Holy Moments in the Classroom: Where I Found God's Presence
When people ask me about my 27 years of teaching, they often wonder what I remember most. Was it the special events? The awards? The successful lessons? Those were wonderful memories, but they are not the ones that stay closest to my heart. The moments I treasure most are the quiet, ordinary moments when I knew God was in the classroom. Not because I could see Him with my eyes, but because I could feel His presence in the hearts of my students and in my own.
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7/4/20263 min read
Those moments became little reminders that teaching was never just a job. It was a ministry.
One memory that always brings tears to my eyes happened during a simple classroom conversation.
I was telling my four-year-old students, one by one, "Jesus loves you... and you... and you... and you." I wanted each child to know how deeply they were loved by God.
As I pointed to each little face, they listened with bright eyes and smiling hearts.
Then, without any prompting, they all looked at me and said together,
"Ms. Shannan, Jesus loves YOU too!"
I was completely caught off guard.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
I had been so focused on reminding them of God's love that I hadn't expected them to turn around and remind me.
It felt as though God Himself was speaking through those precious little voices.
At a time when teachers often pour themselves out for others, those simple words became a gentle reminder that I, too, am deeply loved by my Heavenly Father.
That unexpected response has stayed with me through the years.
Sometimes God chooses the smallest voices to speak the greatest truths.
Children are wonderfully honest. They notice things adults often miss.
On days when I was tired or carrying heavy burdens, their simple question reminded me that love had been growing in our classroom. They were learning not only math and reading but also compassion. In those moments, I felt God whisper, They are learning to love like Me.
Another memory that fills my heart is hearing little voices confidently recite Bible verses.
Some stumbled over the words.
Some spoke with excitement.
Some proudly memorized every verse.
Yet each verse was a seed being planted.
I may never know how those Scriptures will shape their lives years from now, but God does.
His Word never returns empty.
Sometimes I wonder if one verse learned in preschool will become the very promise they cling to during a difficult season in adulthood.
Only eternity will reveal the harvest.
Then there were the playground moments.
I remember standing beside the jungle gym, ready to help as children climbed higher than they ever had before. I asked him, “Do you need help?”
One sweet little voice called down to me,
"No"
I smiled.
Part of me wanted to keep holding on.
But a bigger part of me rejoiced.
Isn't that what teaching is all about?
We hold their hands until they are ready to let go.
Watching them become brave enough to climb on their own reminded me that growth often happens one small step at a time.
Moments when a child simply said,
"I love Jesus."
No teacher could ask for a greater privilege.
No report card could ever compare.
No achievement could ever be more meaningful.
To witness a young heart choosing to follow Jesus is a gift that reminds me why Christian education matters so deeply.
I was never changing hearts.
God was.
I was simply blessed to have a front-row seat.
Even the ordinary tasks became holy.
There were evenings when everyone had gone home, and I stayed behind cleaning the classroom by myself.
Sweeping floors.
Wiping tables.
Putting toys back where they belonged.
The building was quiet.
Yet I never felt alone.
Instead, I often felt completely full.
Those quiet moments became conversations with God.
As I cleaned the classroom, He seemed to gently clean my weary heart.
The room became peaceful.
My soul became peaceful too.
I realized that serving is never wasted when it is done for the Lord.
Looking back now, I see that God's presence wasn't limited to chapel services or Bible lessons.
He was there in children's laughter.
In scraped knees that needed comforting.
In bedtime prayers shared during circle time.
In tiny hands folded together.
In hugs that came without warning.
In tears that turned into smiles.
In forgiveness freely given.
In every ordinary day that became extraordinary because He was there.
The older I become, the more I realize that God rarely shouts.
More often, He whispers through everyday moments.
And if we are paying attention, those whispers become the memories we cherish most.
I thank God for allowing me to experience His presence in my classroom over the past 27 years.
He was there when I felt strong.
He was there when I felt exhausted.
He was there when I doubted myself.
He was there when I celebrated victories.
And He is still with me today.
Those holy moments remind me that teaching was never simply about educating children.
It was about walking with Jesus as He worked in their lives—and in mine.
For that privilege, I will always be grateful.