Hey, tired teacher.

I see you.

I see you at 7:00 p.m., grading papers while you eat the leftovers you took for lunch but didn't get a chance to eat. A thirty minute lunch got cut short by a student who lost her lunchbox.

I see you at 11:30 a.m., scrounging around for coins in your top desk drawer--just enough to insert into the break room vending machine in exchange for a pack of M&Ms and a Diet Coke. Chocolate and caffeine can cure just about anything, right?!

I see you in your meeting, thinking of all the things you need to get done in your classroom before you go home the precious ones who get to call you "mama" instead of "Mrs."

I see you struggling to find a way to reach that student who is simply not "getting it."

I see your tears, your frustration, your desire for routine and yet a desire to get out of the routine you're already in. Such a tiring routine.

But tired teacher, I see more than that in you.

I see you at 7:00 a.m. as you pray over your classroom, and pray for protection throughout the day.

I see you at 11:30 p.m., as you lay down and think of the student who did "get it" today. You think of her proud smile and you, too, let a smile dance across your face.

I see you in your meeting, jotting down notes on how you can be an even better teacher. I see the way you still love to learn. I see the way you love to instill in your students that same love for learning.

I see the way the lucky one who gets to call you "mama" watches you pour your heart into your calling. I see her play teacher. I see her dreaming of becoming an educator one day, too.

I see the way little Mr. I-Don't-Get-It-Yet admires you for taking the time to tell him he matters. Oh, he does.

I see little Mr.I-Got-It-Before-I-Walked-In-This-Classroom working with excitement on a project you knew would challenge him. Oh, he needs it.

I see you. Overworked. Underpaid.

Appreciated.

Talented.

Valuable.

Creative.

Loving.

I see you. Frustrated. Tired.

Fulfilled.

Blessed.

Admired.

Difference-maker.

I see you giving it your all and wondering if it's enough.

It is.

I see you wondering if you are truly making a difference.

You are.

Hey, tired teacher. See what you have done in my life?

You are the one who taught me to dream. To imagine. To think for myself.

You are the one who taught me about the seasons. And in the fall, thanks to the apple-tasting activity, I realized yellow apples exist.

You are the one who helped create in me a love for writing. You told me I was good at it. You encouraged me to just keep writing. When I didn't have ideas. When my ideas didn't seem important. Even when I knew no one would ever read it.

You are the one who taught me about our country--our beautiful country and its rich history. And how to identify the 50 states on a map. Please forgive me, tired teacher, because that one didn't completely stick with me.

You, yes you, wrote a sweet note of encouragement the day before cheer tryouts. That note has served as encouragement far beyond that tryout.

You are the one who pulled me aside as we decorated for prom and reminded me that I could not do it alone. What a beautiful reminder.

You are the reason I chose to pursue a career in education.

If getting to impact the lives of children means being a tired teacher, then hey--call me Miss Tired Teacher. I will wear that on my name tag with pride.

And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up. Galatians 6:9