Catching Pokémon in Dark Parks at Midnight—Why This Teacher ‘Gets’ Her Students

I sat behind Rapunzel and Snow White at the football game, camera in one hand, Pokémon Go in the other. At midnight, I was creeping into empty playgrounds to battle gyms. I finally understood: teenagers and I share the same quest—we're all trying to level up without knowing the endgame.

Pokémon Go Taught This Teacher More Than Her Students: How to See Who’s Really There

I resisted until Charming showed me lures by the Alexandria waterfront. Suddenly I was talking to strangers, finding connections everywhere. Now facing 60 new sophomores, I realize: my classroom needs to be the best PokéStop ever—where kids catch exactly what they need to evolve.

Why I Don’t Want Summer to End (And What God Taught Me About Letting Go)

As a teacher, I know I have to give up my heart to 120 new students. Here's what my nieces and a street preacher taught me about trusting the faces you can't see yet.

When Love Isn’t About Timing: Four Days Without My Prince Charming

I broke up with Charming over our timing conflict—I'm ready for marriage, he's not. But driving away in a storm, God ministered to me through worship music. Is he worth the wait?

Twin Birthday Cakes and Tiny Carrots: What My Garden Taught Me About Raising Humans

My niece's eyes lit up when I pulled a carrot from the soil like magic. As I frosted two different cakes for two different girls, I realized: we know what we're planting in gardens, but children? They come without labels.

The Evening Glories Need Untangling—But First I Have to Learn to Stop Fixing Everything

In twilight's storm, I resist untangling vines that double over themselves. My need to fix things—phones, weddings, people—is almost palpable. I couldn't sit in church service; I had to be in the AV booth with control. Sometimes facing worry means not taking action. Sometimes you sit still with tangled vines and wait for inspiration.

My AWANA Leader’s Daughter Told Me to End the Volume—Well, I’m Renaming It

Deb saw me at five with her picture on my kindergarten poster. Now, decades later, she's reading my blog and suggests I close this volume. But when your vegetable garden finally starts yielding bounty, you don't stop tending it—you just change what you call it from "I Used to Be" to "I Am."