After two months of very limited internet usage. Read here...no internet usage except those two brief times. I am catching up on the three blogs religiously read by me. One is making me cry with a series on TCKs. I feel like I am looking at old and new scars afresh and opening some doors that I thought were closed. It is healthy and good. It also happens to be a guest series so I am meeting more authors, writers and bloggers on the world wide web and frankly my blood runs cold with the great vast talent.
What am I doing writing?
What am I doing posting?
Honestly I am enjoying writing. I am enjoying sitting down and thinking about my day and being thankful for the little people who take up so much time and the big issues that take up so much of my heart. I also feel sad. I feel as though I have not completely engaged where I am now.
My heart is drawn still to race issues in the USA and to educational disparities. I am still drawn to educational debates, research and fresh classroom ideas. And I don't have a class. I don't even have a chalkboard. I no longer have a bunch of TCKs over every Sunday for dinner or a group of girls choreographing a stomp in the back of my classroom. I need to move on. I need to live here but I also need to fit who I was into who I am now. I want to live well but I also need a new focus that is not just my kids, not just today, not just this moment. I am a moment Madam who rather thrives on chaos and I need a dream (no longer can it be that Doctorate of Education). A dream that I can work towards. Language, Urdu (reading and writing in Hindi) is coming along famously and now I am ready with two little ones in tow to embark upon homeschooling (terrified of this endeavor and wish there was another educational option for my three year old and one year old) but in this midst of those huge adventures I am praying for a dream. A focus. A growing passion.
I feel like I am coming back. The old me who was unashamed of passion, of craziness, of being opinionated, of hearing God's voice clearly, of having a prayer language, of my horrible habit of nose picking. So I am praying and seeking and working towards fasting from hypocrisy and finding a small vision that fits obediently into God's huge Dream that will Be.
What am I doing writing?
What am I doing posting?
Honestly I am enjoying writing. I am enjoying sitting down and thinking about my day and being thankful for the little people who take up so much time and the big issues that take up so much of my heart. I also feel sad. I feel as though I have not completely engaged where I am now.
My heart is drawn still to race issues in the USA and to educational disparities. I am still drawn to educational debates, research and fresh classroom ideas. And I don't have a class. I don't even have a chalkboard. I no longer have a bunch of TCKs over every Sunday for dinner or a group of girls choreographing a stomp in the back of my classroom. I need to move on. I need to live here but I also need to fit who I was into who I am now. I want to live well but I also need a new focus that is not just my kids, not just today, not just this moment. I am a moment Madam who rather thrives on chaos and I need a dream (no longer can it be that Doctorate of Education). A dream that I can work towards. Language, Urdu (reading and writing in Hindi) is coming along famously and now I am ready with two little ones in tow to embark upon homeschooling (terrified of this endeavor and wish there was another educational option for my three year old and one year old) but in this midst of those huge adventures I am praying for a dream. A focus. A growing passion.
I feel like I am coming back. The old me who was unashamed of passion, of craziness, of being opinionated, of hearing God's voice clearly, of having a prayer language, of my horrible habit of nose picking. So I am praying and seeking and working towards fasting from hypocrisy and finding a small vision that fits obediently into God's huge Dream that will Be.
This sounds exciting...let's have a date..I want to hear more. xoxo leaf
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