A school year really does feel like a rollercoaster. You strap in, ready or not, and the chain pulls you up that first hill—names to learn, lessons to plan, routines to set. Then come the drops and turns: surprise assemblies, lessons gone sideways, and the kid who asks to go to the bathroom right after the bell. There are slow climbs too, like grading piles that never shrink. But every ride has its high points—student breakthroughs, laughter, small wins. And just when the ride stops, you find yourself back in line, ready to go again.
Faith, Fear and Feeding the Wrong Wolf
Anxiety whispers today’s headlines louder than peace. Every new statistic makes your heart race—but what if those fears are fuel for the wrong wolf inside you? God tells us to choose differently: to feed truth, not worry. But that’s easier said than done. Watching the news, scrolling your phone, reading headlines—it’s like running your heart on a dying battery. This piece isn’t about denying fear—it’s about noticing when you’re feeding the wrong side, then plugging into the words that promise peace even when everything around you screams the opposite.
Health Insurance: A Bitter Pill
Picking a health plan is like ordering lunch at a restaurant with a terrible menu and sky‑high prices. You know each option is flawed: skimpy or wallet‑denting or both. This time, I stopped stalling and renewed the same bad plan—at least it’s familiar. But prescription coverage? A nightmare. One of many billing disasters from 2012 still haunts me today, and the endless phone transfers feel like a Kafka novel. It’s not a rant about healthcare—more like a frustrated sigh from someone who’s done this, again and again.
What Faith Looks Like in a Pandemic
School’s starting soon, and our “detailed” return plans are held together by Jell‑O. Anxiety among teachers is high, even more so with the virus still looming. Some say faith means no fear—others say wisdom may ask for caution. Is fleeing fear or failure of faith? Scripture doesn’t say faith always looks brave. Sometimes it looks smart, humble, or even quiet. And maybe that’s okay. This piece isn’t telling believers how to act. It’s offering a thought: faith doesn’t have one face—and maybe that’s a relief.
Carry On Like Normal
I taught in ten different classrooms before real stability—floated through schools like a substitute in my own career. Then came asbestos, portables, fire‑alarms that never shut off—and the refrain: “carry on like normal.” If harnessing chaos was a policy, we aced it. Now, “normal” feels almost fictional. And after 9/11 and hurricanes, COVID has rewritten even that. Maybe what needs to be normal is our care—not business, not calm, but our commitment to one another, even when the world tells us to act otherwise.
Big Assumptions, Big Risks
The decision to reopen schools came with a sense of urgency, as if the only way forward was to return to “normal.” But it was normal with masks, daily health checks, and a lot of uncertainty. Parents and teachers were left to balance the promises of stability with the real risks of exposure. The trade-off…
The Challenge of Not Being Foolish
When it comes to my health, I’ve made more than my share of foolish choices. For years I shrugged them off—until my doctor laid the truth out in numbers I couldn’t laugh away. Sugar isn’t only hiding in sodas or candy; sometimes it’s right there in the “healthy” things I thought I was choosing. That reality check stung, but it also gave me space to be honest, both with her and with myself. Foolishness doesn’t vanish overnight. But admitting it is the beginning—and choosing a better path, even slowly, is how it finally starts to fade.
20 Years of Self Delusion
Twenty years ago, diabetes walked into my life—and it was entirely my fault. For years I ignored the signs: constant thirst, fatigue, blurred vision, and the mounting risks that come with high blood sugar. I treated the warning signals like Homer treats his check engine light—ignore until it breaks. Only recently have I begun to accept that the right road isn’t glamorous or quick, but paved with small, rational choices made again and again. Maybe I should’ve started sooner. But starting late is still better than not starting at all.
A Little Bit of the Griswolds in Us All
Vacations—especially family ones—are less perfect adventure and more chaotic comedy. I chase the “happy upcoming thing”—autumn, holidays, spring break—but the escape often turns into a mess. Cruises rain disappointments: rough seas, thin tissues, missing salt shakers. Yet those ruined moments—a laugh with waiters, pepper shakers that aren’t even real—become the ones you remember. Just like the Griswolds, joy often hides in the ordinary, messy, grumpy parts. And maybe it’s enough.
Finding Peace in Uncertainty: A Story of Faith & Gratitude
One ordinary Wednesday became a lesson in perspective. My diabetes meds, once a reliable $25 fill, suddenly crept to $314 at the pharmacy counter. That kind of sticker shock makes you lean on more than logic. So I sat in my car, close to panic, replaying the faces of those I love and the grace I’ve known. And then I remembered the verse: don’t be anxious, but pray with thanksgiving—and peace will guard your heart. It wasn’t a neat cure, but it shifted my view. Not always enough, but enough to keep me going.