Around the Atlanta area, school is starting. I am not going to lie, it feels a little odd that I am not joining them, as if I am breaking the rules or something. I feel a weird twinge when I see pictures of classrooms on Facebook or a cute lesson plan idea on Pinterest. It is not sadness, but it definitely feels strange.
I am thinking about my nieces and
nephew
who are starting school. I seriously lie awake praying that they will
make friends and love their teacher. I cannot imagine what a basket case
I will be when my boys go to school.
"Helping" with the laundry
And while I am thinking about and praying for all teachers, there is a
special type that is on my heart and mind: the momma teacher. Because
last year, I was there. Maybe it was hormones (remember, I had just
found out I was pregnant again), but it was one of the toughest things I
had to do. I had to leave my son all day with someone else, while I
taught other children. My little boy, who I had spent the summer with at
play dates, swim lessons, walking to the park, and blowing bubbles. I
think I cried for the first month. (Again, probably hormones.)
Teacher Mommas are my heroes. You sacrifice your gifts to your profession and family. You are serving and teaching our future. My future...
“We have different gifts, according to the grace
given to each of us. If your gift is prophesying, then prophesy in
accordance with your faith; if it is serving, then serve; if it is
teaching, then teach;”
Romans 12:6-7
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