Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Love

Love is an emotion that suffuses me; it washes over me like the cleansing rain. I am filled with it, replete with it; it is an airy substance that is insubstantial and yet integral. Love comes upon me in waves, like an ocean. It rises and subsides. I feel love for my children.

I find that I feel love for what I admire. I admire my children because I think the way that they try so hard is amazing. I am impressed by their effort and by the amazing results they produce. I find their insights and their questions to be fascinating. I am thrilled and touched by how their minds work. I love these questions that are so simple and yet to which I often have no answer. Oftentimes I simply haven't thought of them before.

I also find that I feel love for something beautifully executed. When I see a sport played to perfection, when I see a play performed with joy and integrity, when I see somebody transformed by who they become when they are lost within the passion and the joy of an experience, I feel a surge of love towards them, sometimes even a oneness with them.

In these moments, all I want to do is find a way to pass on this feeling of gladness and joy to the children who create the feeling in me. I want them to see how much I value them and their achievements and accomplishments. I want them to realize that I love that they climbed the mountain and that I think the sight of them standing on the tip is breathtaking. I want them to see how incredible I think they are. In these moments, what I want to do most of all is share.

I admire my children. I admire the effort they put into their work, their questions, their intelligence, their passions and the things which they do well. I find them to be made in the image of God and I find that this shines through whether they wish it to or not. I am gladdened by them and I find my days to be less weary because of them.

They also make me laugh. They entertain me and their antics in class amuse me. We have the "Sassy Much?" slogan in one class and various other catchphrases in other classes. I'm still working on learning how to be better at classroom discipline and firmness, but I know I've got the love part down. And I know that this is what drives me when I feel sad.

Who knew that love for a child could be such an uplifting force? It's not even a child's love for me. I'm not in their hearts and I don't know what they feel. But I know what I feel towards them and even that is enough to make the difference. They are treasures- sometimes frustrating, disrespectful, authority-challenging, difficult people- but treasures nonetheless. And I feel like God has Chosen me to work with them and I struggle to try to ensure that I am worthy of His Choice.

Love floats banners and carries ships; it buoys me up and sinks my discomfort. It is the magical antidote to misery, and for me there is something specific to the love of children that makes it matter more.

Things that Move Me

-Watching my blondish brown haired boy with a basketball in his hand, performing the most graceful, elegant dance possible as he speeds down the court, performs multiple passes and then swishes the ball through the net. This dance is gorgeous and I feel like I'm watching a thing of beauty when I see it.

-Reading projects that my children turn in to me and realizing that they are full of incredible insight and depth. I feel like I am standing in the presence of greatness and this in turn makes me feel indebted to them. My children spill over with spiritual potential and insight, and I love that I get to witness this and am a party to that sparkle of God that rests within them.

The love that I feel towards my children is more consuming than almost any other feeling I have and it is one that fills me with joy. I feel uplifted and excited upon witnessing their accomplishments and I am thrilled by everything that they do well in. I am glad to be a part of their lives and I feel like the edges of our pictures meet, so that my Polaroid corner blurs a bit into theirs. And for this I am grateful.