In the midst of holding together a chaotic first grade classroom today I realized that time is a necessary process within the art of teaching. There was no way that smooth transitions and awe inspiring lessons would occur on the first day of class. Today was the my third day with them and I think I almost caught 20 seconds of silence as some kind of information, I assume, was flowing into their little minds. The rest of our time was spent with reminders about talking out of turn and roaming around the classroom and staying on task. Three of them have cried because I held them accountable for their choices. I hate holding them to the consequences more than they hate receiving them. My conscience reminds me, however, that allowing their disobedience of the rules would be hurting them even more.

So when does it happen? When will they be happy to learn the vital information I am required to give them? When will they be ready to set their attention on the lessons I have prepared? How do I turn their entertainment-geared learning tenticles to a direction that teaches them the value of self-motivation and discipline? How do I inspire these young hearts to dig and to search for truth? How do I guide them to solve problems that they deal with every day? My goodness, these kids are only in first grade!

One day at a time. One lesson at a time. One moment. One look. One hug. And somehow, someday I'll be able to teach them what they really need to learn. The information will get through to them not because I told them, but because I built a bridge and showed them how to cross it. A bridge cannot be built in a day. But it can be built. It will be built. God help me build it.