Over the past few days, I have felt it. The words are waiting to pour out of me. I am not sure what provoked it exactly - teenage drama in my household? Stress at work? Illness in my family? Unrest in my soul? Whatever the culprit, the words are bubbling - waiting to escape. Do I write an advice column? My students think I should write a book full of advice - apparently I have had some life experiences that have made my "wisdom" valuable - or humorous - not sure which.

Or, do I write about reaching this point in my life - do I finally get it? Is there really such a thing as a mid-life crisis? If so, am I in the middle of it? Is this what crisis looks like? Gosh, I hope not. I just have a few things I need to figure out. Like do I go on a diet and drink Medifast shakes and drop weight in metaphorical snap of my fingers, or do I join Weight Watchers? Or join a gym? Or eat a chocolate bar? Whatever it is, I need to get over my inhibitions. I am ready to bear my soul - I am just worried about who I might offend in the meantime. Will my teenager be ready for aspects of her life to be shared? Will my sweet, compassionate husband be ready to listen to my rants in person and now on "paper," too?

So much to consider, so many things to say...

Thankful

There are many days when my job stresses me out. I put a lot of pressure on myself; I have high expectations for my students. I am not perfect, nor do I claim to be. I have learned to laugh at myself for my mistakes as well as celebrate my successes. At the end of the day...each day...I can honestly say I love what I do. My prayer for you is that you can say the same. smile emoticon ‪#‎blessedteacher‬

The above is my current Facebook status. In the wake of another crazy busy week, I needed time to reflect. This is what I have done this week:

• Monday: lobby the General Assembly to encourage our delegates and senators to increase teacher pay, reduce the number of SOLs our students need to take, and help reduce our health insurance costs by adopting a statewide health insurance plan for teachers, among other initiatives
• Monday afternoon: ship 62 pages of the yearbook for our deadline (worked until 7pm)
• Monday afternoon: meet with the newspaper editors to review the work done on our paper deadline
• Monday night: re-edit the school newspaper 
• Tuesday morning before school: upload our newspaper for publication with our publisher in the valley
• Tuesday: start the underclassmen deadline in yearbook with my J2 (newbies) journalists; start the theme deadline for my upperclassmen in yearbook
• Tuesday: teach concession/counterargument in English class
• Tuesday: teach/review layout terms for newspaper in Mass Comm
• Tuesday night: attended the SBO budget meeting

Whew! I am only at Tuesday! I am proud of what I accomplished in just two days.

• Wednesday morning - 9am: I am thankful that I saw one of my newspaper kids sign on National Signing Day to play football for Va Tech. Austin is great person, and I know he will succeed because he puts his all in to it!
• Wednesday English classes: persuasion, concession, counterargument! My kids were really into this lesson. One of them sent me a message on Twitter asking if they could further debate the topic in a Socratic Seminar.
• Wednesday night: church supper; church choir - got my worship on!
• Thursday 8:15am: distributed the newspaper! The student body loved this issue. My staffer reporters were excited to see students walking through the hallways reading the paper and discussing the issues! Several tweeted positive comments.
• Thursday yearbook 8:30-11:45: worked with our awesome and talented yearbook rep, Denise, to discuss our book's progress. This meeting was super intense and lasted close to three hours! What?! We were able to accomplish so much and correct our design problems. YAY!
• Thursday English: a bit of a downfall; I could not find a set of handouts. My classroom can be somewhat of a black hole. I wonder if other journalism teachers can relate? The papers are no where to be found. I have the papers the day before when I taught concession/counterargument. The only thing I can figure is that the handouts were chucked when my newspaper staff and I cleaned up the room. Ugh! I felt frazzled and discombobulated. The lost papers threw off the start of the lesson and created a few awkward moments for me. I know that I cannot always be a great teacher, but I sure strive to be. I have really beaten myself up for this mistake today. I definitely need to let it go. The lesson turned out okay; I was able to still do some of the work I planned, but I had to be some creative juggling.  

I am not sure why I am detailing all of this information; maybe it is to serve as a reminder for why I am so tired but yet so fulfilled. Sometimes I have to remind myself to look on the bright side, to stay positive. Other days I don't need to be reminded. I am grateful for a job where I can do what I love while trying to make a little bit of difference in a kid's life. I may not get it right every day, but I am thankful that God has given me a new day to try it again. 

Snow Days and Crazy Weather

While the snow days have definitely caused me some stress this year (SOL testing and yearbook deadlines), I love the traditions that a snow day brings. Sledding with friends, baking cookies, walking up the road to visit loved ones...my days are complete when I can spend time doing the things I love.

However, there is a bit of reality that strikes sometimes, too. I do take time to grade papers, wash laundry and clean my house.

Yesterday the weather was so warm we could enjoy being outside in our shirt sleeves. (It was 74! Hard to handle the 50 degree difference we experienced today!) We ventured to Crump Park to visit with the animals and to look for snakes and other creatures. You guessed it, Allen and his family were with us. I've posted a few pics for all to enjoy.

This is Luke the snail that Allen found and Hannah adopted for a few hours. He was a cute little bugger.

The beauty of the woods.

Hannah and Emily "play" a game of checkers while Jaden and Nala look on.

Meet Hamilton the mule. I really wanted to go back to the park today. The mules have a building for shelter (in the background), but they often choose the outdoors. I am sure they were beautiful this morning covered in snow.

Hope that you, too, have enjoyed your time off today.

Hope

Today our pastor spoke on Hope. Do you have hope? Do you have peace and joy? My faith in Christ and personal relationship with him reminds me that I have hope for tomorrow and hope today. I continued reading today after church, and I was reminded that struggles and strife remind us that we have hope through Christ. Through the trials of my life, especially our five lost pregnancies, I am reminded that God is doing a good work in me. And, over the last ten years, I have been able to reach out to other moms who have suffered loss, too. This ministry is definitely one I wish I did not have, but I am thankful that I have been able to be a support to so many others.

I ask you today, where does your hope come from? Do you have hope? Do you have peace? Joy? Love? If not, I invite you to talk to me about my Christ and my relationship with Him.

"I have a hope! I have a future!
I have a destiny that is yet awaiting me.
My life's not over, a new beginning's just begun,
I have a hope, I have this hope!

God has a plan, it's not to harm me,
But it's to prosper me and to hear me when I call,
He intercedes for me, working all things for my good,
Though trials may come, I have this hope.

I will yet praise Him, my great Redeemer,
I will yet stand up and give Him glory with my life.
He takes my darkness and turns it into light,
I will yet praise Him, my Lord, my God.

There's still hope for me today 'cause the God in heaven loves me.

I have a hope, I have this hope."

-Tom Walker
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSbJtqYow3Q&noredirect=1

40 years?

How it is possible that in less than 10 days I will turn 40? To be cliche, it feels like just yesterday that I was 25. I guess time really does fly when you're having fun - or just living life!

As I teenager, I remember thinking that 40 was ancient - that no one had a life at 40. Thankfully, I realize now that thought was incorrect! Over the past 40 years I have learned patience, found a stronger faith in God, and learned to bite my tongue more often. I am certainly more assertive than aggressive, have more wisdom to offer, and have acquired a taste for red wine. My life no longer centers around me but revolves around my family and those whom I hold dearest. I realize being alone is not the same as feeling lonely; that love at first sight does exist (DAVID!); that it's okay to leave the laundry for a week; that I cannot be perfect at anything. My microwave needs to be cleaned again, my dog sheds too much (so does the fluffy cat), my mom really knows a lot about life, and life is fleeting. As 40 creeps closer and closer, I realize that my parents are getting older and won't be here forever like I thought when I was little. But, my mom still makes me chicken noodle soup when I am sick and my dad calls me at night to check on me.

As I enter the last week of my 30s, I will celebrate the people around me who love me just as I am. And I will love my age, despite my trepidation of turning the big 4-0. Cheers!!

Tired

Today I am tired. Do you ever have those days? I have not slept well for the past few nights - I have too much on my mind apparently. My girl started high school on Tuesday. And, the school year began again for me too. I am definitely excited to kick off another school year. I truly love my job, and I know that teaching high school is my calling.

But today I am just tired. I think it is time to go home and take a nap.

Dollbaby

            Dollbaby. That's what he called me. I remember Granddaddy's special way of eating grapefruit - glasses on to prevent the acidic juices from attacking his eyes. I remember his special blue recliner where he would gracefully lounge for his Sunday afternoon naps. No work was allowed on Sundays as it was - and still is - the Lord's day. I remember that blue recliner as his cradle for entertaining guests once the diagnosis came - fatal, terminal lung cancer.
            Even as his days grew harder, he didn't hesitate to be the stern but loving disciplinarian. As the oldest grandchild, I was often held responsible for younger cousins' (and brother's) actions. This time was no different. We thought we would be sneaky and throw dirt clogs at passing cars. (Why we ever thought that was a good idea, I still do not know.) And, hit a car we did. Except it wasn't a sweet little old lady driving the car. It was a cantankerous, white-bearded man with a boat of a car. We hit that car squarely on the driver's side window. Immediately the driver slammed on his brakes. And immediately the three of us made a beeline for the barn. We scrambled to the loft and peered through the old barn's slats to spy on the happenings.
            As the man climbed out of his car, we trembled with fear. Granddaddy met him at the back door. Though we couldn't hear the words, we could certainly read the body language. After what seemed like hours, but was probably mere minutes, the man left, and we crept out of the barn.
            With my head hung low and my tail tucked between my legs, I cautiously walked up onto the back stoop. Granddaddy was waiting for me. Though I can't recall his words of correction, I do remember the shame I felt from his admonition. I vowed to never displease him again. (I also remember the threat of a switching if I pulled a stunt like that again.)
            It wasn't long after that moment that the cancer got the best of him. As he was waiting for the ambulance to come take him to the hospital, he called me into the parlor. As he sat on that narrow, rented, borrowed hospital bed, he witnessed to me. He shared how Christ was the center of his life. That he wasn't afraid to die because he knew without a doubt that he would live eternally in Heaven with Jesus.
            When the ambulance attendants came to carry him away, I slipped away out the front door. I couldn't stand the thought of seeing him strapped to the stretcher. This man, who called me dollbaby, living in a broken body.
            As the ambulance circled around the driveway, I knew deep within my eight-year-old heart that the moments I had just spent with him would be the last I would spend with him alive. And I said a silent good-bye again, one last time.