covid fatigued teachers

Teaching Through the Pandemic 2

By the second year of pandemic teaching, exhaustion had settled in like a fog. Lessons felt heavier, students more distant, and the energy I once carried into the classroom drained away. I kept moving—grading, planning, adjusting—but often wondered if I had the strength to finish the year. What carried me wasn’t technology or training, but people: colleagues, family, and the quiet resilience we found together. Survival gave way to something deeper. We learned that even in uncertainty, strength grows step by step, and sometimes just finishing the journey is itself a victory.

class by webcam

Teaching Through the Pandemic 1

When schools closed and classrooms went online, I thought technology would carry us through. Laptops, webcams, and digital platforms promised connection, maybe even innovation. Instead, I stared at blank screens and muted microphones, unsure if anyone was really on the other side. Teaching became a strange mix of isolation and improvisation—part lesson plan, part troubleshooting call. I learned quickly that technology can support learning, but it cannot replace presence. The real work of teaching has never been about the tools in our hands, but the people on the other end.

Intense close-up of a wild gray wolf showcasing its piercing eyes and natural fur texture.

Faith, Fear & 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.

Standing Strong in the Chaos

Four years after the chaos of COVID-19, life is still shifting underneath us—economy, unrest, people at each other’s throats. Some say faith means no fear; I wonder if that’s reckless. Scripture doesn’t say faith equals bravado. It balances trust and wisdom—like avoiding the oncoming traffic even when you’re brave enough to cross the road. Sometimes faith is pausing, not running. It’s not a failure of belief. Maybe it’s a decision to walk wisely—and continue being a source of light anyway.