Dear colleague,

As a young man who envisioned becoming a teacher one day, I thought of thriving as having my act together—no balls dropped, all systems humming, a classroom where all outcomes could be assured so long as I did a good enough job.

And then real teaching happened.

Now, twenty years in, the messy reality of teaching is an old friend of mine. Scattered is the word that comes to my mind—scattered student readiness levels, scattered classroom dynamics, scattered documentation and extracurricular demands, scattered energies. 

But this scattered nature of our work makes me think with fondness of the parable of the sower. In Jesus’ story, the farmer “scatters” the seed (Mt 13:4). He doesn’t do a detailed soil analysis nor grab a measuring tape to ensure equidistant planting. 

Instead, he scatters. There is a relaxedness to the farmer’s labors. He’s working, but he’s not stressing out. He clearly cares about his work, but not in a soul-draining manner.

To my productivity-oriented mind, this seems almost reckless. I think, Shouldn’t he be more intentional? Shouldn’t he better aim his planting at the ground that guarantees a greater yield? And shouldn’t teachers do likewise?

But Jesus offers no critique of the farmer. His emphasis instead is on the reality with which the farmer’s simple-seeming actions partner. Seeds do grow, given the right conditions. The scattered sowing is the precondition to growth, but the growth is a power unto itself—one that comes not from the farmer but from the Father.

And this helps me reframe what it means to thrive as a teacher. It’s not the absence of chaos and scatteredness that makes thriving possible, but instead the presence of trust in the Father’s care and intention. 

In my chaotic school year right now, the Father intends good for my students; He will see to this good. My job is to faithfully carry out my labors; I’m to sow as well as I can, but in a manner that trusts less in my sowing than in the Source of all growth.

It’s in this approach to the scatteredness of teaching that I find hints of the abundant life Jesus describes in John 10:10. Jesus’ fullness isn’t that of accumulation or accolades so much as it is the fullness of overflow. What this means for me as a teacher is a life so caught up in scattering that it can’t help but sow everywhere, trusting the Lord to sort out the harvest.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not always good at this trust. Some days, the rocky soil discourages me; other times, the cares of this world choke out the hope of all members of my class, including me. But when I’m at my best—which is to say, when I’m most settled in my trust in the Father—I find a strange freedom in the scatter. I let go of guessing which students will grow the most from my efforts, measuring the impact of all my labors, or calculating where to put my time. I just start throwing seeds with confidence.

And perhaps that’s exactly what thriving looks like in the life of a twenty-first-century teacher beset by all kinds of pressures. Not control, but faithfulness; not guaranteed outcomes, but steady planting. After all, this seems to be much the approach Jesus took in his own teaching ministry. And so as I walk the road of faith in the classroom, I find a fellowship with Him that makes me grateful to be a teacher in times such as these.

Teaching right beside you,

Dave Stuart Jr.