sticky thinking

Today, standing in our classroom after school, I realized something. I live a very sticky life.

At that moment in time, my hands were sticky from holding the hand of a truly darling child who had been eating an apple. My pants leg was sticky from another student's juice spill. The crowning touch was the sticky goo in my hair, contributed by a child who hugged my head with pudding on her hand as I tied her shoe.

It was a very sticky day. On any given day, at some point, it is guaranteed that my hands will get sticky with one thing or another. (Only on a lucky day will only my hands be sticky. On a normal day...anything goes.)

I'm very lucky to live this sticky life. You see, the stickiest things in life are frequently also the sweetest. Toffee, caramel, jam... All sticky. My students...sticky, but sweet, for the most part.

I'm happy to have sticky hands, and pants, and even hair. For this stickiness is a sign of some seriously sweet blessings in my life.

It's summer as of 1:30 tomorrow. We all need the break. I'll be happy to have it, I know. But I will miss my sticky life in our classroom.

I will worry. Do they have enough to eat? Are they getting enough attention? Do the summer school teachers understand the words they use that mean something else? Is their home stable? Is their electricity on? Will they move over the summer without me knowing where, or saying good bye? Are they lonely?

I will pray. For protection. For stability. For someone to care. For provision. For retention of skills. For another chance to hold their sticky hands.

Day in and day out, these are my blessings. My sticky, sweet, ornery, stubborn blessings. I am used to being there for them. Letting go for the summer is very hard on my heart. Summer has its own blessings, its own share of sticky, but just as my students need the routines of our classroom, I know my life needs it, too. My heart is held tightly by all that sticky.