God: Joshua, a good teacher doesn’t just correct. If that was all a good teacher did, how would you learn?
Joshua: Well… a teacher’s job is to take a red pen, go over your work, and mark it up.
God: (shakes his head) That is not a teacher’s job. Who told you that was a teacher’s job?
Joshua: Well, that’s what it was. In school, if I heard nothing, I was a good student. All that mattered was: did the teacher have anything to critique? If not, then I was a good student. Nothing else mattered.
God: (shakes his head) Tell me: did teachers ever talk?
Joshua: Yes. They talked.
God: And, did you learn?
Joshua: Yeah. It’s how I was able to do the tests. And get marked. And told I was wrong. Which meant my future was in jeopardy.
God: Joshua… people put things into simple terms. “Get good grades, so you can get into a good college!” That’s not how my kingdom works. You can tell you are a son, because you are corrected. But “correction” isn’t just a red mark.
(I see a picture of archery: an arrow flies at a target, and lands slightly above the bullseye. The positioning of my “view” changes—now I’m the archer, and God’s beside me, holding my hands and whispering)
Joshua… make sure that you don’t think just about the bullseye, but the trajectory.
(He leans back) Hitting the bullseye is about more than just the bullseye. It is about trajectory.
A good teacher improves your trajectory. That is all.