Do you remember 7th grade Math? I sure do. And 8th, and 9th, and 10th and 11th, where I believe to this very day that my Math teacher was the antichrist. I used to wish Mr. So and So would get hit by a cab as he walked the streets of New York. Not that he, “walked the streets,” but you know what I mean.
I remember finishing an insanely long problem in said 11th grade Math, and after having gone through 4 or 5 pages of notebook paper I wrote a little victory note to my teacher at the bottom. I felt victorious because even though it was an extensively complicated problem and ALL work had to be shown, I had done it. I had completed the task. His note back to me? “All those pages and you still got it wrong.” No lie.
This is why I’m not a doctor… too much Math.
Age and brain atrophy have impeded my ability to help my 7th grade son with his Math homework. Thank God he has a fabulous teacher, smart friends, and Google.
But I’ve got my own obstacles to face. And I have a fabulous teacher, too. He is always in class. He never sends a sub. He lets me come early and stay late. He lets me make up tests. He even gives extra credit. He is the answer to every problem, no matter how complicated.
He is my very present help in time of need (Psalm 46:1).
Oh God, I thank You for You!