Letting Go Is Hard

I think the hardest part about sending the kids off to school this week has been realizing that I just don't know what they are doing all day long. It really takes some getting used too, and it is something I struggle with every time a new school year rolls around. Even more so this year, with my little guy starting kindergarten. I know they are at school and they are reading and writing and listening to the teacher and going about their day. I know that they are probably paying attention and chatting with friends and complaining that I put an apple in their lunch instead of a fruit roll-up. I know all the basics, but what I don't know is what is really going on.

I don't know if they are feeling rattled as they get to school because the bus ride was extra noisy. I don't know if they waved hello to a friend who didn't wave back. I don't know if they got turned around on the way down the hallway and maybe starting walking to their classroom from last year only to have to backtrack to their new room, all the while hoping no one noticed their mistake.

I miss them while they are gone all day, and the protective Mama Bear in me wishes I was with them in some miniature version sitting on their shoulder and whispering praise at their triumphs, righting the wrongs against them, and encouraging them in the right direction when they are struggling with a decision.

But, this is real life. I cannot be with them every second of the day. They need to go to school and make their own way.

This is the circle of life (cue Lion King music).


I do know that this poem, which I came across recently (I can't remember where I saved it from) and other similiar prayers I've seen before, have helped me get thru these first weeks of back to school. It reminds me to gently let them go, and trust that I've done my best to prepare them for the world they are facing. And it reassures me that even when I cannot be with them, God always is.

And I am beyond grateful for that.



A Mom's Prayer On the First Day of School

Here we are again, Lord. Their backpacks are loaded and their faces are scrubbed and their lunch accounts are full.

And I know you'll walk with them, Lord. You always do. But a mom still has to ask.

Will You walk with them? Will You whisper to them what they need to hear, when I'm not there to whisper it?

Will You please, oh please, cover their school with the protection only You can give, and will You keep harm far away?

Will You make their minds strong and ready to learn? Will You help them understand that hard work honors the One who created them?

Will You guide their teachers, giving them patience and wisdom and creativity and more patience? Will You bless them for their efforts?

Will You love all those children there, the ones whose lunch accounts aren't full, the ones who feel alone?

Will You teach my children to be kind and unselfish and to love those who are different from them?

Will You point them back toward home just as soon as you can?

Lord, I give them to You today and everyday, trusting them to Your care.

Amen.