Kimberly, your words are so transformational because you write with such humility and I can feel your love for teaching. The heart you had and still have for your students is as real as ever. Navigating grief is one of the most difficult journeys that a person takes and grief can be an unwelcome friend most of the time. One thing you have taught me is to see the grief as a gift that brings us closer to Christ. I believe you are still teaching in a new way. The community you have built with The Way Back To Ourselves is a classroom and we are all teaching and learning together. It is not the same and yet at the same time similar. One of my favorite characters in the Harry Potter books is Fawkes, the Phoenix. He may burn up into flames but moments later, new life emerges from the ashes. His tears are also a healing agent. You are both healing and bringing healing to so many of us. Like you so brilliantly say in this piece, "to have beauty, you must have ashes, to have ashes, you must have a fire." I am here to see how the fire of your life make this world a better place!
This truly touches my heart. You left me speechless. You have been so extremely kind and encouraging. More than I deserve. You make TWBTO special. Thank you for being here and seeing me. God bless you!
I am sorry for all you went through, and are going through, Kimberly. It's tough to lament and hope at the same time, but I see you valiantly doing both in this season. I also lost almost everything in a metaphorical fire. I love your term "nebulous traumas," which are *still* traumatic, sometimes even more so as people are not as willing to comfort you when your trauma is not "big enough." But I am one of those people who has been on the healing journey long enough to discover the beauty in those ashes and to be grateful for what God revealed after the conflagration died down.
This is so beautifully said, Carmon. Thank you for your kindness, reading, and showing up in this space. I am glad you are walking out your healing journey. And, YAY, for Tim Keller. His work truly saved me. Miss him a great deal. God bless you. 🙏🏼
Kimberly, thank you for your words. I was not in the same situation as you when I left teaching last year (I had a choice, and I made the difficult one to leave), and yet it was still incredibly painful and sad and something that I've had to grieve. I can feel your loss and how much it hurts, and I care. ❤️
Thank you for being here and leading me to Substack! Your encouragement has been a blessing! And thank you for SEEING me in this. Even though our stories aren't the same, they are similar. It's a special kind of pain not being IN the classroom, even when we know God is calling us elsewhere. I am so excited for the journey we are on now-- post-classroom--even in the hard.
ahhh, Kimberly. This hurt to read but was also a blessing. I'm ESPECIALLY sorry that your job got ripped away from you without your consent. It wasn't a career I loved, which I'm grateful for, but when I was hospitalized for months after an accident, I came out of rehab and was immediately laid out of by my company. I pray that one day God re-opens the door to teaching, maybe in an unexpected way for you, and that if not He keeps opening more and more new doors and windows of delight
Hi, Claire. Thank you so much for the gift of your time and words. It seems our stories intersect some. I’m so sorry you’ve suffered as you have, but thank God—literally—we have him to hold us.
Kimberly, your words are so transformational because you write with such humility and I can feel your love for teaching. The heart you had and still have for your students is as real as ever. Navigating grief is one of the most difficult journeys that a person takes and grief can be an unwelcome friend most of the time. One thing you have taught me is to see the grief as a gift that brings us closer to Christ. I believe you are still teaching in a new way. The community you have built with The Way Back To Ourselves is a classroom and we are all teaching and learning together. It is not the same and yet at the same time similar. One of my favorite characters in the Harry Potter books is Fawkes, the Phoenix. He may burn up into flames but moments later, new life emerges from the ashes. His tears are also a healing agent. You are both healing and bringing healing to so many of us. Like you so brilliantly say in this piece, "to have beauty, you must have ashes, to have ashes, you must have a fire." I am here to see how the fire of your life make this world a better place!
Matthew,
This truly touches my heart. You left me speechless. You have been so extremely kind and encouraging. More than I deserve. You make TWBTO special. Thank you for being here and seeing me. God bless you!
Kimberly
I am sorry for all you went through, and are going through, Kimberly. It's tough to lament and hope at the same time, but I see you valiantly doing both in this season. I also lost almost everything in a metaphorical fire. I love your term "nebulous traumas," which are *still* traumatic, sometimes even more so as people are not as willing to comfort you when your trauma is not "big enough." But I am one of those people who has been on the healing journey long enough to discover the beauty in those ashes and to be grateful for what God revealed after the conflagration died down.
I miss Tim Keller!
This is so beautifully said, Carmon. Thank you for your kindness, reading, and showing up in this space. I am glad you are walking out your healing journey. And, YAY, for Tim Keller. His work truly saved me. Miss him a great deal. God bless you. 🙏🏼
Kimberly, thank you for your words. I was not in the same situation as you when I left teaching last year (I had a choice, and I made the difficult one to leave), and yet it was still incredibly painful and sad and something that I've had to grieve. I can feel your loss and how much it hurts, and I care. ❤️
Thank you for being here and leading me to Substack! Your encouragement has been a blessing! And thank you for SEEING me in this. Even though our stories aren't the same, they are similar. It's a special kind of pain not being IN the classroom, even when we know God is calling us elsewhere. I am so excited for the journey we are on now-- post-classroom--even in the hard.
ahhh, Kimberly. This hurt to read but was also a blessing. I'm ESPECIALLY sorry that your job got ripped away from you without your consent. It wasn't a career I loved, which I'm grateful for, but when I was hospitalized for months after an accident, I came out of rehab and was immediately laid out of by my company. I pray that one day God re-opens the door to teaching, maybe in an unexpected way for you, and that if not He keeps opening more and more new doors and windows of delight
Hi, Claire. Thank you so much for the gift of your time and words. It seems our stories intersect some. I’m so sorry you’ve suffered as you have, but thank God—literally—we have him to hold us.
Blessings,
Kimberly
Thankful for your words!
Thank you so much, Becky. And thank you for the gift of your readership. 🙏🏼