The Calendar That Doesn't Change

In the corner of the house sits a calendar that hasn’t changed. It just hangs there….October 2023. I stare blankly at it, but the thought of changing it to the right month and year never once crosses my mind. So, the calendar just sits in that dark little corner, never changing because the passing of time ignites unwelcomed feelings.

Every time I walk by that calendar, I can’t help but think my dad actually saw that month. Because every day before October 13th, 2023, my dad was there. He was here. He really could have been standing right there, looking at that same calendar page.

But now, the days, weeks, and months pass…all those unflipped calendar pages are days that I lived without my dad. It’s a strange feeling. There’s such a clear boundary line between before and after. I still don’t know what to call that boundary day. It stings every time I have to try and decide what to actually say. Oftentimes, it’s just ‘that day.’

‘That day’ now seems so long ago, but the pain comes in waves as fresh and as deep as that first day. The phenomenon of time healing our wounds after grief is strange. Sure, time helps… but on the other hand, every single day that passes is one day further away from those last moments. I constantly find myself counting the number of days, weeks, and months that have passed. Now, a year has passed. I can’t quite grasp it....A year has passed.. Once again, the phenomenon of time strikes… It was the longest year of my life but also somehow the fastest. The past couple of months leading up to one year have brought on more feelings, familiar to the first days after losing my dad. Once again, shock. Once again, disbelief. Once again, scrambled thoughts. Brain fog. Helplessness. Fear. Brokenness. Desperateness.

All that’s left to do is look up. Look up in faith, more grateful than ever that our God is a God who saves. He gives life. He raises the dead to life. He’s made a way for us to live eternally in His presence. I can hardly worship anymore without tears flooding my eyes. Every time, I think about my dad worshiping the King on His throne in heaven. Oh, what a year he’s had in the presence of the King. Although, I’m sure there are no days, months, or years to be counted.

There are probably no calendars up there either. Yet, I’m left here… still staring at our unchanged calendar. 

Truthfully, I’m not sure I’m quite ready to turn that calendar page yet. So, it will stay there yet a little longer…October 13th, 2023. I miss you, Dad. 

Grief Knows No Limits

There are no boundary lines.

No pretty white fences to either contain it or keep it out.

No cages to keep it locked up and hidden.

At each and every turn, it finds a way to be present. 

When just for a second you thought it was giving you a break,

It’s still there, lurking behind the scenes.

A pain that’s so unexplainable, yet demands to be understood.

Grief makes the rules, but then doesn’t follow them. 

Grief knows no limits. 

It finds a way into the happy spaces, just to remind you what you’re missing. 

It slips into the stillness, sometimes peacefully, and sometimes with crippling force.

The places that once felt safe and whole, now feel unnerving and empty.

You listen and listen to all the advice of those just trying to help.

One minute it makes sense, but the next it leaves you cringing.

At times anger races through every inch of your veins.

When you think for a moment you can keep it together,

Your thoughts are flooded and the grief takes over.

Grief knows no limits.

It’s always there with perfect attendance; Grief never leaves.

It somehow finds a way to beat you to your own future,

Painting even your dreams of what could be with a blanket of sadness.

Time moves recklessly fast, 

Leaving your heart trampled as it races right over you. 

Another day, week, month goes by without them.

All you wish for is the day before losing them,

The day before you knew this pain. 

But grief knows no limits.

Sometimes it gives you a warning.

Other times it lurks behind the scenes and takes your breath away.

It takes up so much space that your mind can hardly function. 

Its job is never done.

It’s with you when the sun rises;

It’s with you when the sun goes down.

Sometimes it even shows up when you finally fall asleep,

In both dreams and nightmares alike. 

Grief knows no limits.

As you desperately try to gather and hold onto every memory, 

The fear of forgetting taunts you.

The life you once knew is but a memory.

The person you once were vanishes.

Grief is so incredibly complex and constantly changing.

It’s a variety of emotions tangled into one.

As you grasp to connect to this new reality,

Everything around you has changed in some way, shape, or form. 

Grief knows no limits.

Your friendships and relationships feel different.

Your job feels different.

Your passions feel different.

Even everyday mundane tasks feel different.

Your world is different.

Yet, you see the world around you moving on as if nothing has changed.

You’re desperate for something to feel normal again.

Nothing is normal. 

Grief knows no limits.

It continues to dance its way through every part of your life.

There’s no place that it doesn’t reach.

Escaping it is impossible.

Grief is now a crucial part of who you are.

Not a day goes by without experiencing it in some way.

But in an odd way, there is a sense of comfort in carrying this grief.

Because to grieve, in this new life, feels like the closest thing you have to loving the one you grieve.

We grieve, because we love… and love knows no limits.

Sometimes God Doesn't Part The Red Sea

        Sometimes God doesn’t part the Red Sea. There it is—I said it. While maybe this sounds like a lack of faith, I assure you it isn’t. I believe God absolutely did, and could part the Red Sea again. What I’m saying is that sometimes He doesn’t.

         If you don’t know this Old Testament story, it’s found in Exodus 14, but here is a very brief summary. The Israelites had been slaves in Egypt many years, and after much begrudging, Pharaoh finally let them go. However, God hardened Pharaoh’s heart (yes, you read that right…God hardened his heart… that is a story for another time!) and he sent his army out after the Israelites. As the Israelites scrambled in fear, God tells Moses to raise his staff and stretch out his hand, and the Red Sea would be divided so the Israelites could pass through it and escape the Egyptians.

        “And the people of Israel went into the midst of the sea on dry ground, the waters being a wall to them on their right hand and on their left.” -Exodus 14:22

        Did you catch it??? Dry ground. Not only was the Red Sea parted for the Israelites, but they made their way through it on completely dry ground. Sometimes, God does part the Red Sea. And when He does, we get to celebrate in those dry ground moments, knowing without a doubt that God has made a way. Those miraculous, incredible moments are stories of God’s power and providence that as believers we cling to– knowing that He can and will do it again. 

        But that isn’t my point today. Sometimes God doesn’t part the Red Sea. Instead, maybe you find yourself struggling to make your way through deep waters. Maybe you’re called to step out of the boat, off the dry ground, right into the waves. Maybe you end up in a fiery furnace, or a lion’s den. Maybe the miracle you were looking for didn’t happen. The prayer you’ve prayed a million times hasn’t been answered. You had faith, you thought God was going to make a way, but He didn’t. He didn’t act according to your own expectations. Or maybe you just can't see the way that He did make. As far as you can tell, there is no dry ground in sight.

        Here comes the questions… Why? Why didn’t God make a way for me? Why isn’t He answering my prayer? Why didn’t He part the Red Sea? Truth be told, sometimes I think the answers to these types of questions are unsatisfying. They're the kind of answers that require bold faith– proclaiming that we believe God can, even if He doesn’t. The kind of faith that worships God’s goodness and power, before it’s seen the waters move. Like Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego's words to King Nebuchadnezzar before being thrown into the fiery furnace:

        “If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up.” -Daniel 3:17-18

        God is able to, and He will. BUT, if He doesn’t, I still won’t turn away from Him. Seriously, this verse gives me goosebumps every time I read it. I desperately want that kind of faith. 

        Alright… but still, what about Jeremiah 29:11? God has plans to prosper me and not to harm me, doesn’t He?

        “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” -Jeremiah 29:11

        First off, if you haven’t heard it before, we typically don’t read the Bible right. When we take a verse at a time and try to apply it to our own context, we miss out on historical, cultural, and other context that is crucial for interpreting Scripture correctly. For example, just reading a little more in Jeremiah provides you with the context that this statement was directed to the exiles in Babylon, and Jeremiah was speaking of God’s future plan to rescue them and return them to their home. These words were directed towards a people who were right smack in the middle of their suffering. If you read one verse prior to 11, you’ll find these words,

        “For thus says the Lord: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will visit you, and I will fulfill to you my promise and bring you back to this place.” 

-Jeremiah 29:10

        70 years. How about that timeline? God has plans to give you a hope and a future, but for now, you’re here... Right in the middle of your suffering. But God, who sees the whole picture when we can hardly even see what’s immediately in front of us, says it’s going to be okay. He is going to move. He is going to act. He is going to redeem and restore you. In fact, He's already been at work this whole time doing just that. It just may not always follow the how and the when that you’re hoping for.

        “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.” -Romans 8:28

        Alright, now my goal isn’t to burst your bubble and take away all your confidence and hope. Yes, we can have hope because even if this ‘thing’ doesn’t seem good right now, something good will come from it. However, this ‘good’ the Apostle Paul speaks of isn’t earthly prosperity. He spoke of eternal goodness, which can be vastly different from how we tend to apply this verse to our own lives. Often it’s used to encourage believers in difficult circumstances that everything is going to work out and be okay. Which, while that is true to an extent, that ‘working out for good’ part might not happen in the way you’re looking for, especially here on earth. If you really read the verse, God isn’t promising that everything will be good, He’s promising that He can use all things for good. And dare I say it, maybe that ‘good’ isn’t earthly pleasures or happiness. I mean look at the disciples… How many of them were martyred for following Jesus? Seriously… I encourage you to go look it up. Because maybe this 'good' that Paul was speaking of is much, much more than anything here on earth—it's an eternal goodness that we can't even fathom. 

       Maybe that ‘good’ that God has for you isn’t speaking of prosperity or success. Maybe it’s about the Kingdom mission and other people. Maybe it’s God shaping and molding you, transforming you into a new creation. These types of ‘good’ things often don’t come easy. Oftentimes, this shaping and molding, this transformation, this healing…all come through suffering. Through trials. Through waiting.

        Yet, we can endure, push on ahead, and walk through the waters because the God who CAN part the Red Sea is walking right through the waters with us—constantly working in our lives.

So there it is. Being a believer doesn’t mean that God is always going to part the Red Sea. In fact, maybe He never will. Maybe your pain, your suffering, and your trial will endure until the day Jesus brings you back to Him. Maybe your life is one struggle onto the next…where you feel like you’re constantly walking through deep waters, rather than on dry ground. Friend, if you find yourself right in the midst of it, I couldn’t tell you exactly why things are going that way. But, I can tell you this: If you find yourself staring out at the sea, waiting for God to act– I get it. It’s painful. It’s frustrating. It causes fear and doubt. It makes us angry. It makes us question. 

        But cling to Him who holds the answers. Maybe, He will part the sea ahead of you, and maybe He won’t. But know that the God we serve has the power and authority to part the Red Sea and this same God loves you with an everlasting love. He gives joy that is eternal–not based on your circumstances. This same God has promised to go with you when you pass through deep waters...to carry you through. Even when it doesn’t seem like He’s making a way, He is. He has. And He will again and again and again. 

        “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.” -Isaiah 43:2 

        “You are the God who works wonders; you have made known your might among the peoples. You with your arm redeemed your people, the children of Jacob and Joseph. When the waters saw you, O God, when the waters saw you, they were afraid; indeed, the deep trembled... Your way was through the sea, your path through the great waters; yet your footprints were unseen." -Psalms 77:14-16,19

I'm Still Worthy

For those that know me and have been following my blog, you most definitely know that over the last year and a half I’ve been fighting an ongoing battle with a destroyed left knee…literally, I often feel like it is hanging on by a small thread.

Many of my blogs last semester and the semester before were based on my injury and all the battles that came along with it. Recently, however, I haven’t written much about my knee situation because I’m not quite sure I have fully processed it. I also keep thinking that everyone and their mother is probably sick of hearing about how messed up my knee is (trust me, so am I).

To make a very long story short, I have now had 4 surgeries on the same knee in less than 2 years. I’ve had to make the tough decision to discontinue playing volleyball, after already sitting out two seasons in a row. I’ve become as used to pain as I think I can get. I have numbness and nerve issues down my entire leg now. I’ve spent more time at physical therapy, exercising, and rehabbing all in the attempt to get back to the court, only to realize in doing so I was damaging my knee even more. I’m still rehabbing just to try to get back to my normal activities, but the aching and pain in my knee never, ever goes away.

I think the biggest reason I haven’t talked about it much in my blogs lately is because a large part of me feels ashamed and selfish for struggling with something that really is minor in the big scheme of things. It seems like I’ve wasted so many tears, so much energy, and so much of myself trying to overcome this…but I just can’t seem to get over it. It frustrates me even more that I can’t let it go.

Something I’ve always “known” is that my identity isn’t in volleyball. Playing sports as a Christian and in that environment, I heard over and over again that there is so much more to life, and so much more to who I am than volleyball. But I never, ever had to face that until I could no longer play.

Now, I have to face that every day, sitting through every single practice. All I think about is how that used to be me on the court, I used to be someone with a purpose. I used to be good at something. I felt valued as an athlete, teammate, and player on the court. But, slowly that feeling of worth and value has gone away the more and more I’ve been sitting out. My spot on the sidelines doesn’t ever feel very important when I know there isn’t even the slightest chance of getting to step onto the court. It might seem silly or exaggerated, but it is difficult to explain just how much of myself was found in the sport of volleyball.

I didn’t realize how much I defined myself by what I could do, until I could no longer do those things.

Last week, I blogged about how I need to stop keeping track of all the things I do. It makes sense to me now why I’m always so caught up in counting what I do… It’s because I have a tendency to judge, view, and measure my own worth solely by what I can do.

         In complete vulnerability, I will say that it is devastatingly difficult to remember my worth when I’ve measured it by what I could do for so long. Almost my entire life, I’ve felt worthy, important, and like I have a purpose because of volleyball and other sports I’ve played. Now, I’m not a volleyball player anymore. I’m not an athlete anymore. I can’t even climb up the stairs without having to hold the railing to pull myself up sometimes because of pain and weakness in my knee—that doesn’t make me feel very worthy. I feel weak. I feel humiliated often because so many other people have been able to overcome the same injuries and other injuries, but I can’t.

Yet in all that, and all of my other flaws, God sees someone worthy of loving.

         I’ve read The Shack by William P. Young a few times, and yesterday I went to see the movie. I know there are many different articles and opinions on the theology in it, but that is a discussion for another time… I simply want to point out a quote from “Papa” or God in the story that brought me to tears in the theater as I watched the movie. The simple quote was repeated a few times:

 "I'm especially fond of you."

         I know that isn’t a direct quote from Scripture, but it’s based in Scripture. How many references are there in the Bible to how much God loves and adores His children? It’s difficult for me to grasp that love and fondness, because I don’t understand how God could love me. I haven’t done anything to deserve that love. How could the God of the universe be especially fond of me when I can barely even walk up and down one flight of stairs?

         Yet, He does. He did when I could play volleyball, He did during all my failed attempts to get back into playing volleyball, He does now as I sit on the sidelines, and He will forever. It doesn’t matter what I do or what I can’t do, I am loved, and I am worthy to be loved.

         I share all this for a few reasons. One of them is simply because it’s a way to express and see for myself what God is teaching me. Another one is because reaching out to others helps me find purpose in my circumstances. Lastly, I'm sharing this because I know there are so many people in our world who don’t feel worthy.

Maybe as you read this, you’re realizing that you don’t feel worthy of God’s love. Maybe it is because of mistakes that you’ve made that seem unforgivable. It’s because you’ve been living a lifestyle that doesn’t seem very worthy. Maybe you feel like you haven’t done enough to “deserve” God’s love. Maybe someone else has harmed, hurt, or abused you in a way that has made you feel unworthy. Or you feel like you’ve been living your life without a purpose, and therefore aren’t worthy. Maybe it’s because you’ve gone through a season of loss, pain, or immense tragedy…you might think that you must not be worthy of love because somehow God allowed those things to happen to you. Or maybe you’ve been trying so hard to overcome something you’ve been battling with, but you just can’t and that makes you feel unworthy.

There are so many different reasons and circumstances that might cause you to feel unworthy. But those reasons and circumstances don’t stand a chance against the love of God. Our worth isn’t defined by worldly circumstances.

Rather, God has crowned us with glory and honor and given us a purpose (Psalm 8). He has numbered the hairs on our heads and deemed us valuable (Luke 12). He has created us in His own image (Genesis 1). He has engraved us on the palms of His hands (Isaiah 49). He has seen our flawed condition, but made us worthy through the gift of grace (2 Corinthians 5:21). He sent Christ as a sacrifice for us and has given us the gift of eternal life (John 3:16), all because He loved us, loves us, and will always love us just as we are—despite any circumstances.

It has never been about what we do; it has always been about who our God is that makes us worthy just as we are.

I am worthy.

You are worthy.

We are worthy.

We are unconditionally loved.

"I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God." -Ephesians 3:16-19

The One Who Holds My Heart

I’m single. It’s Valentine’s Day. And yet here I am- doing just fine.

But let’s be real, obviously I don't always feel just fine. It can be rather difficult living in a place and being part of a small town/Christian culture where it often feels like there’s something wrong with you if you aren’t married by 23.

I seriously could write a novel about some of the things that “Christian” people or others have told me about my singleness. I can recall so many times when something said has made me feel like less of a person for being alone. I could also probably write another novel about the amount of times I’ve put myself out there and been hurt and rejected. When both of these things go together hand in hand, it makes it rather difficult not to feel like there's something wrong with me. Let me tell ya, there have been so many tears shed over painful words and guys leaving me in the dust that causes me to question my worth. 

This year, after dating failure on failure, God has spoken a beautiful truth into my life. "You can trust me. I won't turn and run. No human will ever be able to hold your heart and love you the way that I love you." I write those words, and it seems so simple, or almost like "yeah, duh Brooklyn." Yet to honestly believe this truth is a choice I have to make everyday. However, those moments when I actually trust and live like I'm loved, are the most freeing moments. Suddenly, I can be confident. I can be bold. I can take leaps of faith because at the end of it all, I know who has my heart. 

I know I am so so loved, and even though I’m a mess most of the time, somehow Jesus still loves me just as I am. That, right there, will be the greatest love I’ll ever know. Just because some people can’t see my worth as is, it doesn’t mean it’s not there. I know my worth. I know I’m quite the odd little catch, and even if I die alone (which I often joke about), I get to walk in the most beautiful and unconditional love everyday. 

So, after the last couple years and all the dating failures I’ve faced and comments I’ve received, I’m sitting here, and I promise you I am doing just fine. Sure, it's taken a lot of prayer, reflection, and growth to get here, but I'm totally alright being alone. I wouldn't know Jesus the way I do, or have the confidence I do now if I hadn't had these years of singleness and searching. Of course I still hope and pray that one day some man will love the mess that I am, but until then here I am- still worthy, still loved, and still doing just fine.

I feel incredibly vulnerable in throwing this out here for anyone to see... so why am I actually putting this out there for y'all to see? Here are three reasons:

1- One of my resolutions this year was to be more bold and to use my voice to speak truth. This is one of the best ways I know how to do that as I've always been better with writing my words than speaking them. 

2- I write to process, to remember, and to hold myself accountable. And boy do I have a lot of processing, remembering, and self-reflecting and growth that needs to be done!

3- I’ve seen a lot of kids, teens, and other young adults this past year, who feel like they aren’t enough or like they aren’t worthy of love. It absolutely crushes me because I’ve been there, and I’ve felt that, but I’ve learned those lies aren’t true. My prayer is that maybe these words will find you, and you'll realize you're not alone in feeling alone. 

No matter what your relationship status is, know that you’re loved, and your status never defines your worth.

March 13th...

Today I walked into my classroom and saw March 13th written on the whiteboard. I saw our classroom calendar with field trip dates, birthdays, and special activities that never happened. I saw pictures and work with stickers on them waiting to be sent home. I saw empty tables and seats. I saw blank student whiteboards. My messy desk, checked out library books, stacked chairs, empty hooks.

Then I started thinking of all the things I didn’t see: my students, pencil shavings on the floor, smiles, hugs, and high fives. I didn't see backpacks on hooks, eager hands raised in the air, kids working together, excitement, laughter, joy, and a messy classroom after end of the year parties. Growing friendships. Lightbulb moments. Our community.

It’s true, we can still have some community through online classroom activities and hangouts. However, there are so many moments in a classroom (big and small), that just can’t be recreated online. It’s those moments that I miss for my students. Those same moments are the reason why I teach, and without them it is incredibly easy to get burnt out. I’m tired. My eyes and head hurt all the time from the computer screen. My back and bum hurt all the time from sitting all day. I’m overwhelmed trying to stay on top of it all. But most of all, my heart often aches because our class is missing so many moments.

We left school on March 13th, totally unaware our class would never be together this year in that room again. We didn’t get to prepare or say goodbye. School as we knew it ceased to exist, and a new learning journey began.

It is truly amazing how quickly they adapted, and just kept going. They are the reason I keep going.

    I have never been more impressed by a group of 8, 9, and 10 year olds... Their work ethic. Their perseverance in pushing through week after week. Their willingness to try and try again. How quickly they learned a totally new way to learn. Their commitment to class hangout time. Their effort in keeping our community alive. Their silly comments with 30+ exclamation points at the end. Their excitement when they get on Google Hangout- and all the things from pets, to Pokémon calls, to Tik Tok dances that they are dying to share. 

Today, I also watched video after video of my students responding to their classmates’ mini video presentations. I cried, laughed, smiled, and cried some more. They were so kind. “Wow, you did such a great job!” “I really loved your project!” “I learned so much.” “That teepee is life-sized?? That’s crazy!!!”  It may seem small, but those smiling faces and kind words to each other were just what I needed.

Years from now when this is all over, I hope that’s what I remember. I hope that’s what these kids remember.

I hope they grow up and laugh at themselves for their excessive use of question marks and exclamation points. I hope they look back and are proud of themselves for adapting to learn online in record time. I hope they remember the teacher parades, the classroom hangouts, and silly videos. I hope they remember that in the midst of so much craziness in the world, our classroom community was a safe place- where they were free to learn, to laugh, and to share.

As we end the school year in a way we’ve never ended before, I still miss all my kiddos and those classroom moments. But, I know this class and their resilience, joyful spirits, and kind hearts will forever hold a special place in my heart. They are the reason why I teach.

There have been a lot of shoutouts for a lot of different people lately- which are SO, SO deserved. But I’m not sure I’ve seen a thank you shoutout for the students yet. Their worlds were pretty much turned upside down in a day with so much change for their young minds to process. So to my students, and all students- thank you for making this work the best you can. Thank you for being flexible and understanding. Thank you for working hard. Thank you for pushing through. You are the reason why I teach.

Whatever You Do

Hello fellow blog followers! I’m back! I stepped away for a while for a few different reasons that I will summarize briefly:

1-I needed a break to feed myself spiritually.

2- I didn’t want blogging and sharing my heart and what God’s been teaching me to become a chore.

3- I was finishing up college classes, coaching, and first-year teaching all at once—so things got crazy.

Now, I feel like I’ve learned so much this last year that I quite honestly am not sure I will be able to put it into words.

I’ve had a few followers asking when I would post again, so tonight I will just share a little about how God brought me back to Him this year.

College was not easy for me. For those that have followed my blog over the last few years, you’ve probably caught onto that. I went through a lot of pain, a lot of doubt, some depression, and a lot of questions. Physical pain that led to emotional and mental pain. Doubt in myself, in others, and even in God’s plan. And questions about who I was, and what God was up to in my life.

It wasn’t that I was doubting that God had a plan, but I was doubting that it would work out for good... at least for MY good. I couldn’t understand why God’s plan wasn’t MY plan.

But as I reflect on this past year, it could not be any clearer to me that all my years of college and struggles were guiding me right here. I wholeheartedly believe that if I wouldn’t have gone through some of the things I did, I would have missed out on this entire year of teaching, coaching, and learning. I would have missed out on an opportunity to serve, to love, to give hope to, and to teach a group of amazing kiddos, who actually did the same exact things for me. I would have missed out on working with the most amazing and supportive people who pushed me, let me vent, and helped me grow. I would have missed out on a year of learning that the dream I had when I was a little girl was not just a dream, it was a God-given passion and calling.

I can honestly remember all I ever wanted to be “when I grow up” was a teacher. Not a princess, not a doctor, not a ballerina. I wanted to be a teacher (and a coach or athlete actually). I can’t really explain why, other than it was a little nudge God had given me. I know that now, but I didn’t know it then.

Now, it’s halfway through my second year of teaching and I’ve had a chance to get somewhat settled in. I’ve found some time to clear my head, clear my heart, and reflect on the last year.

My first year of teaching was crazy and challenging, but it was my lightbulb moment. Things clicked. My pain made sense. My struggle made sense. My questions, doubts, and heartbreaks made sense. My passion made sense.

Although my future and so many things still seem unclear at times, what a blessing it has been to finally see and experience a glimpse of God’s calling.

For so long, I was trying to find a way for my plan to fit into God’s plan. I tried so desperately to figure out exactly what God wanted me to do with my life and where He wanted me to be. I’ve come to learn that I’m never really going to know exactly where God wants me. However, I do know exactly who He has called me to be.

He’s called me to love, to serve, and bring glory to Him in every single moment—no matter how small that moment may be. That is a calling I can do anywhere and in any moment.

“Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.”

- Colossians 3:23

Wherever you find yourself in life right now, whether it’s drowning in pain and feeling at rock bottom, walking in the valley, or cheering at the top of the mountain, I pray you see God’s Hand in all of it. You may not be where you want to be, but God can use you in any place and in any moment. Don’t get so hung up on a roller coaster of details that you miss the small moments.

In the mysteries, miracles, and messes, God is present and moving.

As we come to the end of another year, take the time today to reflect and look for even the simplest of ways God has moved in your life. It may not be immediately visible to you, but I promise it’s there. God is constantly at work, and you can come alongside Him wherever you are.