Without Words

 The perfect Bible verse for those brokenhearted, speechless times.

I’ve never been the speechless type – one at a loss for words. 

Growing up, my mom told me that we only got so many words in life, and I would probably run out of them by the time I was a teenager because I talked so much. Of course, it took me years to realize she was joking, but she had a point – I was quite talkative.

But these days, I find myself without words.

My lovely roommate from my college days was just diagnosed with a serious case of cancer about a month ago. She’s my age – 36, and a wonderful mother of three young kids. 

When I received the news, I was devastated. I quickly thought of how vibrant, and full of life and love she is, always putting her family and friends first.

My heart broke, and I sat at my school desk, unable to think of how to respond in words. My salty sobs did the talking because there were simply no words to convey the heartbreak.

Fast forward to earlier this week when I got a call from one of my close friends about a medical problem she’s going through where there’s a malformation in the back of her brain. Neurologist and other specialists don’t quite know what this means, or what to make of the information yet. But they agree that it’s not typical.

This superwoman friend is a dedicated educator, mom of a brilliant youngster, and the sweetest friend anyone could ask for. As I read her text message, and then listened to the desperation in her voice when we talked, I found myself speechless once again. No words could I utter. My “I’m SO sorry” fell short, as I tried to choke back the tears that lumped in my throat.

Fast forward again to a few days ago around a school I happened to be visiting…

I heard some students’ comments about their home lives. 

One student doesn’t get hugged. Ever.

Another student wishes his/her parents would fill out the form for the Weekend Food Bag so that there’s dinner for the family to eat, but is discouraged that pride has gotten in the way.

Another student told me that he/she misses the family’s deceased loved one, and how lonely that feels.

Hearing all these comments, I found myself with no words. 

Once again, I sat, stunned at the news I was hearing, and knew that whatever I said would never be enough to make up for the pain that all these people around me are going through.

Searching for a word to describe how I feel about all this news has been difficult. It’s painful to watch those around you suffer physically and emotionally. I want to fix it all, and yet I’m helpless.

It makes me feel sad. 

Sad. Whenever my students use the word “sad” in their writing, I tell them that it’s not a “good adjective” and that they can think of a better one to enrich their writing. 

Yet, that is the perfect word to convey how I feel...
Unbelievably and overwhelmingly sad.

I’m sadden by the fact that cancer has no cure and takes lives of the young and old alike. 

I’m sadden that my beautiful roommate has to rearrange her life for chemo and worry about the outcome of her Littles as they watch their mamma suffer through the treatments.

I’m saddened by my educator friend whose brain is letting her down.
I’m saddened that she has to face the scary unknown at such a young age, and at a time where so many young kids, including her own child, depend on her.

I’m saddened that there are kids that I encounter almost daily who don't have their basic essentials met. They’re lonely, hungry, and starving for physical and emotional relief.

I’m part of such a broken world. And, when it hits close to home with the people I love and do life with, it gets difficult. I’m accepting that sometimes in life, there just aren’t words to express a broken heart.

But I think it’s ok to not always have the right words because there’s always prayer. Even in the most silent prayers, where my heart cannot express the emotion, I realize that God understands. He knows how speechless I am, and He still chooses to care.

Two Bible verses I cling to most in times where all I see is sadness and am not able to convey my feelings are:

Psalms 147:3 – “He heals the broken in heart, and binds up their wounds.”

2 Corinthians 12:9 – “And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me."


Sometimes words don't come. But His promises will.

Lost Identity

My work does a Secret Pal program where you can draw a colleague’s name, and secretly leave them inspirational notes, candy, and gifts throughout the year. At the end of the school year, there’s a reveal party where you get to find out your pal’s identity.

When I sat down to complete the “All About Me” form for this program, I noticed the questions were quite thorough.

Coffee…yes / no
Candles…yes / no
Books…yes / no

I was whizzing through the answers, until I came to the section that asked, “What do you do in your free time?”

I’m pretty sure you could hear crickets chirp as I sat, stumped, staring at the question. Frustrated, my head swarmed with different thoughts.

“I love to travel!” I thought. “But I barely leave the house these days because of Jude’s meltdowns.”

“I like to hike!”
But, I haven’t been hiking in over a year because it’s impossible to watch Jude on the rocky trails.

I felt lost. “I have no idea what I do in my free time!” I sighed.

So, I wrote, “What free time?!”

That was the moment that I realized that my identity was somewhat lost. I knew what I liked to do in my previous, before-I-had-kids life, but as an exhausted mom, I had no clue!

This really bothered me. I don’t want to lose interest in my passions and hobbies that make me who I am. Yet, as I sit here typing this, that is exactly what has happened.

Realizing this, I started having raw conversations with other moms about what they do in their free time. They answered the same way, “What free time?”

One mom admitted that she had no energy to focus on herself by the end of the week, let along each day. Another mom said that she used to love to read, but now chooses sleep over reading. Every mom that I encounter in my circle of friends seem to have lost her identity at some point along the way in life.

While this is unfortunate, it was also soothing for me to hear. As moms, we go, go, go. We’re always thinking about others, especially our family, and rarely focus any time, energy, and talents on ourselves. Perhaps it’s the way we’re wired?

Whatever the reason is, I don’t like not being able to answer that question. I should be able to list at least one or two things I enjoy in my free time that helps make me unique. I don’t want my identity to be lost in a lifestyle that doesn’t reflect my passions and interests. So how do I fix this?

I guess I’m about to head down a road of self-discovery... and just when I thought I knew everything about myself. While I’m self-aware, I’m also lost.

Anyone identify?

Thoughts on how to build my “free time” into a “my passions” time? 

September Setback

I was going along well, adapting to my new job working with at-risk Special Needs students, when suddenly I was put into a position that caused me to take on a different role. The new role brought three times the amount of work and stress with it, even though it’s the best option for all parties involved. So I went from soaring through August, to barely bobbing with my head above water in the endless sea of exhaustion and time management during September. How suddenly the tide had changed!

“Great,” I thought, "Now I’m a working mom with absolutely nothing to give her kids at the end of the long, frustrating days."

September messed up my family’s schedule… all the make-ahead dinners didn’t get made. Take-out food was ordered in bulk at an all-time high. And while we did manage to make the boys eat with us around the dinner table, we were too mentally beaten to even have an intelligent conversation with them.

Because I was working three times as hard with this new position, I brought work home. This affected the fact that I couldn’t be the “glue” that held our nightly routine together. Sandy was no longer given walks, even though she was in the middle of being trained as a therapy dog. Jason usually did those, and Jason was busy trying to deal with the boys, dinner, and dishes because I was simply too weary to help. I came home, changed to pajamas, and instantly plopped down on the bed on countless occasions.

During September, this negative transition my family went through upset me greatly. I couldn’t keep up with my colleague who doesn't have young kids at home, and could spend hours nightly providing my principal and team with the best researched resources. 

I couldn’t make most of my boys’ schools events such as “Muffins with Mom” and the Scholastic Bookfair. Heck, I couldn’t even show up to help train Sandy so that she could get her therapy dog certification on the date she was projected.

I found myself being somersaulted around, like a young girl on the scary, rickety, country fair rides, between the Bitter-O-Whirl and the Hurling Rocket. I was bitter. I was sick. And my life was hurling out of sync before my very eyes.

Finally, I somehow survived and made it to Fall Break. 

Fall Break…a teacher’s right of passage to remind her that she needs to stop and take time to realize that she’s more than a lesson-making, paper-grading, at-times-glorified-babysitter-to-little-loves-whose-parents-think-they-can-do-no-wrong, data-analyzing, under-paid worker who doesn’t have her life in check. 

Now, I love teaching and children, otherwise, I wouldn’t be in my tenth year of education. But, I will take anyone on who thinks that teachers don’t need more breaks.

I spent night one of Fall Break at a pumpkin farm with my family, and day one on a 'real' farm, with some of my favorite friends. During these events, I found my heart-rate dropped (at least according to my Fitbit) and that I could breathe. I even had time to sit down with my husband over coffee and go over our bills. (This was devastating when we realized how much we had paid for food for eating out several times a week.) But, the fact was, we now are getting back on track because we took the time and had the energy to focus on a plan.

A break… It’s just what the hypothetical doctor had ordered!

And as I think back through the month of September and how difficult it was, I don’t want to return to it. In a week, I go back to the grind, to the same job that caused me to be drained in the first place. But, I plan to take back a different perspective – one where I refuse to take as much work home. One where I acknowledge and accept that I cannot keep up with that perfect teammate who has no young kids at home, and one where I tell myself that whatever I do is enough.

I remember my student teaching years, when a wise teacher across the hall once told me, “Angela, teaching is all about balance. You will never be able to get it all done, but if you don’t take care of yourself, then you’ll get even less done.”

So to all you working moms out there – those who work both outside and inside the house - I challenge you to start taking care of yourself. I have reassured myself that October will not be the same setback for my family that September was.