From the seat of 3rd grade, the world is not right

Today I subbed for a third grade class. It was awful. I can't describe it any other way. Subbing always reminds me how much I respect men and women who have chosen teaching as a career. This class was full of hurting little boys. At 9, hurt comes out in disrespect, defiance, noncompliance, and a host of other displays that make the sub want to hide under the desk and pretend someone else is in charge.

I believe everyone is born with a sin nature--I see it in high-speed action on the days I sub. But I also cannot help but wonder how these kids would act if they had a stable home life. Parents that taught them how to respect. Parents that required them to obey and gave consequences when obedience was not chosen. How many of those little boys I struggled with today have a male figure in their life that is stable, let alone a male figure of integrity, love, and wisdom? I'm guessing none of them do, and it breaks my heart that this is the norm for a lot of American kids. It breaks my heart that their are thousands and thousands more kids across the world whose turbulent home waters are not subdued by the presence of a loving teacher. Kids who don't get to go to school, don't get fed, die alone and abandoned in streets. It happens. It happens every. single. day.

I'm rambling, and I don't have a direction or a theme. My heart is broken; I am tired. I breathe a prayer for mercy. For me. For them. I beg that in some small way, I will love into the brokenness of this world. Let my every moment speak of You, Jesus, You who alone can heal the ripping wounds that tear so early in a life.