My most recent read, A Chance at Childhood Again, states ” Every child knows that adults are bigger, stronger, more well-equipped and IN CHARGE. That’s a child’s secret to accessing heaven.”

So I’m SUPPOSED to let go?? I struggle with responsibility . . . One of my greatest fears is not coming through where I’m supposed to. Missing my responsibilities. Cause what if I was supposed to do it and I let it slip? . . . But if God’s the grown-up here, then that leaves me still a kid. I can do my best without worrying because Someone is there to help me pick up the pieces.

Four students were sent home for their parents yesterday with still indefinite outcomes (suspension? Expulsion?). And two others were expelled for other reasons. Not a great week for student retention. My heart is torn between wishing that each of these kids would stay and get the help they need here and between knowing that these children are a danger to a productive community and need different help than we’re currently equipped to give. We are not a counseling center or a juvenile delinquincy program - though we sometimes feel we should be.

Walking through the quad two days ago I almost stumbled over a dead half-a-kitten. I had to do a double take since cats are not common here and since half a small cat is a little tricky to recognize. But more easy to recognize is the meaning: half-animals are witchcraft omens here. When someone wants to curse you they cut a live animal in half and place it on your property. We have duly been cursed. I’m sure it’s not the first time, but it’s the most obvious. It doesn’t feel terribly frightening but neither does it seem as innocuous and silly as it would in the States. Witchcraft is real. It’s powerful and it kills people all the time. Satan has power and domination here in ways I have not encountered before. We see it all around; one student that is facing discipline is suspected of possession due to her actions. And I have regularly sat in chapel and watched students pour forth under-their-breath hateful and disturbing statements that seemed not to come from their own minds or volitions. When I pray for them silently, heavily and fiercely against demonic influence, their eyes can’t hold mine but dart anxiously. The spirits answering back in fear.

Two days ago I took an early morning prayer walk around campus as the sun was rising in orange glory. Our football pitch is circled by Scotticus’s running track. I passed the gates, the classrooms and quad and came back towards our house at one end of the pitch. The mountains rose dark and beautiful before me - our school hidden in their shadow valley. As I walked God gave me a vision - a vision of angels encircling our fence line, swords drawn, every ten feet. A vision of heavenly gatekeepers at our gate, guarding the chosen city of God. A vision of God’s glory around, before and behind the school. Is this a someday promise of what God has for us? Or a current reality that is hard to see?

Gunfire sounded as we lay in bed late last night and we were both up, dressing in moments. Nothing came from it, as usual - just normal town violence. But our hearts are ready for danger, ready for fear, no matter how peaceful life is. I plan, subconsciously, in seconds, how to get my kids out safely. David plans for the 400 others in our care. Have we missed something? What have we forgotten? Standing in our pitch black front yard moments later, I listen to the sounds of night life returning. The town calms back to normal as the gunfire is not repeated. And I remember what I have forgotten, what I so often miss. I am not in charge here. God is the grown-up and I am the kid who is trying but who will stumble, forget, and be normally inadequate. My best plans will fail and yet He will come through.

And so, it seems, that the vision of our guarding angels wasn’t anything too extraordinary - just a glimpse of normal life here at school, that I usually forget to see. His watchmen are guarding us, because our Daddy would NEVER leave us alone. We will forget, lose track, and fail - He stands sure and ever-knowing.