Where it Ended.

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It's raining tonight.

If you were to know me in real life and not just blog land then you would know...a chilly September rain is up there with my all time favorite things. 

Call it the Never Ending Story syndrome if you must, but there is nothing I like more than curling up with a good book and hunkering down on these evenings.

The air smells like fall.

Our backyard is alive with chirping (toddler bullfrogs).

And I find my peace, my solace. 

"Come to the water, and you'll thirst no more."  It envelopes me.

I know this blog is all about beginning.  And I want to honor that.  But the truth of the matter is that tonight - as I sit and enjoy the rain and lightening storms, I'm aching for my kids and my classroom.

Because it's who I used to be.  It's the time of year that I loved the MOST.  Getting a classroom full of new minds that are trying to figure me out.  Getting a classroom full of parents who love that their child loves learning.

And after all my hard work and "theme-ing", to see my classroom come to life with a new energy and passion from both my students and myself.
Someday, maybe I'll post all my printables somewhere.  Most of the ideas weren't mine, but the passion behind creating them sure was.

My "kids" at our open house.  They worked so hard.  Never mind the fact that I worked furiously for 4 hours between after school and 6 o'clock to get it all ready. :)

Pure Joy.

So, I miss it.

I'm praying thoughtfully all the time that God will reveal his path to me.  That his plan for me included this past year of misery. 

What I find most amazing about his grace is all he was able to teach me about myself and passion and most of all LOVE. 

It MOVES me every day that I am never alone and my decisions in life are wrapped in his loving arms.

I hope my 2nd now third graders, and my kindergarteners now 1st graders know just how much I not only miss them, but LOVE them so very much.

For that matter, I pray my own 5th grade teacher knows how very much I love her.

I allow for this little bit of reminiscing to allow for the healing from last year to begin. 

With my heart and mind so clearly set on the road ahead, I cherish the memories of being called Miss.

Starting.

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In the beginning, when we're little, it feels like we're never going to get going. 

We've got miles to go before our life begins. 

Know what I'm talking about? 

I mean - little little, not little like High School little.

When I was 7 I told myself I wanted to go to college and get a bachelors degree, then a masters degree. and then in one year I would get a doctorate. 

You know, because doctorates are like super easy and by then I'd be super smart because I'd have been in school for what...like a baijllion years?

When I was 10 I wanted life to stand still.  I had the best teacher in the world and the worst home life ever. 

The home life - divorce and disease - didn't seem to bother me as much as the fact that 5th grade would at some point be over and life would continue to crawl forward.

Did any of us realize when we were younger that when we felt like we were inching along, and nothing would ever change...that the world was in fact hurtling towards us at a pace that at 28, feels a bit like walking into traffic at rush hour and being taken out by an 18 wheeler.

As an elementary school teacher, I cherish the moments that my students have that are similar to my own.

The days playing red rover, or discovering koosh balls or trolls, or laughing at something not that funny for hours because your 7 and it's just that funny.

When I was a little I couldn't wait for my life to get started.

I don't think I'm supposed to feel that same way at 28.

But.  I do.

I mean, I'm probably not the only one, nor do I feel as though I'm in a big majority.

I think I believed that at some point I would step over the precipice of college and enter into "my life".

The "my life" that I loved.

I'd love my job, I'd make lots of money, I'd travel and see the world, I'd fall in love, I'd have lots of children (when I was little I wanted 8 and a 15 seater van....thank GOD Jon and Kate plus 8 beat me to it and woke me to the fact that that would be an epic fail).

And sure, I've traveled, I've lived some pretty good adventures, but when I really reflect, I have so much  more living to do.

I have a life that, just as it did when I was 7, feels like it's out there waiting for me to catch up and live it.

Don't get me wrong - this isn't a "who is to blame?" post.

I know where that should be placed and I do squarely carry that on my shoulders.

This is a post about the beginning of a journey.

The journey to the realization that life is just beginning.

The same way I thought it should when I was 7.

Let the year of LIVING...

Begin.
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