I was like that.
Things can change quickly over a weekend; I don't mean to be cryptic, but let it rest at that, without any other details. When something tragic and scary happens to a student, and a teacher sits in class Monday morning with six instead of seven others, she realizes her inadequacy. I didn't even have a tissue box for the ones who cried. Words--even the empty words that I have had repeated to me over and over--didn't leave my mouth, as my own sadness blocked any possible success at communication.
God is gracious; he proves himself a source of strength for weeks like this one.
Teaching is more than a catalyst for book learning. It is an investment in lives of young people who are sometimes in desperate need of comfort and encouragement. These are things I can give but so very, very poorly. I have so much to learn.
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