Faith's Findings

        I have searched for the words to convey the nightmare of this week, but there truly are none. Never in my life did I think that I would bury two precious students within 11 months of each other. We, as a school family, were still healing from the tragic loss of our beautiful Bree, when suddenly our infectious Eric was ripped away from us.         As a teacher, the kids expect you to have answers. But this week, I simply had none. I asked the same hard questions, “Why?” We sat in shock that this was happening. Our hearts broke. We wrote and colored through the tears. We got lost in the memories. We rearranged rooms and plans because this was not supposed to happen. We broke in each other’s arms. We ran out of tissues.  Last year, I wrote this “A Teacher’s Grief” It's hard. It's beyond hard to see your big, tough boys collapse in your arms.  It's hard.  It's beyond hard to see the life in their eyes stunted.  It's hard.  It's beyond ha

To the Teacher Who Wonders Where Summer Went: I, like every other teacher, had really big plans this summer. These plans included prepping crockpot dinners, getting a head start on lesson planning, reading about 10 books that I'm not teaching and yet, I cannot put one check mark on that list. I am sitting here remembering how exhausting—on many levels—last school year was. It ended with some trials that have challenged me and my family in new ways. And I'll admit--- it leaves me with a bit of anxiety about the upcoming school year, especially since my checklist has no checks.  I am writing to tell you that its okay. I am writing to tell you that while your checklist, like mine, is still waiting on check marks, He smiles. It is okay that you didn’t get everything done that you wanted to. It is okay that you will be lesson and unit planning as you go—in fact it’s even better. It is okay that you enjoyed your summer simply. Now, you can enjoy your students wholly. It is

What started out as a ramble of my heart a week ago has come to fruition through tears and a broken heart.  Ramble: The past few weeks have been a national, state, city, and personal nightmare. We have seen our version of a civil war and lives have been lost. I physically ache for each person. I physically ache for my dear friends who are cops. I physically ache for unjustified killings. I physically ache for the racism in this country. Rob Flaherty tweeted: “There’s no sides here. Cops protecting peaceful protestors. Black men unjustly killed. Your heart can break for both.” Come, Jesus, Come. And because our offenses are so high these days, I know that some will be offended by this and totally miss the point. And my heart aches for that.   The Point: The above has been sitting on my computer screen for a week. Now, with my heart in pieces all over again, I am sitting here and trying to find the words that explain my heart. If my heart has ever been

We were able to shut it all out and enjoy nature, each other, and the Lord. We set up camp and immediately put on our backpacks and went down to the river. We remembered the song " Rolling River God  " as we picked up rocks that were silky smooth---and I prayed the edges of my heart were working toward that. I remembered how 13-14 years ago when I was at this place how I thought I had my life figured out. And how I thought I would come back with my husband and kids in tow. But, I looked at the Rock and caressed its edges--I smiled and sat to bask in just how far He has brought me.  We journeyed to Lost Valley--which according to the sign is neither lost nor a valley--but I would beg to differ. We saw amazing works of His hand.  I felt so small and I loved it. I relished in knowing just how small I am in this world. We climbed through the first little cave that had a waterfall and light and I was able to stand up the whole way and hop from rock to rock. On