I feel helpless.
I am watching students’ lives spin out of control and all I get to do is notify parents of violations to the district’s code of conduct.
I am saddened that such bright potential is so boisterous, disruptive and clueless about it all – thinking it hilarious that lying to me is a game of one-upsmanship among others to see who can cause me to “pop my cork.”
I am glad for a personal trainer and that I could head to my usual workout immediately after my day because I knew I would feel physically better afterward.
Thank you, God, for sweat.
I am glad for a husband who asks about my day and really means it.
He got to hear.
But I know someone else was listening as well – God.
Back pedal from today to this past Sunday when I found out that a dear friend’s husband left her in November. She asked about my sister and I started to cry. “Just pray,” I whispered between breaths.
We embraced and I told her I would be praying for her and that prayer was not a last resort.
I say I believe that and I do. So before I turn on my “breathing machine” that helps my sleep apnea, before I pull the three layers of blankets up to my chin and turn to my left side to fall asleep – I will pray. For my friend. For students. For myself.
I can’t carry these burdens.
But Jesus can. The Bible tells me so.