When I first started teaching, the Lord made clear to me two things:
1. This was temporary.
2. Be there for the one.
This may come as a surprise to you, but teaching is not my forté. I enjoy early mornings and long walks on the beach, but appearing bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at 7 a.m. for high school students doesn't have the same appeal.
As someone who struggles with high-functioning generalized anxiety disorder and depression, this is especially a challenge. I am thankful I don't suffer from the fear of speaking in front of a classroom, but nevertheless, my mental struggles can often make it difficult.
On the outside, I am put together. Poised, organized, and sophisticated. But my students don't see the nerve endings inside my mind firing over time. They don't hear my heart thumping. They don't see my body shaking from the inside out. They don't know my struggle to get everything done right now.
During my first year of teaching, a student accidentally caught a book on fire in my room. I was working at a private Christian school at that time, so I was thankful when the principal thought the situation was hilarious. But the fire I saw flaming from my projector that day has never left me. And now, everything is on fire at all times.
Papers in the tray? They need to be graded now.
Students just took a test? They need to be entered into the system now.
High-Quality Student Data required for the next four semesters? With flashing red lights, they need addressing right here, right now.
Yet, amid the stress, amid the calling, I feel led to write full-time. Amid the chaos of working in a public school, the second thing the Lord has made clear to me is to be the one, even, and especially while, I'm in this temporary place. Even when I feel like I'm less than qualified to be the one they need.
In Matthew 18:12, the Parable of the Lost Sheep speaks of this message. As Jesus' words, written in red, spoke this connection over me, let them speak over you today:
"If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them wanders away, what will he do? Won’t he leave the ninety-nine others on the hills and go out to search for the one that is lost? And if he finds it, I tell you the truth, he will rejoice over it more than over the ninety-nine that didn’t wander away! In the same way, it is not my heavenly Father’s will that even one of these little ones should perish" (Matthew 18:12-14, NLT).
At a glance, this passage has nothing to do with teaching. It has nothing to do with working a job that exhausts your mind. It has nothing to do with suffering from anxiety or depression. And you might be right. Maybe it doesn't.
But when I recently read these verses, I felt the Lord speaking something new over me.
Shepherds have a challenging job. Tending, caring for, and leading sheep is no easy task. The fact that sheep often go their own way and defy authority makes it even more disheartening. And yet, if one of them stumbles, if one of them loses their way, gets lost, or runs away, their master still drops everything to find them.
To humanity, this makes no sense. If there are ninety-nine sheep in the pen, and one runs away, why is that one so valuable? Wouldn't it be more important to keep the ninety-nine you already have? Yes and no.
The ability of the shepherd to go after the one proves that all sheep matter to him. He loves them. He cares for them. And he will do whatever it takes to rescue them when they are lost—even when they are disobedient.
The ability of the shepherd to go after the one also illustrates that if he weren't to go after the one, one by one, they would all disappear:
"Oh, there are still ninety-eight."
"Oh, there are still seventy-five."
"Oh, there are still fifty."
"Oh, there are still twenty-five."
You get the point.
The shepherd's choice to go after the one illustrates so much more than just the one he's leaving the ninety-nine to find. It demonstrates to us the love we should have for others, even when they often go their own way. And as a teacher, I have felt this immensely.
Because teaching is a temporary career for me, there are many days I feel hopeless. I lose sight of writing full-time and feel weary with the demands of a job that I don't see myself doing forever.
But over the last four years of teaching, God has revealed that while this position may be temporary, my calling to be there for the one is not.
So when I teach, it is for the one.
When I write, it is for the one.
And there is always that one.
During my first year of teaching, the one wasn't as clear-cut to me. I knew I was working with many Christian students, but I often felt drawn to those who attended this private school and still weren't followers of Jesus.
As I transitioned from private to public school, my second year of teaching felt like chaos. We were the only school to go face-to-face full-time during and after COVID-19, and teaching at a new school was overwhelming.
But during that second year, God pointed out the one. They felt it too.
And He pointed out the one in the third year. And they felt it too.
And He pointed out the one in the fourth year. And they felt it too.
Over the last four years, I've experienced a lot of growth. I've seen how my God is working through and in me at a public school, and I am often overwhelmed with His blessings.
But more than anything, I know now that no matter where we are or what we are doing, Jesus calls us to leave the ninety-nine for the one.
It might look different for you, and that's okay. What matters is your response to His inquiry.
As the Passion Translation summarizes:
“The Son of Man has come to give life to all who are lost. Think of it this way: If a man owns a hundred sheep and one lamb wanders away and is lost, won’t he leave the ninety-nine grazing the hillside and thoroughly search for the one lost lamb? And if he finds his lost lamb, he rejoices over it, more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. Now you should understand that it is never the desire of your heavenly Father that a single one of these little ones should be lost." Matthew 12:11-14
Being the one doesn't always look like only sharing the Gospel. It looks like illustrating the Gospel well.
Being the one doesn't always look like influencing the masses. It looks like sharing your heart with the one who needs to hear it most.
Being the one doesn't always look like doing what's popular. It looks like doing what is right when no one else is looking.
Being the one doesn't always mean knowing who you're there for. But it does mean being open to how the Lord will use you to impact the one while you are there.
Be the one today, my friend.
Be the one you need.
Be the one they need.
And be the one He's called you to be.
Agape, Amber
Photo Credit: ©GettyImages/Joaquin Corbalan