Each week, we write for five minutes, freely, on a one-word prompt. We write quickly, then post, a flash-mob linking together at Kate Motaung’s site. It’s fun!
This week’s prompt: STILL
Last week, my daughter came home from school frustrated. There had been a substitute teacher in one of her classes, and evidently this one was pretty high-strung and hopped up on fear… understandable for middle-school. My daughter reported that the sub was demanding silence during a time when the students are “always allowed to work together” (my daughter’s version). One of the boys in the back of the class responded by mumbling, “Oh, boy” and the teacher thought he said something about ebola.
This apparently caused one of her stretched nerves to snap. My daughter reported that she went on a four-minute (middle schoolers seem to time everything their teachers do) rant about how ebola is a “no joking matter”… how “you kids think everything’s funny”… how it’s a very serious disease and people are dying from it… how we need to be hoping for a cure or it just might “sweep across our country” too…
I’m told the class just stared at her, open-mouthed, then finally the same nerve-snapping student said, “Ummm… actually, I said, “Oh boy”.
The teacher pursed her lips (my daughter does an impression) and spit out a terse, “Well… still.”
End of conversation. The students went back to work. Silently. Because who can argue with that?
We laughed at the miscommunication and at the teacher’s response. But when I think about it… I just might pocket it into my own arsenal. Those simple words just might be quite an effective defense at times.
Like when I’m faced with the world’s chaos and I’m so rattled and unable to think clearly, I’ll pull out my simplest weapon: “Well, still.” Still, my God is on the throne. Still, this world does not have the final say.
And when the enemy’s cunning lies are in rapid-fire mode and I’m not sure what’s true anymore … I’ll just snap out the easiest response: ” Well, still.” Still, my God is with me and He IS the truth. Still, no matter I don’t have the right words, I know Who does. Who is.
And when I’m surrounded by my own failure and embarrassed, all I need to say is “Well, still.” Still, I don’t have to cower in shame. Still, I am valuable. Still, I am loved. Still, I can have expectations and hope.
Hmmmm… even “lame subs” can sometimes be the best teachers, still.