The following stories, anecdotes, and glimpses into my new life cohere together to create a feeling my best friend Laura calls being fully alive. (Shout-out to Saint Irenaeus of Lyons, who coined it first: "The glory of God is man fully alive.") I am, perhaps for the first time, in that state of feeling fully alive, and it is so
glorious (pun intended) I don't ever want to leave.
First: Spanish. I have always loved this language. Even when the subjunctive verb tense threatened to undo me, I still thought it was beautiful. Moving to Nigeria, I realized, would not give me much opportunity to use my Spanish, but here I am, nonetheless.
On Sunday I remarked to Jan (my flatmate) that I might like to introduce a Spanish language and culture club to the school in the Spring, because I miss speaking it so badly. Maybe some of the students would enjoy learning a new language, in addition to the French they already take in school.
But then again, my God knows me well. Even before a word is on my tongue, my Lord knows it altogether. (Psalm 139:3-4)
Yesterday, ICS received a new student in 3rd grade. He is from Cuba, and doesn't speak any English at all. Guess who his new ESL teacher is?! I've been designated to help him find his feet as quickly as possible, and couldn't be happier with the prospect.
I found him on the playground today and introduced myself in Spanish. He didn't say much, but then after school when his father came to pick him up, Gabriel brought him to me and introduced us. We had a full conversation in Spanish, and I managed not to confuse my verb conjugations too much!
This is fully alive - using a passion that God has given to benefit someone else. Glory to God!
Second: representing Wheaton. The college fair went well yesterday. I think there were a few hundred students there with their teachers, from schools all over Abuja. We brought our 15 10th-12th graders, but there were easily 10 other schools there. I gave my little presentation in the morning session ("Deadlines are fixed, not fluid...") and everyone was very attentive. I wasn't nervous, but my kids told me afterward that I spoke too fast. I suppose some habits die hard.
When the tables were open later in the day, I settled in, expecting a few kids to stop by and ask a question or two. I did not expect the floods of students flocking to me because they'd seen me on stage, or the rapid-fire questions about studying medicine and law in the U.S., or the frenzy to sign up on the Wheaton list, even though they knew nothing about the school! I recognized some patterns in them that I've learned are classically Nigerian, and I finally refused to give them handouts unless they listened to my explanation of Wheaton.
Oh, my dear friends, please tell me how to explain the concept of a liberal arts college to a young man who wants to get to America at any cost, regardless of the fact that his English is virtually incomprehensible. Please also tell me how to inform two Muslim young women that Wheaton is a Christian school and accepts only Christian students. Given the dual nature of this city, I found that a particularly difficult burden.
The fair was organized like any typical American college fair, but the students brought the Nigerian flavor. Most of them approached my table and held out their hands, face-up, for whatever paperwork I would give them. Most did not greet, or ask questions, or even bother to look at what college I was representing. They just wanted the information, quick and dirty.
As frustrated as that left me, I thought about the possibilities of that day. Even if just one student follows up on the information I gave him, and goes to the website, or emails the Admissions Office for more information, it will be one more student that would never have heard about Wheaton otherwise.
And that's all my job is - to tell people about an experience that changed my life and that could change theirs, too. Besides, I don't think the Admissions Office can afford to send a counselor out this way very often, and since I'm already on the ground...
This is fully alive - to testify to the ways God changed your life by using the college you attended, and to know that the telling brings glory to the One who ordained it.
Third: Drama Club. We're already preparing our presentation for the Christmas program - The Nativity. Today, I taught 20 1st-3rd graders the song "We Three Kings." Then I convinced Kamsi to be an innkeeper, Tasneem to be a Wise Man, and Anisa to be a shepherd, even though all 3 wanted to be angels. Kamsi and Tasneem didn't take much convincing - I just told them that the angel parts require very little acting, so we needed to utilize their incredible acting talents for the more difficult roles (which, let's be honest, was speaking a little prophetically).
Tasneem's response? "You mean you give me the important part because you know I can do it?" Yes, my dear little one, and because the birth of Christ was attended by more than just 20 Nigerian angels.
Little Anisa didn't want to be a shepherd, but when I asked her if she was a very good big sister, she assured me she was. "All right, then," I explained, "Shepherds have to be very responsible people. They have to protect their sheep at all costs. And in the drama, they have to lead the other students onstage. Do you think you can handle that responsibility?" In response, I got a huge smile and the sweetest little neck-strangling hug there ever was.
This is fully alive - making my precious little ones proud of themselves. His Kingdom belongs to such as these, I get to love on them and receive love in return. Glory to God!
Fourth: Sixth Grade. This class can be talkative to the point of disrespect, and mischievous to the point of amusement. Days with them are a toss-up; it's just as likely to end in frustration or glee. Today was tough. The four loudest boys could not keep their mouths shut. While I followed the guidelines Mrs. O taught us yesterday at our staff training on discipline and told the boys to talk to me after class, they still didn't quiet down. After class, I sent them all out into the hall, and before I could even open my mouth to tell them how disappointed I was in their behavior, I began to affirm them. Respect and love, not anger or disappointment, controlled my voice, and I found myself telling the boys that they steer the behavior of the rest of the class. "You four boys are a very powerful group," I told them, "and if we work together, everyone else will follow you, too. But if you're distracting, no one else will listen to me. I need you to help me keep the class attentive. Can you do that?" Of course, the boys nodded, they will help me keep order in the class, because I told them they have the ability to do it.
Now, tomorrow, we'll know if that approach worked, but I loved that I didn't have to yell or get angry or even show my disappointment in them. We ended the day on a happy note, those 4 and I, and that left me grateful.
This is fully alive - encouraging a child to his highest potential and expecting them to live up to it. To call out the best in someone else because God calls out the best in you makes me feel purposeful and satisfied. Praise the Lord.
And I just showed up for my own life
and I'm standing here, taking it in,
and it sure looks bright... - Sara Groves
