Did you ever read that poster that says: “Everybody makes me happy. Some when they come in, and some when they leave.” The end of every school year leaves me a little sad because every year there’s that one child that just wouldn’t let himself be reached. I wonder what his future will look like, and if he’ll grow up enough in high school that he will have a chance at a decent life. I wonder if there was a way to reach him that I didn’t think of. Then my brain starts racing and I look at all the piles of work that I didn’t make it to, and I plan how to be more efficient next year. Perfection is my enemy, but I’m okay with that.
I use a lot of writing to teach English, and I tell my students that when they write they get to play God. They create the world. They allow the characters to prosper or suffer. Only some of them tap into that power, but wouldn’t it be nice if we could write the book of our lives to suit our own desires? Then I remember that there’s a way that seems right to a man, but its end is death. I would be a lot happier in the short run, but I’m sure God’s plan for me is better. God’s plan for my friend with cancer is better. God’s plan for my friend who just lost her husband is better. God’s plan for my husband is better. God’s plan for those suffering is better.
But now, summer is within my grasp. I’m going to create some worlds and do it my way. I hope to entertain my readers and maybe make a little more sense out of this tumultuous existence. I’d better get writing.