When I look into their faces as I read them the poem, I still see the young man (who was almost constantly in a cast of some sort) sitting in a middle school classroom. I see his energy and exuberance in their young and promising eyes, and my heart breaks again… and again… and again.
Let’s sing together, or not. Maybe the singing is too hard because the pain is too deep. The lyrics say what your heart longs to believe, and the songs we sing are the faith you desperately need. The world pushes and pulls you and drags you around. Your heart is trampled and aches at the sound. The melody feels false […]
It doesn’t matter how much I know the the truth; I am still battling the lies. Somewhere, deep down, I believe myself to be not enough. I often look to the numbers to prove myself wrong. Thankfully, some numbers require nothing of me, and they speak a truth I desperately need to embrace.
Life is chaos and mess, and, yes, we have to work hard at it, but even in the decay there is something valuable. Perhaps, it is even something worth all the gold and luster being worn off so we can see it.
I love teaching. ….. At least, I did. Now, I’m not so sure. For as long as I can remember, I wanted to teach. I was made to teach. I am now in my 11th year as a teacher, and something in me has changed. I have the opportunity to work outside of the classroom every other day, and it […]
I think I am back. I think I know it again. I know who I am in my creator and the fulfilling of his plan for me, but I reserve the right to learn it again. I reserve the right to get up if I stumble again.
Won’t you? Won’t you give yourself the same right? Every lesson we know, we can know again. Every truth can be understood again. We can be wrong and find right again and again. I am finding right again. I am finding write again….
Strange things are happening in me. I cannot describe it. I want to write, but I am not sure how to do it without striving to gain recognition. I don’t want to write for selfish gain, but I don’t know how to divorce myself from my writing. I don’t know how to not desire people to affirm my words. I […]
There is something about hearing I am not alone in the struggle. I am not the only one in need of grace. The best part, though, is the grace. The grace connects us. I love that. Yes, there is connecting in the fighting and the uphill climbing, but the real bond is in the grace and the overcoming.
We were unpacking some boxes from the move, and I found one of my prayer journals from college. Some things never change:
I don’t want my son to grow up wondering about his worth because I spent more time criticizing than I did encouraging.