I'm feeling knee deep in various projects. I'm working on individualized SOL folders for my  students, plus the daily operations of our program. I'm tutoring a second grader twice a week, trying to make homework interesting. I'm seeking out opportunities to write. I'm leading preschool play dates. I'm delving head first into books, something I haven't done for quite some time. I'm preparing for another [short] trip out of the country. I'm meeting friends for dinner, teaching Sunday school, chatting with Jesus over coffee and coming to some realizations about myself and what I want.
My life is full.
I spend a good portion of my evenings contemplating worksheet ideas for my students, researching projects, drinking tea, reading and learning from others. My students are not too happy about our new academic focus and really, who can blame them? I'm still fumbling along blindly - I have no formal education or experience as an educator. I get that they've sat in school all day and sometimes the last place they want to be is with me in after school, particularly the middle school students. This project is in its infancy and worksheets are the go-to. Hormones are raging and attitudes are sharp, and some days I feel like I spend more time defending than anything else. There are days I feel incredibly overwhelmed and inadequate. Is this really how it's supposed to go?
Despite the busy, the insufficient, the push back, I see the gift. I see the small and the lovely, the special and cherished. It comes wrapped in laughter as I tutor, causing us to lose all focus. It comes in the face of a preschooler as he sticks is hand in paint and proudly smooshes it onto his paper. It comes in strangers helping me load boxes of food to feed my students. It comes in motivation and in falling exhausted into bed each evening. It comes in the quiet and in the noise.
In light of that idea, I'm contemplating a shift on the blog. Perhaps a new web address and title will roll out soon, providing a place for intentional reflection on the gifts I receive each day.
And boy, are those gifts abundant!