As a child, my mom was my hero. Now, teaching sixth graders about heroism while navigating my own struggles, I've realized something: I don't have heroes anymore. I collect mentors instead. Heroes stand on pedestals, untouchable and perfect. Mentors sit beside you with their own scars visible, showing you how to navigate the flaws. The real hero's journey? Not an ascent to perfection but a descent from pedestals to walk alongside others.
Faith & Mental Health
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.
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.
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.
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
Teaching Students to Be Mental Health Advocates: From Darkness to Dawn
When my sixth-grader called herself a mental health advocate, I knew we were onto something important. Here's how educators can inspire students to champion mental wellness.
Finding Beauty in Broken Things: Sea Glass Lessons from Fort Monroe Beach
Searching for sea glass on Fort Monroe Beach became a metaphor for how God uses broken pieces to create something beautiful. Sometimes our greatest storms produce our most treasured gifts.
Learning to Apologize Well: The Art of Meaningful Forgiveness
I thought I knew how to say sorry, but my apologies weren't landing. Discovering the five apology languages transformed my relationships and taught me what real forgiveness looks like.
Writer's Growth 