The alarm buzzes at 5:30 a.m., and Janet’s phone is already glowing with notifications—twenty-two new emails since midnight, each vying for her immediate attention. Subject lines scream URGENT. One parent demands answers about a missing class schedule. Another insists they “definitely submitted” proof of residency last month, though nothing appears in the PowerSchool system. The guidance counselor is requesting transfer records from three different schools. Meanwhile, three teachers are baffled by students added to their already full classes—without documentation or IEPs. Buried somewhere in the chaos is a message from her principal requesting a report, apparently due yesterday—though this is the first she’s heard of it.

It’s only the second day of the school year.

Despite her best efforts to stay ahead, the demands keep multiplying. The student information system crashed twice yesterday, and half the transfer students are still missing records. Everyone wants answers. Everyone needs something. And somehow, she’s expected to make 32 sixth graders fit into a classroom built for 25.

Educators are natural keepers.
We keep students safe.
We keep parents informed.
We keep lessons engaging, keep administrators happy, and somehow keep ourselves from falling apart…

But what happens when the keeper needs keeping?

Every educator knows the peculiar burden of being responsible for so many lives, minds, and futures all at once. We keep secrets whispered during recess, keep hope alive for struggling students, and keep pushing forward when the system seems stacked against us. 

Shamar is the Hebrew word for "keep" that appears throughout Scripture. It doesn't just mean to watch casually. It means to guard, to protect, to preserve with intentional care.

That’s exactly what educators strive to do. We guard potential and preserve curiosity, even when it’s buried beneath boredom or brokenness.

But we are not designed to be the ultimate keeper for everyone in our care.

Psalm 121 begins with a question every worn-out educator has asked: “Where does my help come from?”
“My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip; he who watches over you will not slumber.” 

And later:
“The Lord will keep you from all harm. He will watch over your life. The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.”  Psalm 121:7–8

The Hebrew word for "keep" that appears throughout Scripture is “Shamar,” which means to guard, to protect, to preserve with intentional care. 

Jesus is actively guarding, protecting, and preserving not just your students but you. 

This is very practical. The same God who keeps track of every sparrow knows exactly which student needs extra encouragement today, which parent email requires wisdom beyond your own, and which administrator decision is weighing. Jesus sees the full picture when you can only see the crisis in front of you.

When we try to be the ultimate keeper for our students, we rob them of experiencing the Lord Jesus’ keeping power in their own lives. That struggling reader who finally grasps a concept isn't just benefiting from your excellent teaching; they're experiencing God's faithfulness through your faithfulness. Acknowledging our limitations teaches them the most important lesson: there's a Keeper who never fails, and Jesus is working through imperfect people like us to show God’s perfect love.

When we embrace our role as sub-keepers under the True Keeper, everything shifts.

• We can give our best without chasing perfection.

• We can care deeply without carrying every burden.

• We can set boundaries without feeling guilty.

• And we can trust that even unseen efforts still matter.

As this school year unfolds with all its uncertainties, remember this promise from Isaiah 40:11:

"He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.

You're not just keeping students; you're being kept. The God who entrusted these children to your care hasn't left you to figure it out alone. He's the Keeper who never fails, and His keeping power is available to you right now, not just for Sunday inspiration, but for Monday's lesson plans and Friday's exhaustion.

You don't have to keep it all together. You just have to stay connected to the One who does.

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If you do not yet know Jesus—not only as the Savior of your soul but also as the Keeper of your peace—I invite you, whether sitting or standing, to simply repeat this prayer:

“Lord Jesus, I don’t know much about You, but I need Your keeping power. Education is hard. Life is hard. Please come into my heart and mind. Help me to do better by my students, coworkers, and parents—and most of all, do better by you and my family at home.”