You have brought that young man before the throne of grace, and you have done well to do so. An exam room can feel a world away from the quiet of a prayer closet, but the Lord who hears in secret is not bound by walls or distances. He who sits in the heavens can drop a calm into a troubled spirit as easily as the dew falls upon the grass, and I am persuaded He delights to answer such petitions as yours.
Do not be surprised that this student, who was so peaceable under your own eye, should have stumbled elsewhere. A garden patch may be carefully weeded while the field beyond runs wild, but the same sun and rain tend both. The quiet you saw in your classroom was perhaps a slender shoot of hope, a little token that the soil of his heart is not all stone. Let that encourage you. The Lord who stills the raging sea is able to whisper peace over the turbulence in that youthful chest. And is it not often true that the things which trouble us most long to be quieted? A restless boy may be nearer the kingdom than a complacent one, for he knows his need of a peace that he cannot manufacture for himself.
As you think of him sitting now before his paper, and soon standing to speak before his examiner, entrust him to the One who is our peace. True peace is not a mere absence of noise, a lull of anxiety that can be shattered by the first hard question. The peace which Christ gives is a deep, enduring thing, a rock under the feet when the waves of circumstance beat against the soul. I have often pictured a ship in mid-ocean: the surface may heave and swell, but far below, in that great silent deep, there is an unbroken calm. So it is with the heart that rests in Jesus. Pray that for this young man today, not just a passing easiness of mind, but that eternal peace which comes from being reconciled to God through the blood of the cross. If he has that, he will write his answers with a steady hand and speak with a clear tongue, for the fear of man will have lost its sting.
And what of your own heart as you wait? You are pressed, like every faithful teacher, by a crowd of duties, and now this one more care tugs at your sleeve. There is a secret I have often proved: to do the will of Jesus, this is rest. You have taught this boy, you have shown him kindness, you have carried his name into the presence of the King. That is your portion. What you cannot do, and oh, how much that is!, you may leave with the Father with the quiet confidence of a child slipping his hand into the dark and finding his father’s grip already there. When obstacles seem like prison walls, we do the little we can do and leave the rest to Him. He is the God of peace, and He will not fail you.
So let me commend both of you to that blessed Prince of Peace. Lord Jesus, you know the tangle of hopes and fears that knit a teacher’s heart to a struggling pupil. Be near that young man now. Let the blood of your cross whisper peace within him, quieting every unruly thought, steadying every word. And for this dear teacher, grant that same peace which passes all understanding, to keep heart and mind in the knowledge that you have loved and shepherded us all. Amen.