Today started off as any other school day. I got up with a start (because I over slept), I got school clothes ironed, I got the children up out of their beds. I made their breakfast and packed Cait’s lunch. I made sure teeth were brushed, papers signed, backpacks were packed. I laid my hands on them, covered them, covered their schools, as I’ve always done. I gave them hugs and I went to work and they went to school.
But something happened to me as I drove to the school this afternoon to pick up my son Matthew. I became overwhelmed with emotion. Pretty soon, I couldn’t hold back the tears.
My heart broke as I realized so many parents in Connecticut were just like me last week, rushing around, and sending their beloved children off to school without another thought. Then suddenly, their worlds collapsed and darkness descended upon them with a heaviness that threatened to smother them.
I’ve been strong up til today but today, I just decided to feel and to cry.
By the time I got to my daughter’s preschool, I jumped out and hugged every teacher I could. I know them well and they know me. I’m not ashamed to admit that those women at St. Andrews Child Development Center have partnered with me in raising my children. They call me if Caitlyn seems even the slightest bit different. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that in my absence, they are the mothers.
I hugged them and thanked them. I told each of them that not just now but for months, I’ve been covering each of them in prayer. I thanked them for sacrificing their lives to show compassion and love to children. I told them they weren’t staff members. They were family. Mrs. Suzie, Mrs. Melissa, Mrs. Tami, Mrs. Ross, Mrs. Shannon…all of these women are an extension of my family.
I’m grateful to God for allowing my children to be a part of such great schools.
I’m grateful today to still have the routine of caring for and enjoying the love, laughs, and presence of my dear children.
It’s easy to complain when you’re running late and when someone whines, complains and spills juice for the 100th time on your couch or tan carpet. But life has a way of bringing you perspective. And for those of us who have the sobering reality of being comforters instead of mourners today, we can’t help but take a moment to say thank you Lord and nip the complaints in the bud.
Everything may not be perfect and Lord knows things aren’t always easy. But God has been so good and the real treasures in life cannot be replaced.
I love the Word of God and I love ministering to His people in a variety of ways. But at the end of the day, I’m someone’s mom. And today, more than ever, I realize how blessed I am to be able to say this.
My prayers are with the grieving families in Newtown, CT. I have no flowing words of encouragement nor great oratory masterpiece to give. I’m just a mom today. And my heart aches for the moms just like me who are in a night season of grief right now.
One of the hardest things to fathom in the night is that there is a daybreak to look forward to.
And as crazy as this may be to hear or even to believe, even in this deep darkness, the light will shine again. And I’ll pray for you when you can’t pray for yourself until that glorious day breaks for you again.
Hold on Newtown…