There is a room at the high school I teach scripture in that reminds me of the study centre in my school. The same dank brick walls are there, scribbled with graffiti from students long graduated (or dropped out), the desks at the front have old text books scattered over them and the walls have occasional pictures on them that have nothing to do with anything at all.

In this classroom, we talk about things that remind me of the conversations from the same room at my school. We talk about faith, or a lack of it. We talk about music and love for it. We talk about friends and all the dramas that come with them.

It is amazing how little things can change, and how God is at work in such similar ways these days. It’s as if He reminds me that even though the school is different, that some things remain the same, and more importantly, He is the same no matter where I am.

I wonder who will teach in these same classrooms as years go by. I wonder who will share the gospel with teenagers. I wonder if hopeful words will be scrawled on the walls someday. And I’m so glad that the gospel is being taught in the school I once attended. I’m so grateful for the team at Dapto Anglican who spend time telling teenagers about Jesus in a school that so many people write off.

I’m grateful that God had a plan for me, and that the church never wrote me off. I pray that God will give me the grace and strength and perseverance to never give up on someone, just as they never did on me.

Such a strange classroom to be in.

Such a great God to serve.


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