Well, it’s six pm and I haven’t done this or any writing in at least three weeks. My hands feel stiff and my fingers are resisting falling into a steady pattern. My brain feels clogged with unwritten ideas, but at the same time the well of ideas seems pretty dry. I know what I might possibly want to write about, but after running numbers and transactions all day, the creative side is resisting penetration. Much of me is resisting penetration.

When I am at the bank all day, it’s like me closes down. When I get home, it’s a challenge to un-cram myself from the “banker” shoe I’ve been stuffed into all day. I resent the time spent at the bank since it takes time from things I would rather be doing, a person I would rather be being. I hate that I disappear when the bank name tag goes on. I’m still a hard worker in all, but the real, creative me goes under and she is hard to tap after the time clock is punched.

Lately, I feel like I have to hide even more of me than usual, since I know I’m going to be leaving the bank in eleven weeks. Yeah! I am really excited (and stressed) about teaching in the fall, but I can’t let anyone at the bank know. I need to use any extra time I find to work on preparing for the fall, but my extra time at the bank is a no go. I just have to twiddle my thumbs. I’m so paranoid I’m afraid to open my planner or my phone where notes and messages about teaching in a fall are all over the place. And It’s only going to become even more difficult to be silent when the real me begins to claw at the surface as the fall approaches.

I know, most teachers and students are relived summer is here. I know my nieces and nephew are beside themselves now that they’re free for a few months. Free from “teachers, free from books, free from teachers dirty looks….” But I can’t wait to reenter the classroom. I have been away for a semester, and I can’t wait till I slide back into the role I feel I was created to do. The real me feels so stifled and frustrated when I’m deprived of writing and teaching. When I have to pretend I’m something I’m not and quench the gifts God gave me.

Oh, they do come out in other ways like an underground spring, bubbling up from the surface and diving back under ground. My gifts bless my other endeavors, but they can’t be fully expressed without a classroom and students, even if the classroom is a library and the student is one I’m tutoring.

I long to teach, to see a child’s face light up when something that previously had them quaking in their shoes is conquered. I love to see my students go on to succeed and reach their goals because I helped them to remove one tiny obstacle from their path.

How can we Build a Foundation of Faith in our Families?


By Abiding in Jesus.

Let me show you how.

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