As we begin our second quarter, it seems a good time to share this devotional our fourth-grade teacher, Mrs. Bodine, wrote for our August in-service. It’s a beautiful message for both teachers and parents about the threshold of any new beginning—a new school year, a new quarter, even each new day.
Flora Whittemore (1890-1993) once wrote, “The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.”
Whittemore, a U.S. historian, writer, proofreader, bookkeeper, and teacher was also a life-long learner who took a correspondence course in geology from Utah State University while living in a nursing home at the age of 100. She knew the weight and promise of a threshold. She understood that the seemingly small acts of opening a door to a study, a lecture, or a conversation could change a person’s entire trajectory. She believed that life-altering events often begin in what appear to be mundane moments. Her quote reminds us that what happens at a door is not passive; it is an active choice that leads to a particular path.
As educators, we stand at such a door. Our classroom door is not just a point of entry; it is a gateway. And we, the teachers, are the gatekeepers. Our presence, our attitude, and our intentions will determine what kind of world they enter. Our classrooms are poised to become places of learning, of discovery, and of growth. It is a garden, and we are its keepers.
Prayer:
Lord, thank You for the privilege of standing at the threshold of a new school year. We dedicate these empty rooms to You, and we dedicate our hearts. Prepare us to be a welcoming, life-giving presence for the children you are entrusting to us. Give us wisdom and fill us with Your peace. Amen.
I want to offer you an image for this school year, inspired by the idea of standing at the classroom door. The image is that of a Gatekeeper of a Garden. Your classroom is a garden where you hope to see young souls and minds blossom and grow. And you, teacher, are the gatekeeper. You have the profound authority and responsibility to decide what comes through the gate. You set the culture. You define the climate.
You decide if your garden will be a place of anxious performance or a place of safe exploration. You decide if the air will be thick with comparison and judgment, or if it will be filled with the fresh air of grace and second chances.
The Apostle Paul gives us a beautiful picture of what this welcome should look like. In Romans 15:7, he writes: “Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God.” Think about how Christ welcomes us. He doesn’t wait for us to be perfect. He doesn’t greet us with a list of our past failures. He doesn’t demand that we “measure up” before we can enter His presence. He welcomes us as we are, with open arms of grace.
That is our high calling as the gatekeepers of our classrooms. To stand at the door, literally and figuratively, and welcome our students not based on last year, their past behavior, or their family, but as Christ welcomes us—as beloved individuals full of potential.
So, what does it look like to be a Gatekeeper of the Garden?
First, you set the atmosphere. A gatekeeper doesn’t just open and close a door; they represent the entire spirit of the place inside. When you greet your students with a calm voice and a genuine smile, you are communicating, “This is a safe place. You can rest here. You can be yourself here.” When you model how to speak to others with respect, you are teaching a lesson far more important than the one on the board. You are actively cultivating the soil of your garden so good things can grow.
Second, you welcome the weary. As gatekeepers, we are called to pay special attention to the students who arrive at our gate looking tired, hurt, or discouraged. They are the ones who need the “welcome of Christ” the most. This might look like offering a quiet word of encouragement, giving a high-five, or simply letting a child know you’re glad they came to school today. It’s a welcome that says, “I see you, and I am here for you.”
Finally, you guard the garden. A gatekeeper also protects. You have the authority to say, “Cruel words are not welcome here. Bullying has no place in this garden. We will not allow the weeds of gossip or cynicism to take root in this soil.” This isn’t a passive role; it’s an active one. You actively protect the tender plants from the things that would harm them and choke out their growth, creating a space where they are free to flourish.
This calling to be a gatekeeper is a high one, and we cannot do it in our own strength. We get tired. Our patience wears thin. The good news is that we are not standing at the gate alone. Christ, the one who is the door (John 10:9), stands with us. He is the ultimate guardian of our hearts and our classrooms. When you feel overwhelmed, lean on Him. Ask Him for the strength to guard your tongue, the compassion to welcome the difficult, and the wisdom to cultivate a garden where His love can grow.
Prayer:
Lord Jesus, thank You for the calling to be a gatekeeper. It is a heavy and beautiful responsibility. Lord, we ask for your help. Grant us the grace to set an atmosphere of peace. Give us Your eyes to see the weary students who need Your welcome the most. Make us bold and strong to guard this precious garden against harm. May our classrooms be a foretaste of your Kingdom, places of safety, growth, and love. We trust that you will be with us every step of the way, at our coming and our going, today and all year long. In your holy name, Amen.