Last week, I wrote about The Great Unknown, that place of waiting we all have to walk through in some seasons, when we have no idea what’s coming next. Ironically, we got an answer later that day – a temporary answer, anyway. E has been granted a full-time paid internship for the summer. The kind of internship that should lead right into a job.
He starts next Monday.
Silly me, I thought we had more time. Even though we were hoping for a job to come quickly.
But sometimes, when God parts the fog, it might feel like you’ve walked into the middle of the Kentucky Derby – loud and fast and chaotic.
E will be doing the real urban commute – rising before dawn to catch the early train to downtown DC. He’ll probably get home late, just in time to eat a dinner I’ve kept warm and play with L for a few minutes before tucking her into bed.
This means L starts preschool next Monday, too, out of necessity.
Changes, folks. Changes. I don’t even know how to begin to wrap my mind around them.
I haven’t had much time to process it all, which means next Monday morning is probably going to feel like something akin to an earthquake. I’ve been too busy touring preschools with an exhaustive list of questions in hand about things like independent play time versus group activities and where the lunch guidelines come from, not to mention shopping for business attire for E and taking L to the pediatrician to catch up on vaccines.
I have my first school supply list to fill at Target this weekend.
I took L to visit her new school the other day, and she was captivated for all the reasons that led me to choose it. A clean, spacious, colorful classroom filled with natural light and decorated with the children’s latest art projects. Lots of manipulatives to play with. A safe playground with equipment appropriate to her size and grass to run in. Kind teachers. A diverse group of well-behaved kids to play with.
I had to wave goodbye and pretend I was leaving without her to get her to go with me when it was time. It was a good sign.
I know there will be some tears and anxiety on Monday, but I also know she is ready for this. Ready for the social time. Ready for more structure.
And we’re starting slow – I’ll pick her up after lunch every day, bring her home for her nap.
As for me, I’ll have a peaceful, quiet, tidy house to work in every day. I can put on a classical Pandora station in the background, listen to the hum of the appliances if I want.
I’m not naive – I know transitions are hard. There will probably be lots of moments when I’ll wish I had all the noise and mess back, and the toddler radio station playing on Pandora instead.
But in spite of our mutual apprehension, we celebrated the coming changes a little bit last weekend with a picnic and a drive in Shenandoah National Park. It was good to get out into God’s creation, far from all the hustle, and lay eyes on the natural evidence of his sovereignty.
Nothing reminds me of God’s power quite like the simple beauty of his world, the one he created just for us.
It’s going to be a different life. But I think we’re all ready for it.
Blessings,
