The Lord is my...

We were studying the Psalms, and when it came to Psalm 23 I was set. I knew this one by heart. David wrote it about how God always took care of him and refreshed him, dot dot dot. But then it hit me: David was a shepherd himself. Big deal. No no no, what I mean is he KNEW what he was saying about God...and himself.

He knew what sheep were like. He knew how stupid they could be, he knew how weak and helpless they were, he knew that they were easily distracted and painfully stubborn, remarkably silly and horribly unassuming. He saw daily the incessant shortcomings of the sheep he faithfully tended, and in those long days on the hillside he saw something of himself in his flock. He saw his weaknesses, his stubbornness, his utter stupidity sometimes...and he saw his desperate need for the Shepherd's crook to be a guide, a protection, and a comfort.

As I thought about David and his absolute humility in writing this psalm, I looked for a parallel in my own life. This is what I found.

...preschool teacher
based on Ms. Wauer's 2-year-old class at Shenandoah Valley Early Learning Center

Kiaya: the rebel - she bit, she hit, she stripped her clothes off every chance she got, and she climbed the playground fences in multiple escape attempts

Tyler: the absolutely precious-looking and completely misleading little hellian - always willing to disobey as long as someone was doing it with her

Chase: the unruly biter of the group, hitting and throwing himself down and banging his head on the concrete floor in tantrums, but would always look ashamed and remorseful after the fact

Nathaniel: the loner - he wanted to do everything his own way and would keep his eyes intently on you while he disobeyed to see how far he could get before being stopped

Jessica: the three-year-old who was still in the class because she couldn't quite speak the language yet (she was from Mexico) - sweet girl, but if there was trouble happening, she was very involved. she didn't want to be left out of the fun

Gia: the phenomenally articulate (she spoke even better than the 3's) and exceptionally strong little booger - she could not sit still and would not obey if her life depended on it - but she always ended her shenanigans with "Sorry, Teacher."

Justin: the one who was desperate for affirmation that he was doing it "right" - "You all need to sit down and be quiet." "Teacher, am I sitting down and being quiet?"

Grace: the aptly named little baby doll - she was quiet but giggly, was willing to play alone but would ask for some company, ate her lunch, took her naps, actually remembered the purpose of the bathroom, and LOVED storytime

The Lord is my preschool teacher. He watches me bite and kick the other kids. He stands over me when I refuse to lie down for rest, when I try to escape, when I constantly try to strip off my righteousness, when I disobey as much as possible before getting caught. Although I'm an "older" believer I still don't really know how to speak rightly, and I'm in constant and selfish need of affirmation. I know how to talk the talk, but I can't sit still for my life and when all is said and done I always rely on "Sorry, Teacher." I have my tantrums and I'm perfectly willing to get into trouble as long as I'm not alone in it. *sigh* To be like Grace.

But His patience never fails. His punishments are well-deserved but always loving. After all the fits and battles and bruises He always says, "I love you, I'll see you tomorrow."

"The Lord is My Preschool Teacher"
The Lord is my preschool teacher, I shall not want.
He makes me lie down and rest,
he keeps me from danger with rules and boundaries,
he restores my soul.
He teaches me new ideas and songs for His Name's sake.
Even though everyone I love leaves me alone,
I will not be afraid, because You never leave me;
Your voice and Your hands, they comfort me.

The Lord is my preschool teacher. Who is God to you?