I AM who I AM

My sweet little guy has now been gone almost two weeks. It hasn't gotten any easier, that I can say. His loss is constantly with me, and the enormity of it hits me like a wave at the most random times. I am always looking for him, talking to him, and trying to remember that he doesn't need me to feed him anymore.

I've had a hard time sitting in the living room, especially in the evening, because that's the place we used to mostly hang out together. I have turned one of my end tables into a little memorial for him right now. It's the end table closest to the place where his food was and the place he spent most of the last month of his life. I haven't been able to move -- let alone get rid of -- any of his personal items, and his food and water bowls are sitting on the towel exactly as they were the last time he used them. I just can't move anything right now.

The bowl on the left has Snicks's photo on it. It was created by my friend Cindy's husband, Eric, a very talented ceramic artist. The photo frame was sent to me by my good friend Sarah. The plate on the right was given to me as an end-of-the-year gift by a thoughtful student. The album in the back contains only photos of my sweet boy.

I have been overwhelmed with the outpouring of kindness and support that I've received from friends and family since his death. I received cards from my grandmother, my sisters, my parents and brothers, a sweet student named Emma, and Snicks's vet practice. My friend Sarah came to visit me at home, and other Sarah visited me at school. Several close friends sent texts and continue to check on me. Countless special people posted on Facebook. And Joe drove all the way here and back from Atlanta to spend a weekend with me so I wouldn't be alone. As I said in his memorial post, I just don't want anyone to forget about Snicks. He was so very special, and he's such a big part of my life, even though he is physically gone now. 

Right before Snicks died, I was mulling over a blog post on the constancy of God, and it seems even more pertinent now. I was thinking to myself about how people say the only thing that is certain is death and taxes, but I'm not even sure how true that is. I suppose you can count on the fact that you will die some day, but we certainly don't know when, and although we know we always have to pay taxes, those amounts change all the time.

It seems to me that the only thing that is really certain is God.

God never changes. No matter what is going on in your life, no matter what changes you are encountering (and I'm encountering a LOT lately), God is constant. God will not change based on what you've done, who you marry, and what kind of day He's had. God just is. As God said to Moses, "I AM who I AM" (Exodus 3:14). God also said, "I am the LORD, and I do not change" (Malachi 3:6).

I am not a scripture scholar, nor a theologian. I am just a person. Not a very smart one at that. I just know that I am a person who has a hard time with change -- even good change -- and who likes to know what will happen at any given time. The world doesn't offer us constancy, but God always does. He is who He is.

The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob; the God of Moses; the God of David; the God of Mary and Jesus is also the God of me. And of Baby Snickers. God doesn't just have Snicks now. Snicks always belonged to God. God just let me care for him for a time. God always loves me, and he always loves Snicks. He always loves you too. It's the only thing you can really count on. And that knowledge fills me with peace.

"The Lord gives and the Lord takes away; blessed be the name of the Lord" (Job 1:21).

Yesterday I was looking through some photos I had sent Joe, and I came across this precious video of Baby S under a blanket. Praise God for finding something like this. 

Snickers, the World's Greatest Rabbit

"Baby" Snickers ("Snicks") Lafferre died peacefully Wednesday, May 17 in the arms of his loving mother and the caring and wonderful staff of Animal Care Clinic. He was seven years, three months, and three days old at the time of his passing. Although several underlying medical conditions contributed to the death of Snickers, ultimately his body just wore out.

Snickers was born February 14, 2010 and was adopted by his mother on August 7, 2010, at almost six months of age. He was blessed by Father Jim Sobus at a special Mass for animals in October 2010. From his birth, Snicks was a very special rabbit. He never thumped. He never kicked or scratched anyone. He liked to be petted and cuddled. His mother always said he was a pacifist, and he was. Snickers's wonderful doctor, Dr. Ellis, once told his mother never to get another rabbit and expect it to be like Snickers, because Snickers was just a very strange rabbit.

Throughout his life, Snicks brought happiness to many people. He volunteered at many organizations for children, including Huntington Dance Theatre, the Huntington Museum of Art, a vacation bible school, and a local preschool. Snicks loved chocolate, bananas, apples, kale, broccoli, oats, chewing paper (especially gift bags), good manners, clean things, being organized, his mother, his Uncle Allie, naps, sleeping under the bed, being petted on the head, the Mountaineers, and Jane Austen. He very much disliked carrots, being brushed, taking medicine, his things being moved around, and leaving the house.

Baby Snickers was a good boy every day of his life. His mother used to tell him he was a very good rabbit, and then she realized he wasn't just a good rabbit. In fact, he was probably not a very good rabbit at all. What he was was just a good person. As Anna's friend Story once wrote, "She lives with a rabbit who is not really a rabbit, but a person who just happens to be trapped in a rabbit body. He understands her more than any other human, and even though he’s silent, he speaks a thousand truths." Story was right.

Every day that his mother ever lived alone, Snickers was there. No matter what time his mother got home, Snicks was faithfully there. He was the softest thing his mother ever touched, and that soft fur held his mother's tears when she was sad. He also helped his mother when she was scared, and he always made her feel like she was never alone. He had impeccable manners. He never hopped into the kitchen, even though his food was there. He would politely wait outside the kitchen door, until his mother was ready to give him his snack. He had been known to chew a cell phone charger, but only if his mother was stupid enough to leave it within his reach.

Although there are too many to list, some of Snicks's mother's favorite memories of him include:

• The first night he was ever with his mother, she got up 10 times to make sure he was still breathing. 
• Before Snicks's mommy realized how much he loved apples, she left a glass of cider on the floor. She came back to see Snicks's face squished in the glass, as he struggled to lick the juice.
• Anna's brother Thomas once went to her apartment to feed Snicks while she was out of town, and Thomas called Anna to tell her he couldn't find Snicks. He had checked everywhere. All of a sudden Thomas said, "There he is!" Snicks was just hanging out in the middle of a room Thomas had already checked. That's when they all found out that Snicks was a ninja. 
• Once, Anna accidentally left Snicks shut in a closet all day while she was at work, and when she got home and opened the door, Snicks just came hopping out, all casual. Anna checked and realized that Snickers hadn't used the bathroom all day because he knew he was only to go in his litterbox.
• Snicks liked to sleep under the bed, and you could tell him it was bedtime, and he'd go. In the morning, Anna would open the bedroom door, and Snicks would come tearing out like a bat out of hell. Anna realized once that she could trick him into thinking it was morning because one night, she got up a few minutes after getting into bed to get water, and the second the door opened, Snickers came tearing out. Anna had to say, "No, Baby Snickers, it's not morning. Go back to bed." And he went back.
• How Anna learned that Snicks could jump up on the couch was one evening, she was lying on the couch, and the next minute she had a bunny butt on her face. 
• Once during the Christmas season, Anna was wrapping gifts. A piece of ribbon got stuck to Snicks's bottom, and he didn't realize it. So Anna watched and laughed as he dragged the ribbon around the room.
• Snicks used to like to lie on heating vents, sucking up all the heat from the room. This would also cause him to turn into one giant ball of static, and he shocked his mommy often. 
• Once, Anna was moving some things around in Snicks's room, making things nicer for him (she thought). Snicks started running around and around, until Anna moved everything back. Then he calmed down. 
• If you were petting Snicks's head and stopped, he would nudge his head under your hand until you started again. 
• Once, his mother was eating some small chocolates and left the wrappers on the floor by the couch she was lying on. When she reached down to get them and throw them away, they were gone. She found Snickers licking them behind a chair. 
• Even though Anna didn't know that Snickers would never come home again, the day she took him to the vet for the last time, she gave him some oats and some chocolate right before they left the house. It makes her happy to know he got to eat his favorite treats in his final hour on Earth.  

Snickers's health began to decline back in July and August of 2016, but his mommy begged him to please not leave her alone. Anna and Snicks would go on to meet Joe, Anna's now-fiance, in September 2016, and Snicks got to know Joe. While on a trip in Georgia in April, Anna and Joe became engaged, and Anna returned home April 17 to tell Snicks the news. Exactly one month later, Snicks passed away. As always, that sweet boy kept his promise to his mother, and he didn't leave her alone. It is the belief of Anna and some of her friends and family members that Snickers waited to die -- and God waited to take him -- until he knew she wouldn't be alone. 

Even in death, Snicks was the best boy imaginable. He was gentle and well behaved, even at the doctor's office on the day that he passed away. In fact, he even chose to pass away on a day that was most convenient for his mother, as she was getting ready to leave town to chaperone a class trip and would be gone for two days. He waited until summer, since he knows how much his mother hates winter and how it makes her sad, and he waited until school was almost out of session, giving his mother time to grieve his loss privately. Anna knows she was not always the best mother to Snickers, but she sincerely hopes he knows how much he was loved.

Anna would like to ask that everyone remember Baby Snickers. She is scared people will forget him, and she really doesn't want that. Please ask Anna about Snickers from time to time. It will make her cry, but they will be happy tears that someone is taking the time to remember her little boy. If you would like to do something in Snicks's honor, Anna requests that you hug your pets extra tightly this evening. Additionally, you can donate to Animal Care Clinic in Snicks's memory. They do a lot of work for rescue groups in the area and can be reached at 304-525-7649. Anna would especially like to thank Dr. Ginger Ellis, Shayne, and Judi, who all cried with Anna as Snickers died, as well as the entire staff of Animal Care Clinic, who, throughout his life, provided Snickers with the best care his mother could have ever asked for.

Although Anna knows in her heart that God's timing is always perfect, she is seriously struggling with the profound loss of her sweet boy. She is trying very hard to rejoice for all of the time she got to spend with him. She knows it was a miracle that they found each other to begin with, and she knows God meant them for each other. She always told Baby Snickers he was God's favorite rabbit, and she knows he still is. As the art on Snicks's bedroom wall says, "Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart."

In loving memory of Baby Snickers, February 14, 2010 - May 17, 2017.

Rest in peace, my sweet boy, in the arms of St. Francis of Assisi. Please know how much I miss you, and I will love you forever. Until we meet again ... Love, Mommy

Something that Remembers the Words.

Joe had his moment, so it's back to books. :)

Well, really, Joe was present when this photo was taken, so I guess he kind of relates.

Over spring break, back in March, Joe and I took a trip with his parents to Copper Mountain, Colorado. It was lovely and a lot of fun, but I say all this to say -- on our last day, before we had to go to the airport, we walked around and had lunch in a lovely little town called Frisco. There was a local bookshop we wandered around in for a while (and I did what I always do in bookstores, which is look around at books I might want to rent from the library. I'm sorry local booksellers!), and when we were done, I realized this was on the outside of the front of the store:

Isn't this wonderful? This is exactly how I feel about stories.

Something that remembers the words all the way through without a single mistake.

Joe, You Made the Blog.

In this post, I commented that my life had changed in two very significant ways since August. I went on to explain one of them, but I never provided details on the other. In fact, things have gotten even more significant since I wrote that.

Let me explain.

The short version is ...

... I AM GETTING MARRIED.

To the most wonderful man in the world.

And we are very private.

But the time has come for a blog post about my husband-to-be.

(Mostly because last weekend, the weekend he asked me to marry him, he said something like this: "Do you think I will make the blog now? I mean, you blog about books a lot. But not me." Touche. But I mean -- it's books. :) )

The thing is, I don't really know what to say. As I wrote in my Facebook post when I announced our engagement, Jane Austen wrote, "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." 

Mr. Knightley had it right.

When you have a love of this magnitude, simple words won't do.

And I'm a words person.

This is Joe Kraft (and me, duh).

He is my fiance (what?!), and I don't deserve him.

He is loyal. He is honest. He is open. He has a huge heart. He is hard working. He is giving. He does everything for me.

I have no idea why, but exactly a week ago today, in a beautiful spot on a beautiful night, Joe asked me to marry him.

I said, "Of course I will." (Really quickly before he changed his mind.)

And we are getting married.

I could say so much more. I have so much more in my heart. But there just aren't words for it. Or if there are, I don't know them. At least not right now.

I'm sure I will write a longer post in the future. There is more to say about being single, and waiting for God to send you the right person, and trusting God, but those posts will come.

Today, though, on the one week anniversary of our engagement, all I have is this:

"Love, true love, is magic. Not just any magic. The most powerful magic of all." 

(And, Story ... I think the clock started in Huntington again. Finally. It's 8:16.)

#happilyeverkrafter

(#thankyousarahnavy)

You'll Like It. Someone Dies In It.

I teach an afterschool enrichment class on Monday afternoons this quarter. This class is on movie making. I have nine students, and they are split into three groups of three. The students are responsible for writing their own scripts and acting in, filming, and editing their movies. I told them I'd help them with whatever they needed: props, costumes, filming for them if everyone in the group needed to be in the scene.

Today was the first day of filming. The three groups were spread all over the bottom floor of the school, in stairwells, the science lab, and the locker room. At one point, one of my students comes to me and says, "Miss Lafferre, we need you to film the next scene for us since we're all in it."

Of course I agreed.

Then she says, "You'll like it. Someone dies in it."

It's quite a reputation I have going for myself in the middle school. About midway through last year, I think it was, the students informed me that the biggest thing they've learned from me in their years with me is how to kill people and/or get rid of a body.

WHAT.

But then I realized ... YEP.

Between The Cremation of Sam McGee, The Most Dangerous Game, The Outsiders, Tuck Everlasting, And Then There Were None, and, I'm sure, others, I've taught the kids how to poison, hunt, trap, maim, and cremate people.

Which, with my luck, is all they'll remember about Language Arts with me. But I guess it's something.

Knowledge is power.

Another Love Letter to the Library.

I don't know if I've ever mentioned it before, but I love reading.

And I love the library.

Scratch that.

LOVE the library.

LOVE.

I can't remember what I had for dinner last night, but I do have my library card number memorized.

If you've been reading this blog for awhile, then you know I practically lived at the Cabell County Public Library last summer.

In what is perhaps my favorite post I've ever written, I talked about how I don't need self-help books because books are my self-help.

I will be spending the majority of the summer living out of town, and I've done nothing to prepare but see if I'll be able to get a library card in the local area.

Yesterday afternoon I took 10 students from our school's chapter of the National Junior Honor Society (I'm the faculty adviser) to volunteer at the Gallaher Village Public Library, the library closest to our school. This library also happens to be the one where I grew up; the one where Kathy took us all summer long every summer when I was a kid. The librarians at Gallaher Village are attempting to reorganize their nonfiction section, and our task yesterday was to take a list of titles, find them, and pull them off the shelves. It was like a big scavenger hunt! Simple, right?

There we were, tightly squeezed in three aisles looking for our books when, about 10 minutes in, I realized what happens when I take a big group of nerds (self included) to the library.

"Miss Lafferre, look at this!"

"Wow! This book looks cool."

"I think I'm going to check this out." 

And my favorite ...

"Miss Lafferre, how many words do you think are in this library?" 

"I don't think I know the word that means that number, KG. Quadrillions? Quintillions?" 

... and that was only from the kids who WEREN'T sitting on the floor looking through their books.

As I was looking for one of my titles -- a book about Lewis Carroll, I believe -- it just hit me (again): there is nowhere on earth I feel happier or more at home than the library. I just can't explain how I feel when I'm there. I LOVE it.

All those words. All those stories.

All those books that are full of the same 26 letters, arranged, and rearranged, and rearranged again.

It's magic. Words are magic.

Valentines that my little sister from Big Brothers Big Sisters and I made when we spent Valentine's Day at the place I love most, the library! 

The Lord Will Fight For You.

Wow. It's been an awfully long time. Longer than long actually.

I've missed my space and the friends that pop by here and share their thoughts on my thoughts.

A lot has happened since I last posted on August 31. A lot. In fact, my life has changed in two very significant ways since that day, and I'd like to tell you about one of them now. I have been writing and planning this post in my mind for months and months, and this week three different people have told me they miss my blog posts, so I decided it's finally time to tell this tale. I think, if you read it all, you'll understand why I wasn't able to write these past few months.

Those of you who have read this blog or known me for a while probably remember this post when I announced I was answering God's calling to be a teacher, quickly followed by this post where I announced I was answering God's calling to be a teacher RIGHT NOW.

Over the past 2.5 years, I have consistently taught sixth, seventh, and eighth grade Language Arts, as well as fifth and seventh grade religion and seventh grade social studies at various times. There have been some very low times, but there have been many more wonderful moments, and I have never doubted (okay, MAYBE after my very first day!) that being a middle school teacher is God's plan for my life. I can't imagine ever doing anything else.

Do you remember at the end of The Wizard of Oz movie when Oz is talking to the Scarecrow? Oz says,

Back where I come from we have universities, seats of great learning -- where men go to become great thinkers. And when they come out, they think deep thoughts -- and with no more brains than you have.... But!  They have one thing you haven't got!  A diploma! 

Well, for the past 2.5 years, think of me as the Scarecrow.

I was doing the same exact thing every single day as teachers all across the nation, but they all have one thing "I haven't got! A diploma!"

I started the Master of Arts in Teaching program at Marshall University at the exact same time I started my first year of teaching. I was taking a full-time graduate load while also being a teacher. There were many times at Marshall that my Catholic school -- and sometimes me personally -- were seen as lesser than because it wasn't public school.

Nevertheless, I continued with my classes, taking full-time loads in fall of 2014, spring of 2015, summer of 2015, and fall of 2015. I did everything that was requested and required of me: wrote lesson plans, presented projects, went to class, earned Clinical II hours in a local high school. All the while, I'm a first- and then second-year teacher, prepping about 35 lessons per week.

Then came the pivotal moment. Spring of 2016, so last year at this time, I was scheduled to complete my full-time student teaching, followed by earning my degree in May. Teaching students who are working full time in a public school are allowed to use their jobs as their student teaching, and West Virginia state law says that private school teachers can only do so if their university offers a one-credit special topics course, covering things that one might see in public school but not private school. (Which is mostly silly, but I digress.)

At first, Marshall told me I could not use my full-time job as my student teaching. This, of course, was devastating to me, because I loved my job, loved my students, and didn't want to leave them. Then, after having a conversation with my principal and superintendent, Marshall told me I could use my job as my student teaching hours, and I would begin that in January with my classmates. I left for Christmas break, thrilled that I could continue working at my job. I also filled out the required paperwork for a student teaching license from the state (yes, you need a student teaching license to teach at your own job), paid the fee, and also got fingerprinted and paid the fee for that too.

HOWEVER.

On January 5, right after I returned to school after Christmas break, and right before Marshall's semester was slated to begin, I received this email. In fact, it came in right before my eighth grade students were returning to class after lunch.

After quite a bit of conversation between Dean Eagle and the WVDE, it appears that what we were originally told about you being able to do student teaching at your current job was incorrect.  After a phone discussion this morning, it was clarified to us by the WVDE that we cannot do that.  According to Policy 5100, 6.4.b.6 candidates who complete their clinical experience in a nonpublic school must also “complete a course which is a component of the institution’s  WVBE-approved  educator  preparation  program  that  provides  information  sufficient  to prepare  the  prospective  teacher  to  demonstrate  competence  to  teach  in  the  public  schools  of  West Virginia.”  Marshall does not have a course of this nature as part of its approved program.  For this reason, if we did allow you to student teach in a private school, you would not meet the requirements for certification.

At this point, you have two options.  We can place you in a public school so that you can finish your program and certification this semester if you want to go that route.  We already have tentative public school placements lined out.  If you prefer to keep your current position and not student teach at this time, I completely understand and will take you off the student teaching list.  Please let me know what you want to do.

Please imagine you are me. Students are getting ready to come in, the graduate school semester is about to start, and all of a sudden you receive a big JUST KIDDING from your university. (You also have to understand that Marshall had been very difficult to work with, to say the least, from the very beginning. This was just one in a VERY long line of things that had been exhausting. I'm a rule follower, and don't believe I am above the rules, but everything I had done had been by the rules I had been given. Also, please understand I am speaking specifically to the Master of Arts in Teaching program, as my Master's in Journalism is from Marshall, and those people were wonderful.)

Seriously?

My principal talked to Marshall about adding the one-credit course as a special topics option for me, but, to make a long story short, they wouldn't.

In my humble opinion, teachers who leave their students mid-school year without a VERY good reason are highly questionable. I would never do that to my students. They don't deserve it. (And I loved them and wasn't ready to leave them. I'm still not ready to leave them, and they've been gone almost a year. :) )

After I taught the eighth grade that day, I went upstairs to my principal's office and just stood in her doorway. She had received the email too. My principal, who has been AMAZING during this process, just told me it was going to be okay, she had an idea.

So I went back down to my classroom, crushed. And then I did the only thing I could do. I prayed. I told God that I started this job in answer to what I believed He was calling me to do. I understood that He had been covering all my mistakes and shortcomings for me. I told Him I would hand all this over to Him, and I trusted He would show me what to do.

And then I hung this on the wall behind my desk, where it still remains today:

Oh, how many days I've looked at that quotation.

My principal, who is a graduate of Wheeling Jesuit University, a Catholic school in this state, had already reached out to people she knew there to see how they could help. It turned out that Jesuit, while not having a Master's program, did have an Accelerated Certification for Teaching program, which would suit my needs fine, and which would allow me to continue to teach at my school and earn my license.

FANTASTIC.

I bet you think you've reached the end of the story, don't you?

You have not.

It turned out that it was too late for me to begin student teaching at Jesuit last spring, so I would have to wait for the fall. It also turned out that they required a class that Marshall hadn't required, so I had to take (and pay for) yet another course, which I took online last spring.

Still not done.

Because student teaching licenses are only valid for six months, I had to apply for (and pay for) another student teaching license from the state and also pay to get fingerprinted again too. Fine.

So, if you're still awake and not bored to death by this convoluted and incredibly long saga, to recap -- I applied for my student teaching license to work at my job and began a new school year this past fall. I also took the required student teaching and special topics courses at Jesuit to accompany my student teaching experience.

If you think I'm done with this story now, you don't know me in person.

So, there I am, working away at teaching school and also going to school as well. I continued to check the status of my student teaching license online, and it said pending all the time.

Until one fateful day in October. October 21 to be exact.

On October 18, mid-semester, I reached out to the state to inquire about the status of my application and why I had heard NOTHING from them. I received this email in reply on October 21:

I regret to inform you that your application has been denied due to ineligibility. It does not appear that a clinical placement in Our Lady of Fatima Parish School with additional coursework (EDF 374) is authorized for issuance of the Clinical Experience Permit. You may want to communicate with your institution of higher education about opportunities for completing student teaching and qualifying for the clinical experience permit. We have been in communications with Jeremy Vittek in regards to this issue. I apologize for the confusion and appreciate your patience in waiting for a response.

The email came in at 12:12 p.m. If you're keeping score at home, I had paid my tuition to Jesuit, had completed my coursework, and had paid for fingerprinting and another license application. I had done my 90-page teaching portfolio. AND THE SEMESTER WAS ALMOST OVER.

To say I LOST MY EVER-LOVING MIND would be an understatement.

I called the director of my program and was more unprofessional than I've ever been because I was basically crying and at a total loss. Luckily he was nice. He explained what happened. And I just sat in my car, in my pink raincoat, listening to his explanation in shock.

You might recall that I mentioned that I needed a special topics course per state law because I was student teaching at a Catholic school. Jesuit offered that course, I HAD BEEN TAKING IT, and it was a course they had offered for years. Apparently, however, Jesuit had not filed the proper paperwork with the state to, I don't know, re-register the course? Renew it? At any rate, the state said the course was invalid. The plan was, according to the director, they would hopefully get the course approved, and then the state would retroactively approve my student teaching application in time for me to graduate in December.

Once again, please put yourself in my shoes. As Atticus Finch would say, climb into my skin and walk around in it.

I'm not sure how I continued to teach classes after lunch that day, but I'm a teacher and that's what we do. We teach. No matter what is going on in our personal lives.

No matter who is trying to tell us that we aren't really teachers.

I kept going back to that sign on my wall. Over and over. I prayed. I asked others to join me in my prayers.

Then, right before Thanksgiving, (that's right, a month later), I received this from the program director:

I just heard from the WVDE and the course was approved! I will get in touch with the certification officer to see what the next step is. 

And then right before Christmas, this arrived at my house:

After all of this. ALL OF THIS. 2.5 years OF THIS. I had gotten that certification.

The next step was to apply for my teaching license, which I did as soon as my transcripts were official. I applied for my license on January 10. I was notified by the state I was missing Form 7, then told my transcripts from my undergraduate institution, Shepherd, weren't on file, blah, blah. I checked my application online every single day.

One afternoon after school, February 27 to be exact, I logged online yet again, in hopes I would see that my Shepherd transcripts had arrived. Instead I saw this

My friends. There are no words. Absolutely no words. I am a words person, I LOVE WORDS, and I have none. No words, no font size, no anything could convey to you how I felt in that moment.

To say it was the greatest day of my life might be an understatement.

I had done it. God and I had done it.

Providentially, the person I first told, the person standing in my classroom when I saw it, was none other than last year's class clown, the trash can kid, back for a visit. His first reaction? "MISS LAFFERRE THAT IS SO AWESOME!" His second reaction? "Are you crying AGAIN?"

I am a person with many shortcomings. I fail multiple times a day. I make mistakes as a teacher every single day. I am a sinner.

But if I can say anything for myself, it is this: I earned every inch -- every centimeter -- of that teaching license. I fought for it daily for 2.5 years. I encountered roadblock after roadblock after roadblock. I fought for that license on days when my students were killing me. I fought for that license on days when parents weren't nice to me. I endured these trials because God saw it fit for me to, and He knows best.

Upon reflection (teachers love that, right?), I realized why God asked me to go through so much for this teaching license. I believe it is because He wants to make sure that I never, ever take that piece of paper for granted. He wants to be sure that I never take the blessing of being a teacher for granted.

Even as I write this now, I am crying. I will never, ever be able to express what is in my heart about this license.

If you are a teacher, I hope this story reminds you why you are one and makes you proud to have that license.

If you are not a teacher but are a parent, I hope this reminds you that your children's teachers, for the most part, are human beings who love your kids and are doing the best that they can.

If you are neither a teacher nor a parent, then I hope the one thing you get from what I wrote is this:

The Lord will fight for you. You need only to be still.