Santa Billy handed me a red tumbler emblazoned with 'Believe' just as I'm waiting to hear from agents about my rebranded manuscript. But I've discovered something at sunrise: the partly cloudy days are the most beautiful ones. Not the extremes of brilliant sunshine or impenetrable fog, but the in-between spaces where faith has room to grow. Maybe that's why they call it faith – this willingness to wait for what we cannot guarantee, to find beauty in what isn't perfect.
Author: Laura Joy Ramos
Anchored at Sunrise: Why Some Routines Are Non-Negotiable
Eight weeks after submitting my manuscript, facing rejections and a complete rebrand of my book, I'm discovering that everyone wants flexibility - my principal, the publishing world, life itself. But I won't skip my sunrise ritual. Because flexibility without foundation isn't resilience; it's just falling.
When the Power Goes Out
My car wouldn't start at the pier, the school had no power, and I faced twenty-five sixth graders in a dark classroom with no lesson plan. But sometimes restoration comes in unexpected ways – through jumper cables from someone who loves us, through teaching children to find peace in uncertainty, through learning that even in the dark, we can still find our own light.
Free to Fall and Fail Again: Finding Your Song in the Chaos
Everything around me changes with the seasons—the sunrise comes later, the routines shift, the household dynamics evolve. But I show up every morning at the water's edge, and the God who orders all of this—the sunrises and the sea glass walks, the students in room 202, and the beautiful chaos of family life—remains constant.
The Mania September Demands: When Routine Becomes Your Lifeline
My brain woke me at 3am with a mental inventory of everything I needed before students arrived. This is September's paradox for educators with mood disorders: the start of school requires hypomania while you're trying to maintain stability. When my carefully constructed accommodations fell apart, I remembered where my real anchor lies.
When Sun and Moon Share the Sky: Faith in an Unequally Yoked Marriage
My husband believes in God but isn't a Christian like I am. A pastor warned us about being “unequally yoked”; I married Tony anyway. Yesterday, watching sunrise, I noticed the sun and moon sharing the sky. When Tony fell from the roof, I saw how different lights can coexist beautifully.
The Last Day of Summer: Preparing to Teach with Mental Illness in the Open
Today was the last day of summer, and it didn't sneak up on me. Despite a packed day ahead, I positioned myself at Fort Monroe to welcome the dawn of my last official day of summer vacation. As I prepare to return to teaching, I'm carrying a different kind of fear: Since I've come out publicly about my mental illness, will there be pushback? I readily own my ADHD because I can model accommodations for my students. But will I ever feel safe admitting I have bipolar disorder? Sometimes the very things we're most afraid to reveal become the bridges that help others feel less alone.
Always Someone to Care For: How Purpose Prevents Depression
I'm sitting at Fort Monroe Beach, having just captured a dolphin leaping from the Chesapeake Bay, when the most profound realization hit me. For the first time in almost two years, I'm alone—and I'm discovering that having Tony and Calista in my life is probably one of the biggest reasons I don't sink into depression anymore. It's not their emotional support, though that matters. It's simpler: I never stop doing things. There's always purpose driving my days forward. This revelation, witnessed by dolphins, led me to see how limitations become tools for freedom—in Jack's wheelchair, in my bipolar brain, and in the deep waters that aren't barriers but home.
The Ripple Effect of Coming Out: When Vulnerability Becomes a Lighthouse
Two raw, relatable statements arrived in my text messages this weekend that slowed me to a halt: 'I need to be reminded that my grief is valid' and 'I need to know that I can have a future beyond this season.' What I thought would make me a spectacle—being open about my bipolar disorder—was actually making me a resource. This week showed me the unexpected ripple effect of choosing vulnerability over hiding, and how our greatest fears can become our most powerful gifts.
Behind the Scenes: A Summer of Cutting, Crafting, and Chasing Dreams
The sun crested the York River this morning at 5:59 AM, and I was there to meet it, rosewood ukulele slung across my shoulder, journal tucked under my arm. Same 9 PM bedtime, same sunrise ritual—rain or shine, whether I'm alone with my thoughts or surrounded by the Fourth of July crowd that descended on … Continue reading Behind the Scenes: A Summer of Cutting, Crafting, and Chasing Dreams
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