shouts of joy

Here we are at #teachersummercamp. Two of my teacher friends, Sonya and Chelsea, also took summer classes this summer. Sonya is a teaching principal at a small school in Oakhurst, CA and Chelsea is a teacher/chaplain at a school in Sacramento, CA. They are some of the best teachers I know with huge hearts and a passion for teaching about Jesus. I have enjoyed our #teachersummercamp adventures even though Sonya was at another campus several hours away, we've kept in touch. And every Monday we share/exchange articles, YouTube videos, or stories that we found entertaining or intriguing. These two women have been lifesavers over the past year. We started #teachersummercamp 6 weeks ago and have finally finished. They will start school again in just a couple of weeks. I'm glad that they are allowing me to stay a member in the teaching club even though I will be taking classes this year and substituting instead of teaching full-time. They bring sunshine to a cloudy day. Bes...

--> This morning I drove toward the sun like a moth flies toward the lamp. I was reminded how gently the sun comes out everyday, so slow and patient. I lifted my hands up as I sang a song that has been my theme song lately, Brokenness Aside by All Sons and Daughters (if you haven't heard it, just Youtube it real quick). My word for the week is Gentle. I’ve challenged the young ladies in our Friday lunch book club to choose 1 word every week. 1 word in which we independently attempt to become more of every day. 1 word that might be challenging to put on every morning, but might add a sparkle to our wardrobe. They choose such hard words every week – Vulnerable, Inviting, Engage. The experiences they share when we meet every Friday are so fun. I’ve been so inspired by them. As the weeks begin their own dwindling spiral to a cliff’s edge, I have begun dwindling toward the edge of insanity. My mind cannot stop, I wake up at night recalculating the 1 million and 2 thing...

If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy, I can only conclude that I was not made for here  If the flesh that I fight is at best only light and momentary, then of course I'll feel nude when to where I'm destined I'm compared Speak to me in the light of the dawn Mercy comes with the morning I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me For we, we are not long here Our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it - Brooke Fraser