2020

 This kid. This sweet, baby boy. 

Here he is at daycare, barely two years old. 

We'd just moved to Texas, and we had a whole life ahead of us. 

Kindergarten wasn't even on the horizon.

 How in the world did we make it to senior year? 

Look at how he and his girlfriend went off to camp and didn't even plan to wear matching college shirts to the school they very well might attend together.

 Here they are getting ready to go to Colorado with him sporting his new letterman jacket, knowing Colorado might actually have temperatures conducive for it. 

And here he is getting ready for his senior yearbook picture.

Be still my heart. More senior pics will come later in the year, ones a bit more suited to his cowboy boots and jeans personality. He's wanting his highly skilled photographer aunt in Indiana to take his pictures, but we're not quite sure how to work that out yet since we don't have a trip to Indiana planned anytime in the next 9 months. 

I truly soak up every bit of time I can get this kid to still hang out with me. I remember summers being all about hanging out with my buddy. Summer was all about me and David and whatever adventures we could find to do together. Riding bikes, going for walks, swimming, playing video games, going to dollar movies, reading books, playing games like Sorry and Monopoly, making blueberry pancakes every morning for breakfast, etc. Now this boy is constantly on the go, so I have to be ready to drop everything at a moment's notice to spend time with him in between his active church/work/soccer/truck/social life. 

This summer alone, he spent five days as a middle school camp leader in Austin, spent a week at high school camp in Colorado, went on a week-long mission trip in the Valley (Mission, Texas), worked many long, hot hours for a few different people trying to earn the funds for his trip, worked countless hours at Chick Fil-A, spent quite a bit of time with his girlfriend and church friends, and is currently still working on rebuilding his truck with a new/used transmission, among other things, with his dad. As you can see, summer didn't include much mom-time like it used to, but we still found time to squeeze in a quality moment here and there. 

I'm so thankful we love to play games anytime and anywhere, and that we still have deep talks while taking a drive somewhere or going for a walk around the block together. Many nights this summer I've waited up for him to come home from work late at night, and the first thing he says when he walks in the door is if I'm up for a game of Skipbo or Uno or Phase 10. Overly tired or not, I'm always up for a late night game or two with my son. I love that we have such a simple thing as a card game to keep us close and connected even in this busy stage of his life. Of course, an hour or two with a game at a coffee shop is preferrable, but if a late night game is all we have time for, then I'll take it. 

2020 always seemed so far away. I can't believe I'll be buying Class of 2020 graduation decor in less than a year. 

May I not let a single moment with this precious child slip by me in the coming year. 

Memories, Reminders of God

One of my favorite features on Facebook is to find memories of the day. What happened in my life on this day a year ago, two years ago, five years ago, and even ten years ago. I especially love to search those memories in the summer time.

June holds all my memories of Colombia--of the first trip we took to meet Julian, of the second trip we took to work as summer missionaries at the Christian school, and of the third trip to Colombia when God gave Juan David back. It also holds all my memories of my sweet friend Madai, a girl we met on our first mission trip to Mexico with this church, who ended up spending many summers living with a family nearby and was like a sister to me.

July holds all of my memories of finalizing Juan's adoption and bringing him home. It holds all my Cow Appreciation Day memories at Chick Fil-A (silly, but fun), and it holds all my memories of our trip to Guatemala on a mission trip and to Spain to reunite with Laura.

Besides the fun cow pictures, all the other memories are vivid reminders of God's hand in our lives.

Even when times are tough, it's hard to forget all the amazing things God has done for us when the memories pop up every day. It's hard to deny that God has been faithful in the past, so we know He'll be faithful again. It's hard to wonder if God is going to answer my prayer for the day when I see so many prayers answered in each memory picture I find of summers past.

If the memories aren't pictures of Colombia, Guatemala, or Spain, then they are quotes or things that I've posted from Bible studies I've taught during the summer.

No matter what, my summer memories always point to God and remind me where to focus my attention in this current season.

So if you're following my Facebook page and I'm posting a series of memories, know that I'm just remembering and reflecting on God's faithful presence in my life. If I repost the memory, it means it contains a sign from God that I never want to forget. The more we meditate on God's faithfulness in the past, the more we're apt to trust him in the day to day.

The summer I needed

I started this summer ready to fall apart. My heart was broken--as a teacher reluctantly moving grade levels, feeling unseen and unheard, as a wife unsure of the future and stuck in the past, as a helpless mom of a young adult child who lacked any sort of vision or self-care, and even as a daughter searching for recognition. I felt depleted and defeated, like giving all I had to give in every area wasn't enough. On top of that, planning ahead (my specialty) suddenly scared me to death.

Mike started a brand new job the day I started summer break, so that meant no vacation or travel plans for us. That was fine since we'd just gone on a cruise over spring break plus we'd lived off of our savings for the last three months, so we couldnt afford to do much this summer. I felt so depleted both emotionally and mentally by the time summer hit that I wouldn't have enjoyed a trip very much, anyway. What good did a plan do if something unforseen changed those plans?

A quiet, uneventful summer lay ahead, and I was perfectly fine with that. I could relive my travels to Colombia, Guatemala, and Spain through my daily memories on Facebook and look forward to possibly another grand trip some other time in the future. I didn't even have a Bible study lined up to teach or attend this year.

I spent the first part of the summer doing what I do best when I'm struggling through something serious, shutting the world out and giving myself the time and space I need to process, read, write, reflect, and pray. After surfacing from my books and journals a few weeks later, I found myself randomly saying yes to invitations I might not have always considered. I threw routine out the window (though my personality craves that structure) and just went with the flow of whatever came up each day. In doing so, I felt God pour back into me in many little ways that I didn't expect.

I didn't have the money to spend on a big (or even small) vacation, but I did have the money to meet with at least one friend or family member each week for tea or coffee. I normally go out for coffee with the same two friends all the time, but this summer I had a chance to get together with different friends, like my teammate (who I thought was my ex-teammate), my mom, a friend from Bible study that I hadn't seen in months, my husband, and my sons. I also got to visit and support my dear friends who supported me in Colombia who now live here and own the tea shop I frequented.

With no big plans or goals, no huge home cleanouts or renovations, I could play a lot of card games with my boys and my husband at random times of the day or night, sometimes for hours on end. We also found time to just sit around the table working puzzles that Mike brought home from work. I'll have to say, though rather spontaneous and unproductive, the summer was quite restful.

Since Juan and I both have a teacher badge for work, we took advantage of free movies for teachers every Wednesday. We saw the new remake of Aladdin, Toy Story 4, Men in Black International, Spiderman-Far from Home, Avengers End Game (Avengers-Infinity War at home the day before), and then Mike and I saw Lion King together and Breakthrough. Juan and I also visited a couple museums in downtown Dallas, took a quick trip to Houston to pick up his Colombian ID card at the consolate, and celebrated all of our adoption anniversary dates together (Gotcha Day--June 13, Adoption Day--July 11, Coming home to the U.S.--July 18th, and the day we met/Colombian Independence Day--July 20th), all the days we missed celebrating with him last year while he worked at Pine Cove all summer.

 Dallas Museum of Art

 Puzzle days

 Colombian Independence Day

--11 years since the day we met

Lion King--25 years after it originally came out in animation form (the first movie Mike and I ever went to see together)

 Free tea day

 Visiting the spot where JFK was assassinated

 Klyde Warren Park and the Perot Museum

 More random coffee/game dates

 Sounds of summer concerts in the park

 A quick trip to Houston

 Celebrating Adoption Day with Colombian food, of course

 More summer concerts

More coffee dates

We got our fill of free Chick-Fil-A on Cow Appreciation Day by hopping around to several restaurant locations, and we attended free concerts in the park as a family on Friday evenings. I also attended a first ever conference for Christian teachers called Teacher, Be Still--where I met up with an old friend I hadn't seen in almost 15 years, my study-buddy who helped me pass my teacher certification exams. God gave her to me as a support system when I first moved to Texas, and now He reunited us at a time when we both felt the need for such a conference.

Blanca and I reunited at Teacher, Be Still

I didn't do near the cleaning or organizing that I like to do in the summer--which I may regret soon, nor did I spend much quiet time alone. But besides taking care of all those needed doctor and dental appointments, I rested my soul and body and intentionally spent time with the people around me, for the most part, one at a time. That, my friend, is my style. The randomness, spontaneity, and lack of daily routine, not so much, but the interpersoal time spent with a friend or family member is exactly what I needed to recharge this summer.

I turned in my keys at the end of the school year not wanting to come back. Today I eagerly await to get my hands on those keys to get back into the classroom with a very real peace and serenity over my heart. I am ready for a new school year to begin and for 22 new little ones (some that I've already taught once in Pre-K) to look to me as their fearless leader over the next nine months. I'm so thankful for the opportunity and privilege to teach them, especially the ones I get to teach again. Had I moved to kindergarten, I would have missed that opportunity. I am thankful for every child God has already chosen for my classroom and thankful that He chose me to be their teacher--again.

If Teacups Could Talk

Before dogs and children, these teacups and this book were my favorite decorations to display.

My grandparents bought me this beautiful tea set in Romania back when I was a teenager. After spending a semester in Argentina and falling in love with the whole "mate" (/mah/-/tay/) tradition (sitting with friends and drinking a tea-like drink together every time you got together), I wanted to bring a similar tradition into my home. Tea time. A cherished, intentional time to share with friends.

Then came David, later two indoor dogs, then Juan, then life. Those beautiful tea cups and the book displayed with them, If Teacups Could Talk, got pushed back into a corner and now have a layer of dust on top of them. I haven't gotten them out in years.

Now, I meet up with friends at local coffee shops to share that cherished, intentional time. I hate crowds, I hate noise, and I hate gathering with large groups. But I absolutely love just sitting over a cup of coffee or tea with a friend, or my son, or my husband, or my mom. For the person who won't pick up a phone for the life of her, I can sit and talk for hours over a single cup of coffee at a coffee shop. It really is one of the best ways to get to know me when I have nothing else in front of me or occupying me. No dogs to let out. No animals to pet. No kids to get after. No house to pick up. No dishes to wash. I can make eye contact with whoever I'm with, observe their facial expressions and body language, and enjoy everything about a conversation that I can't do over a phone.

We haven't done much this summer as far as activities or travels. David and Mike have been working,  David and Juan served at camp, David has been fully involved in tons of church activities, and Juan and I have been taking advantage of free movies and other inexpensive outtings while we're off for the summer. But I have been able to get together with friends and family quite often for coffee or tea, and I'm so thankful for that time. It truly is one of my favorite things to do.

David and I have our favorite local coffee shop downtown where we'll sit and play Skipbo or Phase 10 while sipping our drinks. My mom and I like to frequent a specific Starbucks that has a large outdoor seating area where we can just sit with a cup of chai and talk in a way we probably wouldn't if we were at either one of our houses. Mike and I will grab a cup of coffee at a Starbucks right around the corner from where we attend ReEngage and then take it to the church to sit in the lobby together before going in. When we need some family time, we'll all four go to the coffee shop downtown and play games. Sure, a single drink can get expensive, but we can each get one expensive drink and enjoy each other's company for several hours and still come out cheaper than going to a movie as a family. My two sweet Bible study friends will meet me on a moment's notice and spend hours just catching up with each other. And my sweet teammate and I realized we both had a connection to a little tea room in Rockwall that my Colombian friends own, so we've been meeting there every week, getting to know each other in a way that we never have the time to do during the school year.

In fact, as I looked around that little tea room the other week and saw some of the books displayed on the shelves beside some tea cups, that old book on my shelf came to mind. As soon as I got home, I pulled it down, cleaned it up, and knew I found a new home for it--right in that little tea room. Oh, if teacups could talk--they'd have so many stories of relationships that grew over them.

My dream of decorating in teacups and displaying my tea set proudly will have to wait until another season of my life, perhaps when the dogs and kids are all grown and gone. For now, I'll enjoy and frequent my favorite local coffee shops and that cute little tea room (which now also sells coffee and makes a good Colombian breakfast plate!).

Defeated to Victorious--Part 2

I'm not a talker. I keep to myself most of the time, especially if I'm struggling with something. The last thing I want to do is talk to someone before I've even had a chance to process things on my own first. I have so many thoughts running around in my mind at all times, but if I try to talk it out, the words just don't come out nearly as sophisticated as I intend them to. In fact, they get all jumbled together and come out sounding like a mess. I get lost midsentence between one thought and the next, I lose my train of thought, and I just shut down and shut everyone out. I process my thoughts and emotions best by writing them down--thus why writing a book through my grief after a failed adoption was truly the best therapy in the world for me.

So, I did what all introverts do. I pushed it all deep down inside and just kept moving, trying to survive the last few weeks of the school year. Until I could find the time and energy to shut the world out long enough to journal my heart out, I focused on survival. I knew summer would be here soon enough. In the meantime, I had two close friends checking up on me, texting me often with encouragement and Scripture, and praying me through. One close to my age that I count on for wise, Biblical advice and encouragement, the other much more seasoned than I who I know I can always count on to pray for me even when I don't have the words to explain my need. We are always there for one another, and I'm so thankful for the role God has had them play out in my life over the last ten years or so.

I started my summer at the local Christian bookstore, gathering books to occupy my mind and help me sort through all the mixed emotions I was dealing with. I read a book by Natalie Grant about learning how to find your voice, another book about learning how to shine, and then another one about learning how to be resilient, no matter what your circumstances are. The last book, Becoming Resilient, was written by Donna Gibbs, a professional counselor who wrote the book in a way that mimicks a counseling process, as long as you are willing to talk or journal your way through it and answer the questions at the end of each chapter. I filled up quite a bit of my journal over those first few weeks of summer. At first, I felt like all I did was vent and stir up more anger and emotion than I anticipated-and probably slipped and said things aloud that were meant only for my journal. But I am amazed at the journey that book took me on in my journaling process, leading me to a very real victory over my emotions and my circumstances in a way I only could have hoped.

I finished up a Love God Greatly Bible study on Choosing to be Brave and started a new one online called Walking in Victory. I was determined to bravely walk out of this season of defeat in victory.

Everyone is suffering through something. Things are always going to happen that knock us to the ground and leave us questioning how it happened and why. The key is learning how to suffer well and come back stronger rather than remain stuck and paralyzed.

God allows suffering for a purpose. He may allow us to suffer in order to show us a different facet of His character. He may want to use our experience to later comfort and guide someone else. He may put us in a difficult situation specifically to guide us somewhere we never would have gone otherwise. He may use our suffering as our platform, a way to give us credibility that will draw others closer to us and to Him. But it always has a purpose, and it can almost always be used positively in someone else's life if we let it.

In fact, as I began looking for ways I could thank God in the midst of my trouble, He pointed out to me how He'd already paired me with at least one other person for every single trial I faced. Every. Single. One. Even the most surprising challenges that had hit us out of nowhere, and God gave me someone going through the same thing.

Here are a few excerpts from Becoming Resilient that challenged me.

The last semester has been hard. Really hard. But looking back, things birthed and grew that never could have without the hard.

I had to surrender, to throw my hands up in the air, to give up my desires and accept that God had something greater. 

My son's constant need for guidance and nurture at his age can be a bit overwhelming, frustrating, and draining, but how can I deny that he tells me he loves me so much more now than he ever did. I'm thankful that it's me he's hanging out with rather than some random girl on the street. I'm thankful for the way he opens up about his feelings about friendships and relationships, showing me what's really on his heart. I'm thankful he's plopped on my couch rather than running around with people we don't know and avoiding home altogether. I'm thankful for his honesty and for the reminders that he's looking for unconditional love from me, despite his physical appearance or unmet expectations. Older adopted kids come testing those boundaries, and I guess he's still testing them now, making sure we'll still love him no matter what. 

We may not have the money we had coming in earlier in the year, but we haven't been in need for a single thing, we're still out of debt other than our house, and we can still enjoy an occasional coffee or ice cream date together or as a family. My husband now works a mile down the road, works hours that are much more convenient for our family, and we see each other so much more throughout the week than we have for the last few years. He has time to work in the garage on trucks with our youngest son, who is soaking up every bit that he can learn from his dad about mechanics. We have time to go for walks in the evenings and can attend an amazing marriage program at our church called ReEngage on a weekly basis. What marriage can't benefit by focusing one night a week in a program to learn how God intended marriage to work? Because of our struggles, there's a definite humility in our relationship that didn't exist before, and I'm thankful we've decided that we're on the same team and are willing to work together to fix what's broken. An added benefit is meeting other couples and watching their marriages transform right before our eyes. It's truly an inspiring ministry that should exist in every single church. How can I not be thankful for those two hours we now spend together each week?

The thought of teaching kindergarten made me want to throw up, literally, because I really thought I'd moved on from early childhood and put it behind me. Some people are great with little ones, but they truly burned me out and left me feeling both bored (with the content I had to teach) and empty (they sucked all my energy and didn't give me a moment to regroup all day long). But I had to realize that my principal meant nothing against me. In fact, he meant the whole move as a compliment to me, knowing that my experience teaching four-year-olds prepared me well for the  task of teaching kindergarten, and he also complimented my easy-going personality to be a good fit with the exisiting team. True, he didn't hear my voice about where I thrive as a teacher, nor did he take notice of my quiet strengths on my team, but this was about his school, not just about me. 

I went for a walk one morning and just cried out to God, surrending it all to Him again, asking him to change ME and show me the good that could/would/already had begun to come through this difficult semester. I asked God to speak to me in a very tender way. I prayed for my son, for my husband, for my marriage, for my family, for my principal, for my previous teammates and my future teammates, and even for the teacher taking my place in my beloved second grade spot. I accepted that God had a purpose for me in kindergarten, either to place me with a certain teammate or a certain student that needed something only I could offer them. And I met with my previous teammate every week for tea, allowing myself to grow closer to someone that I normally would have distanced myself from due to the fact that we'd no longer be teammates (that's the introvert in me).

God did indeed meet me in a very tender way through the victory I experienced as I journaled through that book over a course of a few weeks, freeing me from so much negativity and hurt, helping me to change my perspective and find compassion for those who hurt me. He met me tenderly by giving me a new treasured friend as we met for tea each week. He strengthened my marriage and continues to soften my heart, and he gave me a renewed compassion for my oldest son, reminding me that He specifically chose me to be his mom precisely during this "prepare to launch" phase of his life. There's something that my husband and I can give him that obviously no one else could or He would have chosen someone else for the task.

He also met me very tenderly when I got the phonecall from my principal saying there had been some changes and he was moving me back to my second grade team! I had to ask my son the next day if that phone call really took place the day before to make sure I hadn't just dreamed it! Words can't even describe how thankful I was to get that phonecall. I'm so glad I kept meeting my previous teammate for tea each week because now she's my teammate again, and our close friendship can only make our team even stronger. :) God knew and had a plan all along. 

I'm especially thankful for summer, for the time it allows me to decompress, reflect, spend time alone, read for hours on end, and take time to write so I can process my thoughts and feelings. For my friends and family who get so frustrated with me for not talking when I'm struggling, I'm sorry. That's just not how God wired me. In time I'll open up, when I'm ready and I've had a chance to hash things out with God and my journal first. Until then, please be patient with me. Pray for me and encourage me. A simple text of encouragement speaks volumes to me, especially when I can read it over and over again as needed. 

Yet between the broken cracks

A tiny light flickered.

Guiding me in the darkness,

Shedding light on each step,

Iluminating purpose in the pain.

Growth beneath the ashes.

Unexpected changes.

Surprising companions.

Pure, heartfelt gratitude.

Hidden joy.

What once broke me, defeated me,

Gave me the opportunity to shine. 

Light only shines when there's a darkness to overcome.

The dark could not defeat the light within me. 

From Defeated to Victorious--Part 1

Where do I even start to fill in the gaps from my last post until now?

I should have known when God gave me the word SHINE for this year that a period of darkness had to be on the way. I mean, everyone knows that things don't shine in the light--they shine in the dark.

This last semester held harder and deeper challenges than I ever expected that left me quite fragile and broken. Defeated. I kept putting one foot in front of the other in order to just survive what seemed to be a series of heavy heartaches and keep myself moving forward. But Satan was after me full force and attacked me from many angles.

As a mom. As a wife. As a sister. As a daughter. As a teacher. No matter what I did, I always felt like it wasn't enough. I wasn't enough. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop the heartache from hitting or keep it away.

We started out the 2018-19 school year so hopeful, happy, and thankful. God miraculously opened the door for Juan to try a third semester at DBU, provided funding for him in abundance, our financial status was better than it's ever been, and Mike and I were both very happy and confident in our careers. Our 20th anniversary was coming, and we found ourselves in the perfect financial position that actually let us dream of and pursue a grand celebration. This was going to be our year.

But right before Christmas, the first of many surprising challenges started to hit us. First, we had to move Juan back home from DBU. Not only did we have to deal with a very angry, depressed boy who knew he'd let everyone down, including himself, but he also sat for almost three months without a job. Thankfully, God opened the door for him to start working as an aide in a special needs classroom at David's high school. At least he has something that makes him feel professional for the time being, but he's still pretty lost as to what to do with himself in order to start pursuing a career for the future. And conversations with him make it pretty obvious that he's not going anywhere fast.

My children seemed to have traded ages. My seventeen-year-old acts like he is going on twenty-one, and my twenty-one-year-old acts like he's going on seventeen. My seventeen-year-old's broadened world experiences gave him wisdom beyond his peers that really makes him stand out, even as quiet as he is in a crowd. I gave him wings, and now he's learning to fly. My young mini-me is always telling me to leave him alone because he's got this. My baby boy has grown up and is turning into a fine young man, one who needs a bit more space from Mom. I supppose that was the goal, right?

On the other hand, my twenty-one-year-old's gaps in normal child development put him at a disadvantage when looking at life side by side with his peers. I see the effects of childhood trauma so much more now than I did before, and it significantly impacts his ability to move forward into adulthood. Even he will readily admit that the thought of embracing adulthood fills him with great fear and anxiety. He definitely can't say he's got this, and when he thinks he does, he asks for help shortly after. When you're dealing with a blend of immaturity mixed with Colombian/Latin culture that puts a high priority on taking time to rest and knowing that there's always tomorrow to start something new, that just compounds the problem. He's got big dreams but very little self-motivation to start working toward them. A "learned helplessness" that is sadly very common in kids like him.

It's definitely an awkward thing trying to parent these boys who need very different types of parenting. I'm thankful for online groups filled with other adoptive/foster parents dealing with the same thing. The younger biological one ready to fly away and the older one digging his feet in the ground, stuck. Parenting kids from trauma (even trauma in the womb) doesn't look anything like parenting a biological child, especially at the age that they're supposed to be ready to launch from the nest.

Mike and I knew that our marriage really needed something big after all we've dealt with adoption-related over the last ten years, so we booked our very first cruise together. We'd wanted to go on a cruise for our tenth anniversary, but the adoption expenses held us back. So we finally booked it. now ten years later. just a few weeks before our 20th anniversary during spring break and literally counted down the days.  Little did we know how fiercely Satan planned to attack our marriage just a few days before we were set to leave. An attack so fierce that it left me battling demons from the past that tempted me to throw in the towel completely, despite all that we've overcome in the last 20 years. The morning before the cruise, I didn't even want to go.

We did leave together the next morning to "celebrate" the last 20 years, but those demons packed themselves in our bags and followed us on our ocean tour of Cozumel, Belize, and Roatan. We made some good memories, ate a lot of food, won a snorkeling excursion, took great sunrise/sunset pictures, and experienced new things, and I'm grateful, but I still struggle to look back and know it wasn't the celebration we intended it to be. Our financial stability had crashed overnight, so we didn't even get to take advantage of the opportunity to see and experience all that each port had to offer. Nothing turned out the way I'd envisioned it as a dark cloud hung over our heads and hearts.

School was my safe place. Just like any other time I've gone through hard things, my classroom is my safe haven where I can leave everything else at the door and focus all my energy on my kids. Mike and I worked on rebuilding the broken parts of our marriage and family at home, but I spoke nothing of it to anyone at school except briefly to two teammates. Besides that, no one had a clue that I was struggling through so much at home.

I'd started the year on cloud nine, so incredibly thankful to be teaching second graders again rather than four-year-olds. I made it clear to the whole school how happy I was about the change. I had a challenging year with a few more special needs in my classroom than I bargained for and much less support than I needed, but I kept pushing forward, tucking away ideas to make next year better and more efficient. I jumped in to lead my team, though I felt pretty lost myself, trying to understand all that changed in the five years I'd been out of second grade, but we all made it to the end as a strong team. We envisioned a promising year ahead for the 2019-20 school year. So you can imagine my shock and disappointment when my principal made some last minute changes and asked me to move to kindergarten temporarily to be able to move some other teachers around. I was heartbroken, to say the least. So much for my safe place--or for all the ideas I'd tucked away for next year.

I knew God had my back, and I tried to focus on anything positive I could think of regarding the change, but I just couldn't understand why God was pulling out the rug from beneath me. He knew how much I loved teaching second grade and how thankful I was to NOT be teaching little ones anymore. I'd worked so hard all year to step up and lead my team, and I felt like no one even noticed the extra time and energy I'd put into doing so. There was nothing I could have done to avoid this last minute change, I guess. By the time I processed all that happened and spoke up for myself, it was too late. So I spent the last three weeks of school tearfully packing everything up rather than organizing and getting ready for a strong year ahead.

Other challenges surfaced, as well, over the last semester, challenges that knocked us face to the ground and felt like someone smashed our faces deep into the sand below us. I ended the school year on a very low note and really didn't have much enthusiasm for the summer ahead or to return next school year. One challenge would have been enough, but these just seemed to come out of nowhere from every possible angle. They had to be a strategic attack of the enemy.

Defeated.

The rug beneath me gone.

All I'd worked for, planned for, dreamed of.

Hopes dashed.

Dreams crashed.

Only disappointments lingered.

Broken. 

I didn't ask for any of these disappointments, nor did I ever expect any of them. But I did have a choice as to how I responded to them. I could hold on to the anger, bitterness, hurt, and disappointment. Or I could ...

I'm so thankful things didn't end here.

Stay tuned for Part 2 ...