Teaching a Primary class really makes me wonder sometimes how much of a difference it really makes. I don't know why it's so difficult to teach five 8-year-olds when I should be able to handle twenty-five, but it is. I've realized that nobody has a perfect class. When my dad was visiting, he taught the class with James while I subbed for piano in Sr. Primary. His remark was that about five minutes of total class time is spent making profound comments, because general chaos rules the rest of it.
God must feel that way about teaching us. How often are we too busy doing something else and not listening to a thing he's trying to tell us? During those "5 minutes" when we're actually paying attention, we can make great progress. If we're not paying attention, we miss out.
I know I could always be a better teacher, but the Holy Ghost already is a perfect teacher. Having a perfect teacher is still no guarantee that the "student" will learn anything.
Those "5 minutes" are worth the other 40 that I spend teaching those boys. They are learning the Gospel slowly, but surely. They know more about the truth than 99% of the world's adults.
Every calling, no matter how small (or unofficial), makes a difference. I'm glad to be a Primary teacher and part-time pianist. I've learned a lot this year, even though I should already know the stuff I'm teaching!
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