The longest day in my school career was the first day of seventh grade. After spending a great summer hanging onto remnants of being the oldest ones in elementary school, today I was entering an unknown, an area that although we had endured an orientation, we were too cool to pay attention to. And while searching for the right door to go in, recognized a girl who for the last year I had accused of having cooties. But something about her had changed over the summer, maybe those were cooties. But both being alone in a strange land, we talked-awkwardly until other friends showed up, and then the bell rang-and horror set in.
Homeroom-where we would get an assigned seat, which would happen in every class we would go to today. For we were in seventh grade, and no amount of thirteen year old maturity would help now. It was every man for himself. And as you struggled to open your locker, strategically located at the other end of the school from where most of your classes were, you struggled to remember your lock combination, that you had thoughtfully written down on your notebook, which was now safe and securely locked in your locker. But again you weren't alone. And the fastest three minutes of your life were about to take place as you went on to your next class.
And you would repeat the process several times during the day, broken up only by lunch. Where 500 of you would juggle for position, trying to find a seat without dropping your tray full of food, while balancing the books you should have stored in your locker-if only you had the combination. And the one place they should have given you an assigned seat, they didn't. So you ended up eating fast, with people just like you-dazed and confused, and got your first real education of the day-school lunches. And how nu-trition equated to no-flavor. Exaggerated only by the fact you were starving. And wondered if lunch would always mean crowd control. And instead of recess after, you had another class.
And finally, the final bell, and it was time to go home. But first-how to open your locker, which some eighth grade girl was equipped to help you with. And suddenly you felt so young, immature, and helpless. And as you looked at the books in your locker, you wondered what you were in for. The books said US History, Biology, Algebra, and Literature. Whatever happened to the classes on my schedule? Social Studies, Science, Math, and English? Add in the fact that recess now was called gym, doing pushups, jumping jacks, and other exercises, and the best part of school was gone-lunch and recess. Plus you had to then take a shower-with everyone looking at you! Whatever happened to privacy laws? Get me outta here!
But the cruelty didn't end there. You had homework. And what was with this reading 30 pages every night-in each subject? No more after school playing-you were on the edge of adult hood now. And after dinner the same. No TV, no stereo. It was homeWORK. As if they hadn't punished you enough in school, they were now invading your home. And for only five days a week, for the next 10 months, you would have the same routine. No wonder eight graders looked so much older-seventh grade had taken so much out of them. And you felt all alone and realized for the first time no one really cared about you-or they wouldn't make you go back tomorrow for more. Your only solace was that all your friends were suffering the same. Even the girl with cooties. If only you could mature like she had.
If we had only known then what we do now-most of the injuries of that first day of school, and of life, were self inflicted. If we would only grow at their rate, not ours, and realize nothing more was expected from us than had been from previous classes. I know Christian friends who are like that, always trying to get ahead, but end up trying just to keep up. Rather than letting God lead, they first take it upon themselves to set up a regimen, that God never asked for. Learn the laws, know the rules, and wonder why others grow in God, but they don't, despite their superior knowledge, Bible Study, prayer time, and church attendance. They do all the right things, except the one thing that actually teaches them anything-they exclude God. They don't let Him lead. It's just another routine and not personal. But they strike out on their own, and end up later saying "this God thing doesn't work. Too much work." And they are right-and wrong. If you let God lead, He leads next to you. Jesus says His burden is easy, and to take His yoke-let Him lead. And suddenly you don't find yourself late for class. You remember the locker combination, and you can eat, visit, and still get to your next class on time. You are relaxed and confident, so when the girl who matured over the summer sees you, she will see that you have matured also-in the Lord.
Education never ends, although you may earn a degree. Maturity only ends at death, until then you have your whole life to get closer to God. And to spend it with Him. Try God today-at His pace. Let Him lead, and you follow. Enjoy the day, and the days to come.
God will never expect more from you than you can handle. A lesson you wish those first teachers of yours would have learned. But you can only grow through change, and only mature through growth.
And just think-after you master seventh grade, you are older and wiser for eighth and ninth-then onto high school where the pattern starts all over again.
Enjoy today. God gives you a seventh grade for a reason. It prepares you for what comes after. Just like Jesus-He will stay closer than a friend, never leave you in the hall alone, and get you to the next class on time. And eternity awaits-your graduation day!
Say, wasn't Jesus home schooled? Do your homework!
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com