For those of you who have just met me, I’ll give you a bit of background – Three of our beautiful grandchildren are living with us while their mom and dad are in a marvelous recovery/rehabilitation/restoration program. All is well but all is not truly well until this whole ordeal is over (especially the sentencing.)
Today was the first day of school. New school for the kids. Mom and Dad aren’t taking them this morning – I am, so I’m feeling a bit sad about it – for them – for Mom and Dad – for me.
Jacob’s doing well – I think! Will his ear hurt at school? Does he have a bad infection? Or is it clearing up? Should I make a Dr. appointment after school? Will he lose his only key for his locker padlock?
Benny wanted me to walk him in the building – up to his classroom – but he didn’t want his sister tagging along, so he opted out and decided to make the trek himself – the long trek to a new classroom in a different school, without his friends. All the other kids know how to go through the lunch line – which foods are part of the school lunch – which foods are ‘a la carte.
Five minutes before we left the house this morning, he showed me the papers the teacher gave him at open house last week – papers I hadn’t seen because I was busy, filling out papers! A reading survey to fill out. Directions for the first report – What I Did During My Summer Vacation. Oh, well, I assured him the teacher will gladly receive those assignments tomorrow instead. He made the trek alone – big boy that he now is – to the 5th grade.
Slowly (very slowly) I proceed down the street to the elementary where countless cars are creeping along, trying to find parking spaces – walking their children into the building. And so we find a parking space, and I walk Kaylee toward her classroom. “Oh-oh. We forgot your lunch.” A panic-stricken look envelops her face until I add, “I’ll bring it back before 11:00. No problem, Honey.” We enter her brightly decorated classroom. She loves her new teacher – Mrs. Losey – but she looks down, almost ready to cry. I whisper, “Can I hug you before I leave, or don’t you want me to?” She shakes her head, No. So I take my hand away from her sweet little shoulder and say goodbye.
I step out of the room and peek back, knowing she will be fine in the care of Mrs. Losey, hoping she won’t cry – like I am.
And it could have been different this morning. Mommy and Daddy could have taken their children to school on this first day. (They are nearby – in town for a probate court conference this morning.) But DHS has their rules – their often ridiculous rules. (How many times I’ve questioned them – is this really in the best interest of the children?????)
I pray. I remember that I have already committed all these things to the Lord. I commit them again. I remember that I trusted Him in it all. I trust Him now. I remember that He spreads His protection over them (my children) – that He blesses the righteous – and that He surrounds us with His favor as a shield. (Psalm 5:11-12)
Headed back to the elementary with the lunch now.
