So, I just finished another full week of being a substitute teacher. I’m very weary, but I feel a sense of hope and satisfaction compared to the despair of the previous weeks.
Perhaps students still listen to a plea for mutual respect.
I plead.
They were pretty good—-well behaved—this week.
That is some victory.
This is my weekend to work at the hotel, so I am running thin today.
Winter appears gone.
It’s raining.
A good friend sent be a photo of Brian and me this week. I’ve always been camera shy, and you can tell that from this picture, but it is a good picture, and yes, Nancy, it made me cry. She warned me.
It’s really good of my handsome husband.
These past three years are a blur with snapshots of clarity in my reactions and responses to trauma.
I simply cannot recall some things at all—others I can remember moment by moment.
Trauma is something I am gradually accepting and dealing with. It isn’t over yet.
I found an entrepreneurial high school student to help me clean up the yard. He is very reasonable to pay, but the catch is his school commitments and baseball. I’m still really glad I found him. He will come as his schedule allows. I’m grateful.
Ed is on the mend. Grateful.
We are breathing the fresh air of Corgi Hollows again, listening to frog song at night, and relishing the coming burst of green.
Expectations. They are dangerous!
Yet God promised us these seasons.
Do you know how I take comfort in that?
He keeps His promises.
We can live with that truth.
MARANATHA!