An overwhelmed feeling engulfs me. There is too much to do, too much to plan, and I feel I have neither the time nor the mental energy to do it. My empty lesson plan book leers at me, taunting me. “Ten and a half weeks left of school, teacher-lady,” it smirks. “What are you going to do with them?” There are novels to teach that I’ve never taught before, tests to write, research papers to plan for and teach, and then (the true horror) grade once they’re complete. How soon must I start which projects to make sure I have enough time, but not too much time in May when the kids and I are all itching for summer?
At home, the fridge has a dozen eggs, half a gallon of milk, a pitcher of juice, and a door full of condiments. Not much for dinner-makings, so we ordered Thai last night. We need to go to the grocery, clean out the gutters, vacuum the rugs (except the vacuum cleaner is broken)… and while I know that there are days to relax, I feel like I can’t remember when I last had one or foresee when I might have one again.
Then, I walk into my classroom (after fighting with a copy machine that keeps jamming), glance out my window, and see the rosy pink of sunrise just beneath the gray of clouds, and the silhouettes of the trees standing proudly in the cold.
Thank you, Jesus. It will all be okay.