talking in class ...

can I just tell you that my greatest flaw and greatest strength as a teacher are the same quality.

If you've every taught and been evaluated you have experienced a check off for something called "birdwalking" ...

"birdwalking" is when a kid can get a teacher off subject in order to avoid the subject at hand. When I was a younger teacher, I was very susceptible to this because I loved the kids. Now that I'm not as young a teacher- I don't fall prey to petty little sideswipes ...

but last week, I saw an opportunity. The question was for another class ... what is the boiling point in Celsius? I had just read this great quote from a Jim Cymbala book that described the refining process for silver. The temperature for melting silver is +960 degrees. The fire has to be really hot for silver to release the dross. As I was telling the story, I realized I had them. The story had their attention. And I know for some of them, the fire is hotter than it's been in their short lives. Divorce. Illness. Conflict. Hormones- some that's working overtime, some that's not kicked in at all. Homework. Teachers. Friends. Sports. Activities.

The heat rises with each and everyday. And as I spoke their needs out of my mouth, I could see the hurt.

My question to them was my question to myself. Am I going to let the heat burn me up or am I going to let the Master Silversmith have his way with me. Skim the dross off. Put me back into the fire. Skim the dross off. Am I going to be thankful for the process that the heat takes me through or am I going to curse it? Am I going to jerk around, pitch a fit, stir the pot  .... so that the process takes longer. Reintegrating the dross into the silver of my heart? We each answer that question for ourselves.

This week- the heat was turned up. A friend hurt my feelings. The dross that rose was self-centeredness in me. My husband said some words that hit my heart hard. The dross that rose was unforgiveness. For a couple of days, I thrashed around like a toddler ... mixing everything back up. It's shown itself as pouting, whining, complaining, feeling sorry for myself. Ugly.

Today, the Lord reminded me that I'm in the middle of a process and He's still at work. I want to be finished. He was me to be sanctified.

The final process the silversmith goes through is the polishing of the refined silver. He polishes and polishes until he can see His own reflection.

This week, I'm sure when Jesus looked into my heart, He did not see His reflection, but rather just me. Amy ... staring back at him with angry eyes.

I'd say we're not done with the dross process.