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Thursday, September 4, 2014

Reflections on September's Return

Well, it's that day again.  September is here.  It's the first day of school.

I get stuck on this day between glee and gratitude and fret and fear.  Between the hope of new beginnings and time to myself and the torment of the ridiculously fast passage of time.  I relish the way this season in my life opens me up to vast possibilities:  write a book, run a marathon, take a new Bible study class, have a lunch date with my husband.   At the same time, as I watch a boy turned man saunter out the door, I curse my inability to go back to soggy Cheerios stuck in blond curls and a pudgy Pampers-clad bottom snuggled on the couch watching Blue's Clues.

I spend much of the morning scrolling through Facebook photos of kids with bright new backpacks and shiny new shoes.  Some hold signs showing that they have marched on to a new grade or even a new school.  They've made their own decisions about what to wear, how long or how short their hair will be, if they will buy or bring their lunch.  They are growing up, moving on and walking ever faster to the future God has set before them.  And I am all at once, thrilled and heartbroken by the fact that we are forced to loosen our grip on the children He gifted us.

Most of us get to feel all of these conflicting feelings this week.  And we're blessed beyond measure by that.  This year, I have a new perspective.  A year ago this month I first met with the Kyle's Kamp Committee to offer myself to the cause for Childhood Cancer.  I sat at a table with Sandy Rupp who had lost her boy to brain cancer a mere six weeks before our meeting.  I sat with Rob Hahne whose son was in his third year of battling leukemia.  And I began a journey in understanding how very, very differently they must look at the first day of school.


*Kyle Hahne on his way to the first day of 5th Grade.*

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