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In my first year of high school (sophomore year, back when 9th grade was still in junior high), I was enrolled in an Honors Algebra class. Our teacher, Mr. A, was very serious about the fact that this was an “Honors” class. I mean, you could be forgiven if you didn’t bring a pencil in just a normal math class. But when you’re in HONORS Algebra that just didn’t fly.
Our class was held in a science lab. That meant that Mr. A had an office elsewhere and he arrived fresh to the classroom each morning, just as we did. My new friends and I decided that our super serious teacher needed some brevity injected into the day. So each morning, we’d get there before him, write something clever and witty on the board with chalk (like “Happy Friday!” with a big smiley face). Then we took ALL the chalk on the tray and buried it in this huge sandbox (they did classes on rocks and minerals in this room). It was like a big table with a box of sand on it, so you could dig around while standing). It was located in front of the room, next to the counter at which the teacher would stand.Mr. A erased our morning’s chalk art each day and then looked around for a piece of chalk. Of course, none was to be found. He would get rather frustrated and go somewhere (where ever it is that teachers go for more chalk) and get more.
This went on for the most of the school year. Then one day Mr. A was standing in front of the chalk-filled sandbox, randomly dragging his hand through the sand. Suddenly, his fingers came upon a piece of chalk. There were a few of us on the far side of the room that held our breath. “Uh oh, the jig is up,” we thought. We were sure he’d find ALL that chalk. He picked it up, gave it a slightly perplexed look, and set it on the chalk tray. That was it. It never really sunk in any further. Whew! We all let out a big sigh of relief.
Yes, we continued to torture Mr. A with the brilliant morning chalkboard greeting and hidden chalk for the remainder of the year. We still received harsh remarks for showing up to an honors class without a pencil. And by the end of the year, I think we kind of got to him. I recall one day when he actually drew a little smiley face in the middle of a zero.
That's what it seems like lately. Last week my 
If only it were that simple.
For as often I think I don't accomplish much, I just had to put this into writing. Consider it my Note-to-Self that says, "YES, I do get things done." During the past three days, the following things happened:
Do you ever feel that the circumstances of your life interfere with your plans? Do you believe that God has your life under His control? That would include circumstances. He may use circumstances we don’t like; those that are hard, painful, or even traumatic. Other times, they may just seem like small annoyances. But do you believe that God authors even these? Even the little irritations?
