First of all, a disclaimer: This post holds a high potential to make my writing instructor cringe.

It will not be edited, as the hour is late – more on the reason for that later – and I am currently halfway through a 4 day teachers’ conference.

(Think overload in all categories – socially, spiritually, intellectually, emotionally… even physically, if you drag yourself away from those wonderfully conversational strangers to engage in a few games of volleyball. Enough said.)

This exhausted human, now home in solitude, is apparently unable to break away from the endless flow of words I’ve been alternately drowning and delighting in.

Instead of listening to a talented speaker who has prepared an organized topic, I’m now the one needing to release words. Random words. 1:00 am words. Words that capture the essence of various, disconnected aspects of teachers’ week. And you, brave soul who has made it this far, are the recipient of it all.

So, here goes… I warned you!

Breakfast with strangers is a pleasantly awkward way to begin an event. Today (the second day) was slightly noisier than yesterday, however I am still grateful that no crunchy foods are on the breakfast menu. Yogourt and fresh berries are as silent as the people waking up at my table.

Singing from my heart with an auditorium full of humans who have now had their morning coffee is definitely awesome. I love looking across the group and seeing the beautiful diversity in God’s family… how we all share a common passion for Christian education, yet so many different walks of life are represented. It’s like a glimpse of the Bride of Christ to me – His kingdom is not limited to one people group or way of living out the Bible!

By mid-morning, my arm is tired from writing. Possibly I overdo note-taking… but when you place a pen in a teacher’s hand… especially if it has nice ink, well – it’s inevitable. The pages will be filled.

Lunch arrives. We’re all abuzz about our personality types, and specifically how to deal with personality clashes with students. How much do we unconciously frustrate our students, simply by being us? How can we as educators intentionally embrace the unique characteristics of each God-designed child in our class? Eventually, our plates are empty, and it’s time for some volleyball.

You can’t solve every school problem during teacher’s week, so when ideas have been sufficiently shared… postpone the issue. It won’t take care of itself; it will remain for further discussion… but those courts look inviting and the game is happening now.

After an afternoon of more instruction on teaching, my mind is wearily whirling. I should feel brilliantly equipped and inspired to teach – but I really feel like I just need my bed.

So I joined another conversation. Stayed there for a lengthy time, transitioned to someone’s backyard to continue socializing around a campfire…

Someone asked what our goals are for the coming year, since we’re receiving this training. My response? “I had specific goals, before this. Now they’re crushed under the weight of awareness that I have so much to improve in!” (I know myself, though. Those goals will revive with more passion than ever after this week.)

After many more random topics had been covered, and my mind journeyed in several more abstract directions, my car and I journeyed home. To solitude, quietness, and bed.

Instead of feeling sleepy though, my brain started regurgitating every piece of information that’s been thrown at me. Not in a cohesive manner, mind you.

And this is where this post’s title finally enters the picture. (I apologize. It’s terrible to delay this long. Possibly it’s only sheer curiosity that has kept you until now… and if you’re skimming, I understand.)

So I got home, with all these thoughts spinning, and as I’m wondering how I will ever retain all of this, I heard one thing replaying distinctly. The speaker’s voice rang confidently in my memory, I could see the earnestness on his face as he declared, “Sufganiyot.”

Then the crowd’s tentative response, according to the direction given in how to pronounce the word. “Sufganiyot.”

And my very overwhelmed mind, replaying this moment, could not remember the meaning of the word!!! This Hebrew word, taught by a couple who spent several years living in Jewish culture, must have some deep spiritual meaning attached to it that I must not forget!

I was desparate. My binder is at school, so I can’t access my notes until tomorrow. Would google really embody all that the word meant to me? I couldn’t even remember in what way it resonated in my heart, but it must have if my mind was so clearly recalling it?!

But then, suddenly, it came to me. The speaker saying, “Sufganiyout is the Hebrew word for donut.“

Yes. That’s correct. It means donut. And I had it in the same category as words like shalom or gelassenheit…

Sometimes things aren’t as deep as we make them.

But for me, personally, the deeper and hidden meaning of sufganiyot will always be this week. These moments.

And sure, a donut.