Discipline, Challenge, and Grace

The following is a reflection written by Krista Peterson, one of this year's Little Village Volunteers.

Today I find myself starting anew, but starting anew with discipline. It is eight o'clock in the morning and I am sitting in a church pew with over four hundred students, all under the age of fifteen. A crowd of blue shirts and dresses, dark hair, wheat brown skin, backpacks and lunch boxes fills every pew. When they sing it is done with sleepy affection. They know the words to every song much better than I. They are Catholic in a way I never will be - the cradle kind. And in this place, a tiny church in a tiny village in one of the largest cities in the world, I have found something.

Thousands of miles away from my own childhood church and school, I have found home. I close my eyes and remember to take a breath. Remember to calm myself. Almost pinch myself to see if its real. Two months ago I was not a teacher. Two months ago attending any eight a.m. mass was absurd, let alone on a weekday. Two months ago I kept my faith well-hidden. Two months ago I stood at the doorway to something unknown, and I placed my conflicted heart into the hands of God. My whole heart. I prayed that the beauty of that single act would impress upon Him how much I needed to grow.

The discipline this year requires is the real challenge - facing myself constantly and with grace. Placing myself and my needs at the mercy of others before I have an opportunity to second-guess myself. The discipline of being a role model - to children and to my outer world. Discipline is exhausting, but it is a marathon, not a sprint.

As I walk out this morning, amidst the hundreds of reverent students, I suddenly feel the rewards. Every child knows my name because I teach them all. The sidewalk, once empty, is now filled with waves and shouts. They know my name! I hold the door open and bow my head humbly. If Jesus could call our names himself, it would sound like this.