2: Preface...

Since we met last March, new writing territories have emerged -- some invited, some invaded -- while familiar ones have grown deeper, more specific.  The darkness of some has made the space for blessing even brighter.  And, while it isn't my hope for this month's stories to lie heavy upon you, my reader; I'm keeping my writing honest.

Because I'm using it as a tool for healing.
Because I'm using it as a wedge to highlight places where 
the fullness of hope and love have shone bold and true.  

Since we met last March,

• My former job dissolved and a perfectly thrilling new opportunity emerged
• I've navigated the waters of a new position, a new educational community, a new district, a new schedule, and new materials
• I've traveled to places like Atlanta, Georgia; Columbus, Ohio; San Diego, California to learn from consummate reading and writing professionals
• I've struggled with five-year-old behaviors that have consumed my marriage and most of my sanity
• I've watched my smaller little's health thrive
• I lost my maternal grandmother and two months later... 
• I lost my great-aunt and two weeks later...
• I unexpectedly lost my paternal grandfather
• I've witnessed changes in my extended family because of loss...my parents' hearts break and then mend, break and then mend

It's like Lucy Calkins says, "I write to hold this life in my hands and declare it significant."  

I write to learn.

I write to know.

I write to heal.

I write to celebrate.

I write to remember.  

I write to share.

So, tomorrow, dear one, come back for a new story...a new moment to learn, know, celebrate, share.

Write on,

b