People always tell me how much I must enjoy summertime--after all, teachers have the whole three months off from work (which, if you know/are a teacher, you know how big of a lie that is!).
I've been on summer break for a week now and it's been one of the toughest transitions yet. You'd think that it would be easy, getting two-ish months off from work to do nothing, but it's quite the opposite from that.
One of the things I've been trying to do is teach myself how to rest, which doesn't come easy for this busy-addicted girl. I'm used to work, work, work. Day in and day out, surviving on five hours of sleep and more than 10+ hour days, not including the grading at night and the weekend work, too.
So when I was done with trainings and clean-up, I found myself lost, without an identity. I was a sourpuss, really. I suddenly didn't have a routine or schedule to follow. I didn't have obligations or things to worry about. I didn't feel like I had a purpose.
But now, a week later, I've been humbled by that pride and sour attitude. I've remembered that my identity does not lie in my job/career, but rather my Redeemer. The One who puts me in my place, who guards my heart, and who has helped me find rest again.
So June was an interesting one. One full of goodbyes to my now kindergarteners and exhaustion. Hellos to new routines, afternoon naps, and slow days.
And a chance to start each morning, each day, each season, over again--all thanks to grace.
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