Women's August Blog

Mr. Graves

Seventh grade. I remember being small—literally (maybe 80 lbs. soaking wet)—and feeling even smaller than my height some days. I was changing, as we all do during the middle school years. I often felt unseen and insignificant.

Have you ever walked beneath a huge oak tree at 12 or 13 years old and suddenly realized how small you really are? How tall the tree is, and the sky beyond that? I walked most days to and from school, about a mile from my home. Many days I walked by myself, though sometimes I had a friend along.

That year was filled with new classes, careful steps in crowded hallways, and the constant task of remembering my locker combination. On one of my first days of 7th grade, I forgot it, had to go to the office to retrieve the number, and was just tall enough to see over the raised counter. I was late to my next class, embarrassed as any new middle schooler would be.

In 7th grade, I think we are all one of three things: behind the development curve, right in the middle, or ahead of everyone else. I was right in the middle. I wasn’t sure I liked boys—they were mostly ornery, occasionally nice, but generally crude in what they thought was funny.

In my awkward body, my short stature, and small frame, I went from class to class, walked back and forth to school, had a couple of friends, and was always careful…always shy.

Mr. Graves, the guidance counselor, seemed tall to me—though in reality, I don’t know exactly how tall he was. In my memory, he was about the height of my dad, around six feet. He had a normal build, but a huge heart made of pure gold. He saw kids. He saw me. He always said hello and was kind. Somehow, I knew I could trust him.

Toward the end of my 7th-grade year, I worked up the courage to talk with Mr. Graves about classes I could take in 8th grade. His office was neat and tidy, warm and welcoming. He smiled when I walked in and offered me a chair. We discussed different pathways as he mentored me through my options. He listened. He asked questions. He didn’t talk too much, but he heard all the words I spoke—and even the ones I didn’t.

The fact that he noticed the unspoken things about me was a gift. Before I left, he told me that I had worth. He spoke life into me through his words and the kindness in his voice. Caring about my seemingly small world, Mr. Graves changed how I saw myself and my life.

Have you ever had someone who truly noticed you? Someone who knew how to talk to you, to be the friend you needed, and to help you take your next step forward? Someone who let you share your thoughts and helped you find direction?

Friends are important. Acquaintances are important too. Saying hello to someone in the grocery line—or in a middle school hallway—just might make their day. Doing life together, listening, and sharing each other’s stories matters. It can change a life or a perspective.

Jesus always listens, hears, and welcomes us. He provides for us—whether we notice it or not. The Lord knows us completely. He pays attention to our spoken words and to the unspoken ones that speak volumes. We have the opportunity to follow His example.

In the Great Commission, we are sent. That doesn’t always mean going to another country—though sometimes it does. It might mean saying hello to someone, building a friendship, or walking alongside someone as a mentor or mentee. You may meet them in a Bible study, a class, an event, or even in the grocery store line.

Where will God use you? How will you step into the opportunity to be a friend, to listen, to be present, to mentor—to Love Well, Change Lives, Through Christ?

If you are interested in these things, we’d love to hear from you. At each campus, we have a Life2Life Ministry that prayerfully pairs women together to walk through life—mentor (friend) and mentee (friend). Listening, learning, asking, praying… we’d love to have you join our team. Click HERE to learn more.

- Traci Hollingsworth