You’re reading first day of school books and assuring your kindergartener that it isn’t really that long of a day if they really think about it. All the while, trying hard not to let yourself really think about it.
I’m praying for you.

You’re coming off of the summer juggle. Arranging childcare for summer is a full time job in itself. Planning drop offs in preparation for the morning, brings a small sense of relief. And also, a huge helping of guilt.
I’m praying for you.

You’re watching him walk down the hall for his last first day of elementary school. You’re grateful for the peace of known community…but, the comfort of familiarity has never felt like a fleeting sting before today.
I’m praying for you.

You’re compiling all the curriculum you’ve researched. Printing charts and schedules…readying reward systems and lining up outside resources. You feel The Lord’s call to be a homeschool family…and also the immense blessing for the extra time and open schedules. Yet the enemy is throwing every tactic he has. Inadequacy reminders, chatter of judgement, overwhelm, and doubt.
I’m praying for you.

You’re in full blown excitement mode. You’ve laid out the outfits, bought the new book bags, pre packed 3 days worth of lunches, and got the exact teacher you hoped for. You love all things about a new year in a traditional schooling environment. However, you know there is no such thing as perfect…and must intentionally resolve not to sink into the concern of all that could possibly mean.
I’m praying for you.

You’re classroom is ready, and your lesson plans are set. Your degree is being put to good use, but it failed to truly prepare you for the highs and lows.  You anticipate seeing lightbulb moments and giving a safe haven to a lofty number of wide-eyed youth. But weather it be the weight in responsibility of being class-time mom or that of divided time to your own children’s school year…whatever the weight’s cause…it’s predominance and your lack of margin can not be ignored.
I’m praying for you.

You’re thankful for weekly chapels and classroom call-outs of The Name of Jesus. The uniforms make things easier on a failed alarm clock morning, and you adore seeing her home room teacher every Sunday on the pew up front.
But your financial commitment is a sacrifice. Possibly even a burden. There is no escape from sin…and you wonder if it’s worth it.
I’m praying for you.

You’re recounting the past 9 years. You know you were immersed in them, but can’t wrap your head around how they’ve already passed. You feel proud of the young man he’s become…but grasping at what high school looks like…for you.
I’m praying for you.

You’re on your knees in her empty room. You bought all new dorm stuff…so technically the room is how it always has been…and yet, it is fully empty. You know you did your best. You treasure who she’s become. But you can’t help but visualize yesterday…standing with her on top of the world, and today feeling her fingers slip from yours as she dives in to it.
I’m praying for you.

From Mother’s morning out…to those anticipating a college graduation this summer, and every step in between…
this year will feel different for every single mama…for EVERY. SINGLE. STUDENT. Including the one who’s child will be seated next to yours. And I can ensure that each first day comes with its own celebrations…and very own battles. Yet we all will be in the trenches of hopeful friend decisions, expectation of spiritual/relational/educational growth, and yearning for good health and ever present safety. And so, over-considering the schooling journey of someone else, only depletes the energy you need for your own fight. Oh, but praying for them…praying for them, supernaturally equips you with full armor…and hands pivotal victory plans into the fight of others.
So mama, on the first day of school, I want you to know…I’m praying for you!

Has been extravagant with embrace…

I’ve always lavished my children with love, But there’s never been this ample space.

Extra hugs come in the morning

As the unrushed day begins…

With generous affection for a sibling,

A new appreciation for that friend.

I’ve felt the embrace of My Savior

As the enemy tries his best…

Yet victory defeats those best laid plans, Using only an infantry of rest.

The embrace of utter compassion

Has been a wave washed on my shore…

As I ache for those needing healing,

And those whose plates could not hold more.

For the healthcare worker filling the gap And the family they go home to…

For the pink slips littering towns,

And those lost, wondering what they’ll do.

I’ve felt the distant embrace

And I’m sure of certain things…

Especially in the morning,

And the joy it surely brings.

When all of this is over

I know one thing I hope is true…

That when things go back to normal,

I’ll embrace them all as new.

A friend within a hallway

As we take the time to chat…

May I embrace the beauty of conversation, And the simple gift of that.

Every single occupation

That creates a comfort to my day…

May my lips be messengers of thanks,

To ensure gratitude is what they say.

As we gather on that Sunday

When the Church goes building bound…

I pray to fellowship with worship,

And fully embrace that precious sound.

When a virus isn’t our focus

And our busy regains existence…

I’m committed to the continued embrace,

That I’ve discovered at a distance.