Greetings from the world of macaroni-painted lambs who followed shepherds and glitter-infused angels and stars. It is a marvelous time in the school year (despite the golden sparkles, rainbow-coloured noodles, and hot glue whirlwind that threatens the usual order of our Kindergarten classrooms).
Between hunting through thrift stores to find our ugliest Christmas sweaters and slipping into our coziest Christmas pyjamas, we're busy putting the final touches on our pieces for the Christmas concert.
Some of us may be wondering if we'll make it through the performance without someone crying through the chorus of Joy to the World or falling off the stage as the audience enjoys the sweet sound of Silent Night. It's going to be ok, I tell myself. The performance by the K class is always worth the price of admission, whether they perform like a choir of angels or stage a wild-west style takedown in the fight for the microphone. Kindergarten almost always steals the show. In the end, your little crew has spent weeks memorizing a song of praise to God or passage of scripture that we can pray falls onto rich soil and stays with them for the rest of their lives.
Recently I've fallen victim to one of our great teaching occupational hazards, brain worms of classroom songs. Thankfully it's not, "Make a circle, make a circle, big and round..." but the words from Prince of Peace that my class will perform:
"Peace, be still, still, still."
We've sung these words hundreds of times in preparation for our Christmas concert. This particular phrase stands out and prompts me to take a deep breath and pause for a moment. I remember that this season is about stopping and thinking about the unimaginably great gift of Jesus coming into the world. The very idea that God became man who would be the Saviour of the world is incredible, awe-inspiring and beyond-words wonderful. He is so worthy of our time and attention.
O Lord, amidst the Christmas crafts, gingerbread math activities, and Nativity story book readings, help us to pause and remember the true reason why we celebrate.
I had my little crew act out the story the other day of Zechariah and Elizabeth. I used a few random items from the costume bin and the kids loved it. One precious girl said that she couldn't wait to go home and tell her mom how much fun she'd had "making the movie" about Zechariah and Elizabeth. It was in her mind, the best day ever. I loved the simplicity of it all and the peaceful feeling that came across the classroom with the young audience watching with rapt attention as the actors brought the Word of God to life.
Fellow teachers, we don't know how God can use words like "O come let us adore him" or "Peace, be still" twenty years from now. We don't know if someone will remember wearing a lab coat as Zechariah or modified balaclava as Mary and the joy they had acting out a portion of scripture. But we can pray that the seeds we've planted in little ones' hearts will inspire them to love God, His Word, and all that He has made.
So faithful servants, in the glitter whirlwinds and the white glue aftermath, press on. Do not grow weary in doing good for in due time it will reap a harvest. Your efforts are not unnoticed. Know that you are deeply loved by God who gave His most precious gift of all, His Son, so that you could enjoy an eternity with Him.
Peace. Be still.
Jesus is the reason we celebrate.
O come let us adore Him.
Stephanie Robinson is a Kindergarten teacher at Timothy Christian School in Barrie and an Edvance Peer Support Network Leader.