What part of no???

Never pray for patience.   Never, never, never!  Yesterday morning as I was praying, I was asking the Lord for grace, mercy, love, wisdom, discernment, and strength, but the word "patience" kept popping into my mind.  Finally, "I said, OK, Lord, I know I'll regret it, but I'll pray for patience."

One of my jobs at the school is to teach the boys how to write in cursive.  The public schools have taken it out of their curriculum, but even before that, they didn't teach it.  Just mentioned it.  I'm proud to say Shiloh insists they learn and I'm proud to be a part of that.  It teaches discipline.  We all need that.

Tommy is our newest boy.  He's only been there 2 or 3 weeks.  He's a good boy, a very polite boy.  However, it was obvious he had no interest in learning cursive.  He especially had trouble doing his "f's."  Most of the boys do.  I'd show him how, even covered his hand in mine, but still he'd insist that bottom loop go in the wrong direction.

I'd say, "No."  He'd try again.  I'd say, "No."  He'd try again.  I'd say, "No." To say the least, my patience was severely tried.  "F" wasn't the only letter, but it was the toughest.  Every time he had to do one, I could see the tension build in him and he'd get it wrong-again.  OK, Lord, my patience was tested.  I survived, but went home feeling like I'd been in a war.

Last night in church, a neighbor woman who is in her 80's said she was NEVER made to learn cursive!  Astonishing!  She can sign her name in cursive, but that's all.  I was shocked.  In her day, teachers forced children to learn to write with their right hand even if they were left-handed, so why would they allow one child to not bother to learn to write in cursive.  Strange, to say the least.

When I was in school, we spent an hour a day on cursive for several grades-3rd through 6th, I think.  Regardless, in those days, no child was allowed to be independent, but she's a good 10 years older and got away with it.

After a grueling hour and 1/2, I said  to Tommy, "You're not really interested in learning cursive, are you?"  Understatement to say the least.

"I hate cursive," he said with an impish grin.  "I hate printing.  I hate computers."  That last one surprised  me.  When I asked him what he liked to do with his hands, he said "Build things," with a note of pride and sunshine on his face for the first time since he came to my desk.  I told him if he wanted to be a builder, he'd have to learn to read blueprints and write reports, so it was essential he learn to write in cursive so others could read it.  He reluctantly nodded and returned to class.