A Dangerous Prayer

I had an epiphany-like thought at lunch today. I think I've found something more dangerous to pray for than praying for patience.

One of my students missed the first 6 days of school. His mom said that he had a sprained ankle, but didn't really like to use his crutches. He preferred to crawl around. After coming in twice to get the work he missed, she decided to send him to school today. His dad gave him a piggy-back ride to school. After he got his coat off and we got all his homework straightened out (some of it was done and some of it wasn't), it was time for him to head to breakfast. I laid down the law: In the classroom, he could crawl, hop, do whatever he needed to do. In the hall, he needed to use his crutches. It took us 10 minutes and not a few tears to get to the cafeteria. There is nothing between my classroom and the cafeteria, except for maybe a couple hundred feet of hallway. He kept complaining that his armpits hurt or his other leg was tired or whatever. The same thing happened in the middle of the morning when we went to the gym for recess. I finally ended up leaving him laboring down the hallway with the first-grade aide and the rest of the class went around him and down to the gym. After recess, he stalled out in the gym, pretty much refusing to go anywhere beyond the gym door. He and one other student had to go to a different reading class that was even farther down the hall than the gym. I left him there in the gym, took the rest of the class back to the room, and sent the other student in his reading class with both homework folders and instructions to "walk Victor down to your room." I don't want to know how long it took them to get there.

I came back from lunch to Victor laying on the floor in the hallway, hysterical, because he'd hit his leg on the wall or something. The principal was trying to get him to at least stop crying. After I got over my shock of seeing a principal actually doing something constructive, we got him calmed down and up off the floor. He didn't want to go to the gym with the rest of the students, so I let him stay in the room. He was building something with blocks and I was trying to get ready for the afternoon. I started to pray for patience with this kid, but stopped. He was already (unintentionally) pushing buttons and didn't need any help from God with that. So, my prayer became, "God, help me to love this kid." By the end of the day, I had become convinced that praying for help loving someone is a more dangerous prayer than praying for patience with someone.

Love (as defined by 1 Cor. 13) is a whole range of things, not the least of which is patient. So, really, praying for help in loving someone is praying for help in being patient, kind, not envious, non-boastful, humble, respectful (not rude), not easily angered or self-seeking towards that person. I'm pretty sure God threw every single one of those at me this afternoon in regards to Victor. Before my revelation at lunch today, I'd been praying every day for help loving this class. I think I'm going to continue with that prayer, but it almost makes me wonder what the rest of the week (year) is going to be like. . . .