Well, it is here, the night before Kindergarten for my Connor. I know he is ready, I know it is time. But, it is sure going to be harder than our first experience.
You see, sweet Landon, my outgoing, gregarious, firstborn waltzed right into his new school, that fateful first day of Kindergarten, while dear old mom was 9 months preggers and hormonal as heck, and tried to get away without even a hug. I begged him to come back to his mama and hug me. He did, but very quickly after that, he was gone.
I remember saying, "Is that it?" Is that how this goes? That was so quick. I barely feel like I even existed in that moment. What. Just. Happened?
Landon peaced out. That is my oldest...but not my middle. Oh, how this boy is tender.
As Connor walked down the hall, even just to Kindergarten readiness camp...he took one little step at a time, blowing kisses with each step as he looked back at me and blew them to me. This was just a half day camp, friends. What the heck am I going to do tomorrow?
I started thinking about this and about another recent event at our house. Landon was stung by a bee about two weeks ago. He had a very significant allergic reaction with head to toe hives, itchy lips and swollen ears. I quickly gave him benadryl and thankfully, he did not progress to any type of breathing difficulty. However...this little event, bought us 6 epi pens, one for each person/place that he frequents and a trip to the allergist to talk about the possibility of immunotherapy. In a matter of minutes, my life (and Landon's!) changed.
Since that time, he has been terrified of being outdoors and really has only ventured out if literally touching Stan or I.
This same child, the one that "peaced out" the first day of Kindergarten, the one who felt confident and self-sufficient enough to blaze that new path without looking back, all by himself, quickly drew back to his safe place when his confidence was rocked.
How often do we do that with God? When things are going well, smooth, according to our plan, we just take more and more steps out ahead in the path. We confidently trust ourselves, until....BAM, the sting. The sting of disappointment, of pain, of bad news, of sad news, of lost dreams, of confusion, or fear, of regret, of ... name your demon.
Once we are stung, we draw in, draw close to the Father, wanting his touch, needing to know he is near. We know that he has the only thing that can save us, Jesus. Just like, in Landon's situation, he knows that Stan and I have an epi pen. He knows the significance of his allergy and he knows he cannot trust himself alone, he has to rely on someone else.
Right now, his fear is crippling. Right now, it is smothering. But, slowly but surely, I believe, with time and with more information, he will become more confident with his ability to use the epi pen if needed and to walk in faith, not in fear.
When we are first stung, we feel the same way. We feel crippled. We feel broken. We feel terrified of what will happen next, the unknown...our minds race, our fears begin to control us and we run to the Father. We dive in his word, we soak in his truth, we touch his arm, we feel the shelter of his wings.
So, whatever your sting...tomorrow mine will be watching my second baby go to school which does all sorts of things to my psyche, draw close to the Father, and don't just wait for the sting.
God wants us to walk in the shelter of his wings, at all times. The good, the bad, the ugly, the funny, the happy, the sad, the hard, the easy, the peaceful, the stressful. God wants it all. And, I am thankful for the ways he reminds me of that truth.
"He will cover you with his feathers. He will shelter you with his wings. His faithful promises are your armor and protection." - Psalm 91:4
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