I am only 42 years old, but I am looking forward to dying. I am in no way implying I want to die or that I would ever attempt to take my life. I am only asserting and assenting to what I know to be true through biblical revelation and personal experience: this world is sick with sin. I am looking forward to meet my Savior one day, and when I see Him, I know all the suffering of this life would have been worth it.

It is providential that God has allowed me to interact with some students who out of the blue have interest in the Bible. These are ten year-old boys. Here I was thinking my days of preaching the gospel were gone. After all, I am a single mom and I have a full time job. I really can’t spend all my time “ministering” to the needs of others. For the last two years, I have put my head down to the plough. I know I need to work and make a living. I also know my Christian duty is to love God and others, but how exactly can you love others while teaching Math to 5th grade students? Like yes, I get it. I can glorify God through my gifts, but it is not like teaching fractions leads to conversations about spiritual things on a regular basis. You know what I mean?

I have just lived life. That is all I do. But recently, a boy began asking me questions about Jesus. He is faithfully reading his Bible every day, and as far as I know, he wants to understand who this Jesus is. Was I supposed to say, “I am sorry, but this is beyond my pay grade? I cannot and will not talk to you about Christ for fear of losing my job because this is a public school?”

Of course not. I engaged him. And then other boys came. I told those boys to walk away, I was talking to this one particular boy about the Bible, about a question this boy had. But the other three boys said, “We want to know, too. We want to be part of this Bible study.”

“No. This is not a Bible study. I am just explaining the sacrifices in the Old Testament and how Jesus is THE High Priest, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world. This is not a Bible Study.”

I have been so busy with life, with pain, with sorrow, with STAAR testing… so very busy, I even forgot I had a miscarriage four years ago. I forgot. I literally forgot. And that was good. It was good because it means I was not anticipating the day, or dreading the date. It is good because it means that life goes on and that there are other challenges ahead. Life does not stop and life is worth living – regardless of the pain one goes through. Only God can make life worth living. It is good because even though I lost a baby, God has been good to me. It is good because now, even though there are other challenges, I am not dead.

My Shepherd is preparing a table for me in the presence of my enemies. Even though He makes me walk through the valley of the shadow of death, He walks with me. I am not alone. Sometimes I do feel alone, but I am not. There are people who love me and care for me.

My Savior lives.