Peaceful Chaos

Most of my day is cloaked in chaos.  From the moment the first bell rings at 8:00 am, it seems I am constantly surrounded by little ones who are completely and utterly dependent on me.  No matter how much I teach them to be independent and self-directed learners, it seems there is always someone who needs my attention, my help, or my company.

My morning passes in a whirlwind of chaos.  I'm kneeling on rough straw mats to help Alexandre pick out a book, I'm dodging buckets of dripping rainwater to get Etienne a new pencil, I'm leaning over the table to show Synthia how to glue her craft, I'm shouting over the noise of the school, the rain, and the crying preschoolers next door.

Some days, I can hardly wait for 1:00 to arrive so I can send the kids home, close the door, lock it tight, and just BREATHE for the first time all day.

But without fail, every time I close that door and lock it tight, not five minutes goes by before I hear an inevitable knock-knock-knock break through my thoughts.  I open the door, and there's Louis, wanting to look at books.  And pretty soon Melissa shows up wondering if she can listen to music.  And Carly wants a sticker.  And Etienne forgot his handkerchief.  And Isabelle's math book is torn -  can I tape it?  And Christella needs a chair, Stephanie needs a spoon, Adelson needs a pencil - can I lend him one?

Pretty soon, the high schoolers are home from school and Joan wants to borrow a book - have I translated anything new recently?  And Elsie needs help studying for an English test, Samuel forgot his book at home (can he return it tomorrow?) and Fabiola wants to chat.

Wait a minute - isn't this supposed to be my chance to REST?  What happened to my break - you know, the one that's supposed to be about PEACE and QUIET?

But it's those moments - the moments that I read with Louis, or listen to music with Melissa, or tape up Isabelle's math book, or do English with Elsie, or chat with Fabiola - that I find a different kind of peace.

This peace isn't a lack of chaos.  It isn't a break from the noise.  It isn't a respite from the business.  This peace is loud - it's full of smiles and singing and laughter.  It's the peace of knowing that nowhere else in the world could be better than where I am right now, nothing else on the planet could be better than what I'm doing right now, and no one else on this earth could make me happier than the snotty-nosed, sticky-fingered, sweaty-faced little ones that occupy so much of my life.

It's the peace of being where God wants me, serving Him and loving others.

No, it's never quiet.  But it's beautiful.  And somehow it's peaceful.

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I will listen to what God the Lord says; He promises peace to His people, His faithful servants...
Psalm 85:8