The other day I was standing in my classroom just having one of those days. (Just like the night before that and the day before that...I was a mess. Like, lucky-I-remembered-my-pants, kind of mess.) I'm rushing around cleaning not-so-washable marker from the tables (for the third time that morning), setting out cots for nap time, trying to coax the class into cleaning up, reminding boy1 that we aren't allowed to shoot the girls (even in pretend), taking a toy from girl1 and returning it to girl2 who had it first, getting boy2 out of the bathroom sink and girl3 into the bathroom to go potty, reassuring girl4 that her boo boo isn't terminal, and rescuing boy3's little nose from being punched by girl5's little fist because 'he said a bad word to me' (something horrible like 'poopy' or 'banana head'), all while maintaining an "appropriate Teacher vocal level". Which is supposedly somewhere between nun and fairy princess...or so I'm told.
At this point I've decided that I was completely insane when I signed up to teach eleven, three year olds (the jury's still out on that one) and that I'm way under qualified for the job. Somewhere in the middle of all of that, I stopped and was pulling up my, desperately-needs-cut-and-I'm-about-to-use-safety-scisors, hair. I turn around and one of my little girls is looking up at me smiling and says "Miss Rebek'o (she's three give her a break) you're beauuuteefull!" and then she thought about it and adds, "Just like me!" In the craziness of the moment I smiled and said "Yes, you are very beautiful!", but as I was thinking about that moment later that day God showed me how honest and raw that image of my three year old really was. I'm rushing around doing my 'grown up' things, with my 'grown up' worries, and 'grown up' stresses, and the little pressures of my day are adding up to make me feel completely inadequate. In my eyes I was a mess and I was making a mess of my job, but in the innocent eyes of a three year old I was beautiful, we all were. I realized that's exactly how God see's us. No matter how much of a mess we've made, or think we've made, of things God only sees us as beautiful. It's so easy to get distracted by the daily grind that sometimes we forget whose we are. We are God's and He made us beautiful. He doesn't see the mess in us, and that's beautiful.
At this point I've decided that I was completely insane when I signed up to teach eleven, three year olds (the jury's still out on that one) and that I'm way under qualified for the job. Somewhere in the middle of all of that, I stopped and was pulling up my, desperately-needs-cut-and-I'm-about-to-use-safety-scisors, hair. I turn around and one of my little girls is looking up at me smiling and says "Miss Rebek'o (she's three give her a break) you're beauuuteefull!" and then she thought about it and adds, "Just like me!" In the craziness of the moment I smiled and said "Yes, you are very beautiful!", but as I was thinking about that moment later that day God showed me how honest and raw that image of my three year old really was. I'm rushing around doing my 'grown up' things, with my 'grown up' worries, and 'grown up' stresses, and the little pressures of my day are adding up to make me feel completely inadequate. In my eyes I was a mess and I was making a mess of my job, but in the innocent eyes of a three year old I was beautiful, we all were. I realized that's exactly how God see's us. No matter how much of a mess we've made, or think we've made, of things God only sees us as beautiful. It's so easy to get distracted by the daily grind that sometimes we forget whose we are. We are God's and He made us beautiful. He doesn't see the mess in us, and that's beautiful.
Laughing until I cried, .....so true tho, God sometimes just needs to show us ourselves thru the eyes of a child, just how He sees us....Beautiful!.... Oh yeah and don't cut your hair with safety scissors, it causes split ends...love you!
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