Writing unto HIM

I got my membership this year.

Some people have been members for a long time, some of us just joined.

To be in this club, is not chosen.

Some of us joined unexpectedly and without warning, some knew the membership was soon to come.

It's the daughters who lost their father's club. It's the fatherless on Father's day association. The grieving daughters society.

I wasn't supposed to join.
I should have been denied access.
This membership is for a lifetime, but it will expire.

One day I will lose my access "privileges" to this horrid union when I gain my membership in Heaven.

No longer will I be the grieving daughter.
The fatherless on Father's day.

If you're in this club with me, welcome- but not really.

It's one of the worst places to be. Here. In this club.

But together we unite in the loss
of our Fathers and from one member of this club to another, I am praying for you daughter.

I pray tomorrow is somehow transformed from grief to the goodness you had with your dad.
From sorrow to the special man he was. From hurt to hope that you will see him again. From crying tears to cherishing the years he got to be your daddy.

I'm so sorry if you're in this club with me, If you know what this feels like. I can't tell you what the days ahead will be like, but that's why our membership dates aren't all the same.

The daughters who have been members longer have a beautiful opportunity to support us newbies. And one day we will become the long term members and do the same.

Tomorrow we will all tell
someone "Happy Father's Day", but all of us will not be happy.

In Christ, death loses its sting so as the burn lessens I pray the happiness returns for each of us.

We will get through it daughters, together 🩷

As a teacher, I guess it's my turn to shed some light on the recent tragedy that struck Georgia.

I can say all of the things everyone has already said.

I feel those same heart-wrenching feelings. 💔

I don't like to focus on the negative.

I refuse to spend my time in my classroom in a constant state of fear.

Going forward, I am going to love my students deeper.

I am going to make it a point to have conversations with my students about their favorite colors and the sports they play.

I am going to look for the kids who are alone on the playground and set out to discover why.

I am going to keep checking in on their well being and making sure their needs are met to the best of my abilities.

I am going to continue to show up everyday with a smile and let every single kid know that I am in their corner.

Could I have prevented this tragedy?
Could anyone?

I don't know.

But how many tragedies have teachers prevented that we don't know about?

How many times has an unloved child suddenly felt cared about?

We have so much power as teachers and rather than letting this dilute us, teachers, I encourage you to let it allow you to stand in the gaps for our kids.

We our difference makers.
We make differences!
Our energy and attitude can create shifts in the atmosphere.

This child had a teacher.
Teachers.

I pray that they did everything possible to make him feel loved and cared about while they had him.

We only get 180 days to make a difference. And I am going to push myself further to make a difference for these kids. I never want to be left questioning if I did enough for any student that crosses my path.

Teachers, Apalachee is going to be ok. How do I know this? Because they're teachers.

So many teachers will put a smile on their faces on Monday morning to make returning to school the best experience possible in the worst circumstances.

Because they're teachers. The kids ALWAYS come first.

I'm praying for Apalachee.

Teaching is becoming a brotherhood.

Aspinwall, Irimie, out of service.
Gone but not forgotten.
Your brothers and sisters will take it from here.