 red rods? Do they notice that each rod is 10cm more than the next one? No. But they're still using it.So in some sense they know it more deeply than we do.

Which gets me thinking...

Psalm 118:24 says, "This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it." How often am I rejoicing in the Lord when I do my work? Surely it doesn't mean I must always be smiling...but perhaps I sometimes will. Many of my students have experienced numerous forms of trauma. In working with them and showing them love and kindness (and often absorbing their assaults of hugs or hits...or both), I take on some of their trauma. But I can still rejoice even in the midst of that. I can rejoice in the knowledge that God has specifically placed me in my classroom at this time to show the love of Christ to children. Me? But I don't measure up! I constantly fail in my teaching and in life! And God knows that. Yet He's orchestrated it all to bring me closer to His likeness, while making His name known to a generation that I will not see in its fullness. On my worst days, that's something worth smiling about.