Christmas Projects

    Christmas. This single word brings to the mind of any teacher several others, among them words like "program practice", "gift shopping", and "parent projects." It is the last of these that jars a memory in my mind of one time when the Christmas project of one class affected the entire school. 
     Adam raised his right hand wildly, clutching his nose with the left and making gagging noises. Brittany wrinkled her nose and made a disgusted noise. 

    Miss Shaw answered Adam's hand, knowing even before she did so what he likely wanted. "Yes, Adam?"

    "What is that? It stinks!"

    "Yeah!" Sawyer chimed in, forgetting to raise his hand entirely. "I'm about to puke!"

    Les tumbled from his desk seat and sprawled motionless on the floor, in the typically dramatic way of middle grade boys. "Les," said Miss Shaw sternly, "get back in your desk.

    "But I fainted!" he protested, clambering to his feet.

    Andrea raised her hand. "What is it? I'm getting a headache!"

    Miss Shaw sighed. "It smells like my dad's shop when he's been staining cabinets. I suppose the upper graders are working on their Christmas projects. Now everybody get to work. You'll survive 'til recess, then you can go outside."

    Over in the first and second grade classroom, Miss Schmidt had hardly noticed the smell before she released her students for recess, but she did notice a ruckus by the boys' bathroom door. She rapped on the door, and David stuck his head out, peering at her over his glasses which had slid to the tip of his nose. In his hand he clutched a bottle of Goo Gone. Beyond him, she could see the floor littered with paper towels. 

    "How many boys are in there?" she asked suspiciously.

    "Three," he answered.

    "It's an emergency!" came another voice from within. "Teacher's orders!"

    Just then, Miss Kelley came striding from her classroom. "Yes," she responded to Miss Schmidt's questioning look, "it's necessary."

    Recess over, the first and second graders trooped back in. The smell had seeped through the air vents into their classroom now. Whatever it was, it was positively overpowering. After some pondering, Miss Schmidt finally had her class move to a little-used room where the smell had not yet penetrated. There they were able to continue with their lessons.

    Who would have guessed a smell could result in such drama? But it seems to be in our makeup to be dramatic about the turns our lives take. When I've  gone against my conscience, I sometimes feel like I am a complete failure anyhow so may as well stop trying. When two or three things don't go how I think they should, I start thinking the whole world is against me. When I spend too much time reading headlines, I begin to give in to a spirit of fear and hopelessness.

    Again and again I have to turn things over to God. I don't believe He intends for me to be so dramatic. Yes, bad things happen. Yes, things are sometimes sad and scary, but He has everything under control. As long as my trust is anchored in Him and not in the things of this world, there is no need for me to pulled to and fro by the spirits of doubt and dread that try to invade. In Him I can live and move and have my being, joyfully, hopefully, and in a place of praise to the Maker of all.

    I suppose you are wondering what caused all the drama that fateful day. The sixth, seventh, and eighth graders had been staining wooden clocks they were making for Christmas. Someone had left the can of stain open. Coby had been standing nearby when Nick got the bright idea to kick him. Naturally, Coby spun around to face him. In doing so, his elbow knocked the open can of stain. What happened next was, as one student put it, "A quick way to end Language!"

    Miss Kelley whirled around from the markerboard in time to see the disaster finish unfolding. Even her stern, "Boys!" died on her lips as her horrified gaze took in the stain, dripping from three pairs of blue jeans that had been within range, running down the covers of Nick's books, spreading over some binders that lay nearby, and soaking into the carpet.

    Sure, there was damage that day, some of it perhaps even irreparable, but life went on. Much of the stain was able to be wiped away in the end. Even the large spot on the carpet was able to be removed by professional carpet cleaners. 

    As we face the disasters in our lives, both the personal disappointments and those on a larger scale, let's not lose sight of God's might. Even things that seem hopeless to fix, like stain on carpets, can be remedied by His powerful touch. Our dramas that seem so big would look small if we could see them held in the palm of His hand.

    No, we don't always understand why things happen as they do. Neither can we see into the future, but I believe that my place as a Christian is to hand my dramas, large or small, over to God and realize that releasing them will bring me to a place of peaceful service.