I was a second grader. I had a teacher who every morning would ask some of the students individually and in front of the class what time they went to bed the night before. Now I get it, bedtime and sleep are so important for a growing brain and and vital in helping to use that brain better. Do you know, that was over 50 years ago and the thoughts of that particular exercise is all I remember learning in second grade?
Because, I had parents who didn’t stress an early bedtime. I usually went to bed by 10:00 pm and rarely before that. It worked, I always felt rested when I awoke in the morning. I was really fine. Then, the dreaded question. If I was the “elected” one, I so dreaded telling her that I ended my previous day at 10:00 pm instead of her recommended 8:00 pm. Usually my stomach was in knots every morning as I waited to see who was going to be interrogated.
I am writing this to tell you what I learned in second grade. I learned how not to pray. Yes, you may think that something so traumatic would make me become really good at praying. I would every night go to bed and really beg God that Mrs. Davis (and why can I remember her name?) would not ask me the “question”. That was the only thing I consistently prayed for. Every night, without fail. So, why do I say I learned how not to pray? My observation was this. If I prayed for her not to ask me what time I went to bed and that was the only thing I asked God for before falling asleep, she did not end up asking me the dreaded question. However, if I prayed for her not to ask me what time and that I would be a good student, or that I would have a chance to share my faith with someone, or any number of other requests that I had to ask God for, I would be the one.
My prayer life as a second grader morphed into more like a rubbing of a genie lamp. It became superstitious. A sort of “if-then” game that seemed to work through the whole year.
I wonder what I missed. I wonder still what a person is supposed to learn in second grade. There is only one other moment I recall from that year in school; a classmate reading in front of the class was suddenly in a puddle. I do wonder if she had felt the same shame and embarrassment that I had felt being quizzed in front of the class about what time I went to bed.
I do know what I learned not based on curriculum. I learned a few things. I could not control what time I went to bed if I happened to be out with my parents. I was the youngest child and often times I was with my parents when they would go visit people in the evenings. We didn’t get back home many times before the chosen bedtime of Mrs. Davis. My dad was a pastor, my parents poured into people’s lives and often times that required spending evenings visiting other people in their homes. I didn’t have a choice of going or not going. So, I had no control. I was not in a position to tell my parents that Mrs. Davis requires that I get to bed by 8:00 pm and that they needed to cut their time short as they were possibly hearing the heartfelt concerns of the people they were ministering to.
I also learned that a person can have a huge impact upon one’s life without really even knowing it. Did Mrs. Davis cause me to want to go to bed by her chosen time? No! I never considered changing my habits based on her questioning. I only relied on my trusting that if I never asked God for anything else, He would give me the desired response. She taught me the wrong thing about God, I learned how to put limits on what I could ask Him for and shrunk Him down to a human sized figure that really could not multi-task.
I don’t think I ever told my parents about the frustration and the painfully embarrassing encounters I had in front of my class. If I had, they probably would have brushed it off as something I would just be able to handle. I did handle it, although maybe not the correct way. I developed a prayer life of knowing God was too small to be able to answer more than one thing I prayed for. If I asked for anything else, inevitably she would find me and ask the dreaded question.
Thankfully, I passed the second grade and moved on to a teacher who didn’t ask any pointed dreaded questions. But more importantly, over the years, I came to realize how big my God really is and how He can handle whatever I throw at Him. Did he take me through the second grade to develop me into a person of prayer? Was there a bigger purpose that I was supposed to be a part of?
Since the second grade, I would not even be able to start at telling you all of the prayers I have prayed and how God has answered them. Sometimes, when the prayers are not answered according to what I think is best, I will catch myself thinking I could have asked for too much. Maybe if I had stressed this one thing, it would have gone the way I thought it should.
Thankfully, that is not how God works. He loves us, He knows what is best for us. He understands our misunderstandings. He doesn’t allow us to go places that would cause harm when we think we know what is best. My list is never too big for Him.
