I recently agreed to help teach Sunday School at my church, because my mom has taught it to the middle-school aged kids for the past year and a half or so, and with her making an exit, they have fallen into a sort of quandary. There are 2 or 3 of us that said we would help, so I don't expect to have to teach it every week, but in the midst of life-decision making and moving, I'm a little worried that I'm going to short-change the kids.
We are expecting to get some curriculum soon so that whoever is teaching any given week won't have a huge responsibility to plan a lesson, but until then I'm just sort of throwing stuff together.

I've never been the teaching kind, really. At least I've never seen myself as such, more often focusing on my imperfections in that field. I'm not always the most patient person when it comes to trying to get children to focus, but given the fact that I worked at a summer camp for 5 years and never came to blows, I guess I do all right.

I guess it comes down to my sort of self-deprecating tendencies and my constant feelings of inadequacy when involved in any sort of leadership. But really, even the men and women that we consider to be great spiritual leaders - whether historically or presently - definitely are not infallible. A spiritual giant, I do not have to be, and thank the Lord. Because in that respect, falling short is an understatement.

The bloggin' bug has bit again...usually this happens when I have more time on my hands than I know what to do with, but in this case that's just not...the case. Ahem.

I've spent the morning immersed in one of my favorite pet projects: packing. And when I say "favorite pet project", I mean "I've done it so many times now that it's basically like breathing so just give me a few boxes and I'll have my junk in 'em in record time." See those well-loved boxes...they've been packed and taped and broken into and packed and retaped again and again. Lord knows where we got some of them, they've been around so long. Ah, cold but sure friends.

Anyhoo, at least this time we're not going very far. My parents are moving back to jolly ol' England this summer, and as much as I would love to up and go with them, I'm a little past the point in my life where
a) it's normal for me to just follow my parents wherever in sunder they go, and
b) I can just opt out of school and mosey around because it's getting a little ridiculous that I've been in college for the length of time that I have and am still degree-less. Well, almost degree-less. I have an Associate's in English from Rend Lake, which is basically the equivalent of a degree in waitressing. -deep breath-

Moving on (literally, har har), my parents are returning to ol' Blighty while my sisters and myself are finding a place to live here in P'ville. We have a few options, one of which is to board with a woman who offered the upstairs of her house to us. It is not our first choice in any respect, but it's a very reasonable offer. And since it's rent-free and Rachel is saving for grad school in Wales and Mary is saving for college in England and I'm....well I'm...doing whatever--it seems like the most logical option. Sigh. But nothing is decided yet, we're just blindly packing. Seems like I've been in this place before in life.

'Kay. Back to the grindstone.