Prologue: I hope that my words speak to your heart somehow, because the devil has sure been working on mine. Every morning he renews his attack. He chides me about my cluttered home; he reminds me—constantly—of all my failures; and he taunts me nonstop about the many accomplishments of all my friends.
“Get behind me,” I say, and I walk away, while his words, like a clattering gong, resound.
And I am, in a way, but not in the way you might think.
I’m not booting them out the door so I can eat bonbons and watch soaps.
(On the contrary. I prefer blogs and coffee.)
And in any case, I’m certainly not happy to be losing my biggest helper to the school up the street. Cate has long been my right-hand gal—my partner in crime, as it were, when it comes to cooking & crafting & cooing over babies.
How weird to see her in a uniform!
Okay, so, the required black shoes and bobby socks are not a fashion statement I’d make.
Cate’s my sweet and sassy gal—so much like her momma that it scares me sometimes.
It’s both…frightening and consoling, you know? ; )
Ah well. It’s been good for my heart to keep her close all these years. It’s been the greatest of blessings which is why it’s so hard to see her go. I don’t want her to change! And yet—and yet—I know she has to. Give them roots then give them wings, right? I spent most of last year making peace with her leaving, and I sighed as I watched my friends homeschool through high school. I want that, too! I thought out loud, and what could they say? They understood. Meanwhile, I continued to meet some of the nicest families ever at my sons’ school, and realized that the fears in my heart are just that: fear.
And fear is certainly not from God.
I told Him: If this Your will, Lord, make it work financially. We waited to hear on financial aid and we prayed…and when the scholarships came through, my heart knew peace. It’s all good, it really is, and when it’s not, then it’s the cross.
This is our faith! This faith sustains me.
So. As of Wednesday, I have just four at home: A 5th grader, a 3rd grader, a preschooler and a baby.
(A ‘tween and three terrorists, in other words, which should keep me plenty busy.)
It makes letting go a little easier.
Epilogue: And so we wait on the peace that always comes—a light in the darkness, a grace stronger than doubt. We do the many little things we mommas do—like making chocolate chip scones on the first day of school—and we hope that our children forgive us our failings. We care despite our imperfections, and we love despite our distracted heart.
Oh my goodness, how we love.