I missed a funeral on Saturday. I am just dipping my toes in to begin to try to process this grief. This is a loss that occurred before it occurred. This is pain mixed with deeper pain, and I am probably trying to process it with the emotional reasoning that research says became frozen in time. So the little girl […]
Did you know that I can’t control a pandemic’s impact on people’s desire to gather for church, a school’s failure to provide a healthy learning environment for students, or a foster system’s inability to provide options? You did. Hmmmm, I guess I missed the memo because I have lost a lot of shut eye over these items.
I had always vowed to leave teaching before I became one of the teachers who was bitter and angry. I left a bit too late. But I had never stopped caring, wanting the kids to succeed, or loving the challenge of finding a new way to bring the content to life.
The passion that kept me afloat was also what wore me out.
I couldn’t stop the frustration of working against a system that disregarded everything research shows us concerning adolescent development. Our administration stripped the teachers of the tools necessary to help students succeed and then blamed the teachers when kids struggled.
I was sinking, and I knew I had to come up for air.
At the end of it all, I found a common thread: I am uneasy, sad, worried, etc. because life is forcing me to acknowledge, once again, how little control I actually have. All the small things have converged in a great conspiracy to teach me yet another lesson on surrender.
We often pray because we desperately want something to change. We pray the suffocating marriage in which each person feels desperately alone will change. We pray the diagnosis, the weather, our awful bosses, or our finances will change.
We know prayer changes things, so we pray and we pray. We just don’t know when, why, or how the change will take place.
Everybody loves a makeover story because we love to see the change from a broken down house or poorly coiffed individual into a home with curb appeal and a person glowing with confidence. What we don’t enjoy nearly as much is the process. Or maybe I’m just talking about how I feel and assuming others feel the same. I never […]
Unmet expectations, failed dreams, and loss of life and security are not new events. They are built into the human experience, and we can continue to live full, peace filled lives if we accept the reality of the now, embrace the mystery of why, and move forward each day.
Well, I was angry. Or I still am. I don’t know in this moment. I had planned to write a post to process my anger when I woke up yesterday. I was going to be open about the fact that I find myself swearing and venting and spewing grossness from inside because I have let anger take my peace, and I was hoping that the grace would come in the confessing.
In that moment I don’t know if I have what it takes to truly know the wonderful mysteries sitting before me on day one. I know they will baffle, thrill, and annoy me to no end. They’ll give me a thousand stories to tell my husband and my friends about the clever, stupid, rude, or sweet things they do all year long. But then the last day will come, and I’ll be thinking, “I don’t want it to end,” and some pain in the butt kid will actually say it right out loud.
AND I WILL BE DONE FOR.