Hope in the Calling: The Gift of Presence

“The virgin will conceive and give birth to a son, and they will call him Immanuel” (which means “God with us”).

- Matthew 1:23

There is something astonishing about the way God chose to enter the world. Not with splendor, nor glory, but with His very presence, hidden in humility and humanity. The infant held in Mary's arms was the same Savior that would someday walk dusty roads with his disciples. Before Jesus taught the crowds or healed the hurting, He simply came close, the essence and glory of God present with us, united with the very human flesh that so grievously first sinned against Him and destroyed His perfect creation. Matthew 1:23 reminds us that God’s first gift to humanity was not instruction, it was Himself. Immanuel. God with us.

Teachers may understand this gift more than they often realize.

Presence is the pedagogy of grace. It is often overlooked in the clamor for measurable outcomes, quick fixes, or instructional perfection. But the longer you teach, the more you begin to see that your presence, not your performance, is often what students remember in the end. It is not the rigorous math lesson or the dynamic reading lesson that remain on students' hearts, but the presence of the teacher who sat with them when they were hurting, who listened without rushing, who showed compassion in the challenging moments, who celebrated the small victories, and who offered calm when life seemed chaotic.

Presence is the welcoming and warm greeting at the door that shifts the trajectory of a child’s day. It’s gentle patience with a student who is unraveling right before your eyes. It’s the calm steadiness you offer when a classroom feels like it might spiral out of control. It’s the eye contact with a student that says, “I see you. You matter. You are not alone.”

In a modern world consumed by distractions, split with divided attention, and burdened with relentless demands, presence has become both rarer and more necessary. For some students, the presence of a caring adult is the stabilizing force that makes school feel safe. Your presence literally helps regulate a child’s nervous system and increases their capacity to learn. (If you're really interested in that kind of science- check out research on mirror neurons, attachment theory and co-regulation, as well as behavior management strategies.) Even more importantly, Scripture points us to countless examples of presence bringing strength, courage, and comfort (Isaiah 41:10, Mark 6:34, 2 Corinthians 12:9, Psalm 23 are just a small glimpse of the many passages that speak to this.)

Presence is costly; the ultimate cost of God's presence among us is revealed at Easter on the cross. Presence requires slowing down when everything in you wants to rush ahead at full speed. It asks you to notice others when you’d rather just numb yourself. It calls you to be fully here even when your to-do list orders you to be everywhere else. And yet, this is where God meets you.

Jesus does not ask teachers to bring what they do not have. He asks you to offer what He first gives: Himself. When you step into your classroom with your presence, you echo the heart of Immanuel. You bear witness to a God who draws near to His people in their need, not in their perfection.

Some of the most transformative moments you will ever offer a student will not be scripted or planned. They will come from simply being with them in their frustration, fear, wonder, or joy. Your presence says, “You don’t have to walk this alone.” Presence mirrors God’s love in ways words cannot. And perhaps a comforting truth is this: presence changes you too. Your priorities quiet, your frenzied hurrying loosens its grip, and teaching becomes less about holding everything together and more about holding on to what God is gently doing in your students and in you. And when you slow down long enough to notice this shift, you begin to marvel at the mystery that makes all presence possible- our Immanuel, the God who draws near. As Charles Spurgeon wrote, “Is not this a strange thing that this grosser part of creation, this meaner part, this dust of it, should nevertheless be taken into union with that pure, marvelous, incomprehensible, divine being…? Oh, the condescension of it! Dwell on it with awe.” If God Himself chose to step into flesh and be with us, then your simple, steady presence in the classroom is no small thing; it is a quiet echo of the greatest presence the world has ever known.

Practice Presence

Where can you deliberately be “with” someone today? A student whose eyes avoid yours? A class that needs more calm than correction? A colleague whose exhaustion is beginning to show? Your family or child who feels the deficit of your attention?

Or perhaps, a moment with God, letting Him be present with you first?

Prayer

Immanuel, thank You for being the God who comes near to dwell with me. Teach me to embody Your presence in my classroom and life. Slow my mind, quiet my heart, and help me to be fully attentive to the students You’ve entrusted to me. When I am tempted to rush, worry, or withdraw, remind me that presence itself is a gift, a way You love through me. Be with me as I am with them. Amen.