Faith & A Text

A women’s heart only weighs about nine ounces. I find that hard to believe because for the last few months, mine has felt more like a ten pound rock sitting in the center of my chest. Life is hard and sometimes it is easier to tuck away the unpleasantness of it all in a tight little corner of your stomach and I guess eventually that starts to tug on the heart – causing it to weigh more and more. I’m no doctor – but that makes sense to me. So, last Sunday morning as I was driving to the grocery store my heavy heart was feeling a little heavier. I decided to visit my grandma and grandpa at their permanent address – East Resthaven. I cried a bit on the way there and also thought to myself – are you crazy?? – you have way too much to do today, but I kept driving. When I got there, I walked quietly over to their precious spot on the lawn. Oddly enough there was not another person there that morning. As I sat and visited, I started praying and of course the tears start rolling. I said, “God please let me know I’ll see these beautiful people again, because I don’t know it and I absolutely need to KNOW it. How do some people know it? Really, I want that faith. No, I NEED that faith, but I would be lying to myself and everyone else if I said "I know." I’m sorry but I just don’t have it. At least I didn't on that particular day. So, I prayed and talked to my grandma and I prayed some more. Then I got a text, and I’m sorry God, but I dropped the F bomb (in the nicest voice possible) and thought to myself “Not now!” After my visit with my grandma, I had a short visit with Little Lee. I miss him too. When I climbed back in to my truck, I remembered the text. These are the words I read on that text: God Loves You and So Do I. I sat in my truck and I cried for the next several minutes. It was difficult to regain my composure. Driving home my heart still felt heavy, but it felt warm and comforted. I can’t say the sadness was gone but it felt more tender and less gut wrenching than it had before. My friend, Linda Cashman, sent me that text from church. I guess I received a little lesson in faith on a Sunday morning ~ I pray that I continue to believe that voice inside who whispered to me just whose hands guided her typing in my cell phone number on that very special Sunday.

Thank you Linda Cashman and thank you God. Amen.

It's May

It’s May. Every May for the past sixteen years, I start the annual countdown to the last day of school. If you work or attend school, it’s just what you do. This year, however, I just can’t wrap my mind around the fact that we are winding down. Soon, the year will be over. Ordinarily it’s a time to rejoice. It’s a time to breathe deep and say internally, “I made it through another year.” This year that just does not feel quite right – somehow it just misses the mark. I find myself holding on to each day and trying to embrace the here and the now. I know in my heart and in my soul that these days will not come again. I’m not ready to say goodbye to this year.

Sixteen school years and I could not tell you the number of extraordinary people I have been honored to spend my days with. Time is marked off by school years. Much of my life and its milestones are measured and remembered by the school year and the people I shared it with.

Throughout this incredible journey, I have been blessed with beautiful friendships. I have been profoundly impacted by the love, dedication and spirit of the amazing teachers who have shared their days with me. Truly, I feel honored to have served them.

It’s May. Soon enough the school year will be done. This year, I will not only say goodbye to a challenging school year, but I will begrudgingly say farewell to an extraordinary group of young ladies who have inspired me more than they can possibly know.

It’s May. I plan to rejoice every day.