It's All About the Alphabet

Teaching is exhausting.
My brain is tired from so much thinking and planning. My legs are tired from standing and walking and dancing and sitting cross-legged. 

But teaching is 

I am right where I want to be, teaching Grade One. Every day, I ask, "Are you ready for a great day of learning and laughing and singing?" Sometimes I hardly recognize myself in the classroom. Who is this formerly not brave, fear-filled, doubting person laughing and singing and teaching??
It's just a two-month term position, covering the last of a maternity leave, but for me and my history with teaching, this is the perfect job. 
I wish it didn't have to end but when I feel panic creeping into my brain at two o'clock in the morning, I simply repeat, "Everything will work out," and I believe it. 

Which is why I also keep repeating, "Put me where I need to be."
Put me where I can make a difference in the lives and learning of young people with my enthusiasm and skills and hard-won pearls of wisdom. 
Because I also believe this very strongly: my life has a purpose and I am here to be in service to others. Unfortunately, so far, I haven't landed in a space where I am needed for any length of time (or for any significant purpose) or where I am wanted (my enthusiasm being too much for some, I guess) so I'm hoping the classroom -- and whatever grade -- is where I truly belong. Where I can do the most good.

And yet,
I miss writing and delivering sermons. I miss my spiritual writing. I miss writing, period, but writing is no longer financially viable; I can't make a living at it and the pandemic has taken the guts out of publishing, anyway. 
So, I've never been so thankful to have my education degree. I've never been so happy in a classroom! Grade One, no less, after 25 years of considering myself to be a high school teacher. 

And then,
on the first day of school, I received an email from the publicist for the publisher releasing my "Alphabet of Faith" in November. An email about promoting that book.
I'm absolutely a believer in guideposts and directional signs, in the tiny hints that fall in our path every day or every week or so. 
I mean, the first day of school, the first day of my new adventure, the first day of my new career -- of becoming who I'm meant to be -- and the publisher of my very first book of spiritual writing contacts me. 

So I'm in a weird place. 
On one hand, needing to work (for the income) is the best thing to ever happen to me. It forced me to look honestly at the writing and admit it's not enough, and it forced me to face my fears about teaching head on and push through them. I have to work therefore the fears can't hold me down. I can't quit when things get hard, I can't use the old excuses to avoid teaching. 
On the other hand, I am just starting out in two new directions with my writing, with possibilities in both spiritual writing and in writing books for children. Talk about weird! 

Okay, here's the biggest sign: I'm teaching a new "phonemic awareness" program in this short-term job (groupings of sounds rather than the sounds of the letters) so I get to wear alphabet t-shirts and talk about words all morning. Am I being told that it's all about the alphabet right now?! 

All this is to say, I'm really busy teaching (and lesson planning - whew, that's the hard work, let me tell you) so I'm not getting to share, here in this new blog, the thoughts and ideas I want to write about. Hopefully, as I get into a routine and a rhythm, I'll have more Sundays free for writing (that's my intention, to keep a writing Sabbath), and I'll be able to post more. 

I believe -- so it will happen. 


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