Just Us

I snuck away today to the YMCA and took a few steps on the treadmill.  Plugging my headphones into my ears, I could quickly tune out my surroundings.  For me, putting one foot in front of the other in an effort to get my heart pumping while listening to my current favorite tunes, has a way of bringing clarity to my thoughts.  Seems strange to be short of breath and finally be able to think clearly, but that's just how I work. I've been reflecting more on creating rhythms in my life that reflect the life I really want to live.  I am currently reading Rebekah Lyons' book, Rhythms of Renewal and have been really challenged to take inventory of my life and how I am spending this one life I've been given.  It's been really good.  BUT,  through this I have been wrestling with this idea of my "why and how."  What is the purpose of reflecting on how my time is best spent and how can I make that happen today and tomorrow and the next? The biggest strug...

The fire flickers calling me to sit, be still Coffee cool from being set aside While I attend to the morning bustle. One lukewarm sip brings perspective My own heart’s condition. Another year has floated by. Joys, sorrows, celebrations and failures. Piled once again on top of one another Creating a mound of memories  Hard to separate  So my human self lumps it all into one. 2019. Looking back to look forward What to change And which parts shall remain the same. I swish my coffee just to watch it swirl But what if His call Isn’t just for change,  But a plea to just be still Still enough to listen  Still enough to hear Still enough not to waste yet another year.

Here I am. Leaving the sunshine and flexibility of summer behind for the first time Forced to unload armfuls of new ideas and lamination in the hallway So I can pat down pockets to locate my keys. Slowly I prop open the heavy door. With a quick flick, fluorescent lights flood this familiar space. The musty smell of books and untouched stacks piled high greet me Hello old friends. Here I am. Being a teacher would be awesome to have your summers off. They say. And here I am late Sunday night. Shuffling furniture can feel as heavy as the weight of this calling at times. Moving piles of new curriculum to their home And supplies as numerous as the individual needs that will soon fill this space. Here I am. Overwhelming feelings bring into focus the huge task ahead. Stress starts to creep in Threatening to suffocate and paralyze my best efforts. So much to do to prepare, so many needs, create the perfect space How to fit it all in, create the ideal schedule, communic...

A sweet friend of mine, who also happens to be a beautiful writer has been encouraging her followers to write. In the midst of all the turmoil going on in our small town....I’m brought to a pen and paper..or I guess my computer. :) I moved to this friendly little treasure of a town, Glenwood. Over ten years ago, I knew very few people and wasn’t sure if it would be a place I would call home for long.  It didn’t take long to realize this bustling little community was unique.  Not only did it have a smalltown Homecoming that somewhat resembled a national holiday and cute little business store fronts, it had these people. These rather strange, overly friendly people that would go out of their way to welcome a newbie or offer to shoulder a heavy load for a stranger they barely knew. These caring, hardworking people kept popping into my life, uninvited really. Ya know, there are lots of things people say about a small town. Small town living isn’t for everyone....everyone knows...

Many times I write a quick blogpost and it stays in drafts. This morning I came across this one...one I wrote right before the start of the school year. Funny how it spoke to me today. Praying it encourages you as well. Perspective -A particular attitude toward or way of regarding something; a point of view. As I begin this new school year, I've decided my word for the year will be perspective .  Over the past few weeks, the theme of how my own personal perspective impacts my life has continually surfaced through books I'm reading and through my own personal devotion time.  Here are a few thoughts that have been challenging me as I go into another school year: Though I cannot control what will happen in my day, I can control the perspective that I use to determine my attitude when unfavored things occur. Perspective: When I wake, am I waking with a grateful heart toward God for giving me another day to simply be here and breathe?  Am I choosing to wake grateful t...

Pulling sticky tacked posters off the wall......putting away books full of curriculum back on the shelf...... hours of entering grades and filling out several spreadsheets and filing. The hustle and bustle of the end of the year has officially settled in. Within a few days, kids will skip out of the school building doors with huge smiles, summer plans and carefree fun on their minds.  And the teachers are often feeling the exact same way on that last day, if we are being completely honest. However, contrary to what many people may believe to be true of teachers at the end of the school year...there is always an element of sadness for me as I close the chapter on each class of kindergarteners. In the craziness of the end being in sight, it is so easy to let the busyness steal the true joy of this time with my students. My word for the school year has been “intentional.”  It’s written outside my classroom door as a reminder and it has caused me to reflect often on how to foc...

Growing up as a teacher's kid, you would think I would have wanted nothing more than to follow in my mother's footsteps.  I even remember people saying, "Aw, you could just be a teacher like your mom!" You may be surprised to know....I honestly did NOT want to be a teacher from the beginning.  Of course growing up with three sisters, we played school A LOT.  But as soon as I saw the day-to-day life of my mom, an elementary school teacher, I quickly learned that being a teacher wasn't exactly as glamorous as our young minds had imagined.  Being a teacher was much more than making red checkmarks on a page and giving directions to my willing, well-behaved sisters. I would frequent my mom's classroom after school. She was always working long after the last bell and always had a full bag flung over her shoulder as she left school each night.  She would travel to one of our many school events, then come home and open her school bag to begin her work again, even in...