FAY ROWE | Author/Speaker

Winner The Word Guild Canadian Christian Writing Awards 2009 (Relationships Category)

"But you, oh Lord, shall endure forever, and the remembrance of your name to all generations" (Psalm 102:12).

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"I'm not praying for them any more. I don't care if they go to Hell!"

    Those disturbing words begin the story of an event that changed my thinking and later became the seed of this book. They shocked my husband as I said them, but no more than they did me.

    The words tumbled out of my mouth early on a dull, misty morning...not unusual for January deep in the heart of Texas...as I drove my husband to the university where he was in the second year of his doctoral program. I was one of two fourth grade teachers at a Christian school near the university and I was talking about two of my students. Glenn and I usually prayed for the boys as we drove to work in the mornings, probably more for my sake than theirs, but today I didn't want to. I had given up.

    I loved teaching and I especially loved teaching fourth graders. Still a kid somewhere deep inside, I had always enjoyed a good rapport with children of that age. They were more often than not enthusiastic, creative, open-hearted, and generally pleasant. I found it great fun, for the most part, to spend my days with them.

    But for some reason--and I've never been able to pinpoint a good one--these boys were too much for me to handle. The sad truth was they got on every nerve I had. "Ten-year-olds-from Hell" I called them on my worst days. I felt as if they were the source of all my troubles.

    They were definitely the source of my sadness for all the parents who were paying good money to have their little ones educated in a Christian environment, only to have them influenced daily by my two nemeses; the source of my embarrassment hat I was failing to keep control of my class; and --probably why my husband prayed so earnestly for the little darlings!-- the source of the bad humor I took home every day.

    The tension in my classroom grew daily. I was sure everyone could sense the hostility these boys felt for me. Even worse, I was afraid that the festering resentment I felt toward them might also be obvious to everyone--resentment I had tried unsuccessfully, time and time again, to overcome.

    Glenn went ahead and prayed while--yes, I'm ashamed to admit it--I sulked.

    In minutes we were at the university and I sat alone in the car.

    But not quite alone. There was God.

    Suddenly and painfully aware that he'd heard what I said, I back-peddled. "Lord, I'm really thankful for my job," I offered piously, and then couldn't resist this whine, "... but do you realize what a great year I'd be having if I didn't have those two terrors in my class?"

    Not really expecting a response, I clearly heard this gentle thought, "Where would you have me send them?"

    The hairs on my arms stood straight up even as my heart sank, God had sent them to me?

    Now I was ashamed--ashamed I'd complained, ashamed I'd been unable to help them, and probably most ashamed because ...

To read more, click here to buy the book.

"Fay Rowe has done it again! Her new book, Keepers of the Testimony inspires and challenges us to keep the oral tradition of story telling, reminding the next generation, through our own experiences, that God does love us and is a deeply involved Father who keeps his promises."

Donna Fawcett, Author

Thriving in the Homeschool and Donna Dawson novels