Difficult Days, Grace-filled Days

Spirit week and the basketball tournament in February is one of the highlights of the school year at ICSB.  It’s a huge in our community life.  Lots of fun is had dressing in our PJ’s or having crazy hair.  Often it is coupled with the 100^th day of school and Valentine’s Day too.  This only adds to the excitement for the younger students.   As a school we host  four or five different schools both Christian and non-Christian from Europe and Russia to play basketball all weekend long.  Lots of eating, fellowship, cheering, special worship times, and Gospel sharing happen.    

 

My crazy hairdo

It was Thursday morning of Spirit week, crazy hair day and school spirit day.  I had gotten up early to do my hair.  It was tightly wrapped in little buns going down the middle of my head.  I had a full mind walking to school.  There was the Valentine’s party to throw in my classroom.  I had two moms coming to help.  There was some last minute things to prepare.  There was the pep rally in the afternoon to bring my students to.   I was walking in the school building at 7 am and my phone rang, the High School administrator.  That was strange.  I answered.  It was a call on the emergency-calling tree.  He told me the sad news that one of our 10th grade boys had died the night before.  Died! What?  That doesn’t just happen.  I thought.   Suddenly, my full mind was empty.  Empty with shock and grief over this new, this loss.   I had the responsibility of calling my roommate still at home getting ready for school.  She teaches high school.  I tell her.  Her voice cracks over the phone, “He was one of mine.  He was one of mine.“  My eyes filled with tears. 

There was a teacher meeting at 8am to discuss how to proceed with the day.  Proceed with the day.  How was I to have a Valentine’s party when a student has just died?  It all seemed wrong.  How was I to tell my precious little 7,8, and 9 year-old students?  Some of them knew the boy.  For one in my class he was like another older brother.  Some in my class didn’t know him. At the meeting, we were briefed on the details we knew, how we would share the news with students, and what help was available to us.  We prayed.  It seemed the only thing right about the morning.  Praying.  Crying out to God.   Then, it was time to face parents and students.  The halls of school were quiet, too quiet. There was a heaviness and sadness that was tangible.  It was hard to breath.  Before starting the day, one of the elementary moms grabbed me for a hug and prayed over me.  I am so thankful for that prayer.   Much of the day was blur.  The Valentine’s Party happened.  The Pep Rally happened.

I don’t pretend to have known the boy well.  I am not sure I even talked with him or that he knew me.  I knew his face.  He was a handsome young man and well-liked by his friends.  I knew his parents.  His dad is from the Midwest.  I stayed in his house and took care of his dog one summer.  I know that others were hurting so much deeper than me.  My hurt and pain was not always my own but for the students and his parents and older brother.  I was hard to see them bearing such pain and sadness.  Life shouldn’t be this way.  High school students shouldn’t die.  I couldn’t help but be brought back to my senior year of high school when a classmate of mine died suddenly and tragically six weeks before graduation.  It was a shock.  I knew her.  We had done our 5^th grade science fair project together on “How Light Bends.”  I hadn’t spoken with her in years, but it still hurt. 

The basketball teams arrived from Romania, Russia and Ukraine.  Some of them knew the boy too.  He had lived in Romania for many years and went to school there.  A lot of basketball was played in our gym and a lot of grieving happened too.  The ICSB teams played hard.  The older brother even played and his dad came to watch.  However, the death wasn’t far from anyone’s mind or lips.  There were counselors around and available to minister.  Students wrote memories and messages on a memory wall.  Another meeting was had to discuss the remainder of the weekend and moving forward.  How could we help students?  What issues need to be addressed?  What rumors do we need to dispel?  What communication and education needs to be given to parents?  More basketball games were played.  In the end, both ICSB boys and girls teams won the championship.  Then the basketball tournament was over.  The rush of adrenaline and excitement was gone. 

Tuesday school resumed.  Crisis plans were in place.  Additional counselors from the United States arrived to provide more support.  My elementary students had questions and fears.  I watched and paid attention to their emotions and body language more than usual.   I could see the fear and anxiety in one of my girls’ faces.  She was scared.  She’d overheard her parents talking.  She knew too much.  I tried to comfort her and give her truth- God’s truth.  Another girl was anxious because her best friend wasn’t at school.  Relief came over her face when I informed her she was home sick.   Another girl was very dreamy, and withdrawn.  She was the closest to the boy who died.  There was nothing normal about our day.  Yes, we had our lessons.  But nothing was normal.  I made parent phone calls about students visiting with the counselors.  Another teacher stepped in my room while I comforted and prayed for a student in tears.  After school I wrote emails telling parents how their daughter was coping.   Each day that week got a little better, a little more normal. The counselors continued to be available.  I spoke with boys who were sad and were spreading rumors about the death.  The counselors came and spoke to the elementary classrooms about emotions and healthy ways to express them.  They shared how the facts about how the boy died in an age appropriate way.  Again this stirred emotions of fear and worry in one of my girls.  The tears came again.  The counselor and I spoke with her and gave her truth- God’s truth about parents and families.  God was present giving us words to say.  Your prayers for grace and strength were felt.  

Church on Sunday was a worship time of remembering and pouring out our hearts to God.  Together as a body of Christ, a family we grieved, corporately.  We worshipped corporately as we sang truths, truths we needed, and truths I needed.

“When peace, like a river, attendeth my soul,
When sorrows like sea billows roll,

Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well with my soul”

And…

“When I stand before Your throne

Dressed in glory not my own

What a joy I'll sing of on that day

No more tears or broken dreams

Forgotten is the minor key

Everything as it was meant to be

And we will worship, worship

Forever in Your presence we will sing

We will worship, worship You

And endless hallelujah to the King “  (Endless Hallelujah by Matt Redman)

Many tears were shed.  Laughter and joy were shared as the boy was remembered well for his love of God, growth in his relationship, friendship, and love of animals.

A memorial service was held in the evening that week in the gym at school.  It was another time to grieve and remember.  His class paid a special tribute to him as each one of them sharing a special memory or characteristic of him during the service.  I went and hugged the parents.  It seemed so inadequate. 

My heart was heavy all week.  My emotions were up and down as I watched my students and other students grief and cope.  But I know, that God was with me each day.  I know that he gave me eyes to see into my students’ hearts when they were hurting.  He gave me words to comfort when I had none.  God gave the opportunity to care and listen and help these precious ones as they walked through this painful experience, which was special for me.  It is only because of God that I can say I survived those nine days.  His grace and mercy is sufficient.

The stories of how God was at work during this intense week are still being written and told.  “Spirit week” ended in a very different way any of us expected or anticipated.  The Spirit of God showed up as he comforted our community through this loss.  He was and is at work in our hearts.