My dear ones,
I’ve known this day was coming for three months.
Well, I suppose I’ve always known it would come.
And yet, blink, in quickest flash of a moment it is here.
I am so proud of you on this special day. I had no idea, staring at each of your little faces in the NICU almost six years ago, who you would become and how immeasurably I would come to love you.
I want so much for you. Today and in the days to come. I want all the basics, of course. For you to read this year as you each so love books. It will be a passion we share together as we grow. For you to add and subtract as you begin to compute facts and figures in your head. For you to begin comprehending the fascinating mysteries of science as you experiment and sense new ways for things to come together. For you to learn about different countries and peoples and languages and cultures as you imagine the vast world you have yet to travel.
Oh, but I long for you to learn so many things beyond the basics.
I want you to begin to read other people. To understand their emotions and reactions so you can empathize and understand how to form deep and fulfilling relationships with peers and with elders.
I want you to start understanding how to add in the things which are important and add value and improve your character and subtract out the things which don’t really matter and belittle others and attack your self-esteem.
I want you to passionately seek to find glimpses of the fascinating mysteries of Christ and His sacrifice and His grace and His unfathomable, unfailing, unflinching love for you.
I want you to thoroughly enjoy meeting all peoples of all backgrounds and cultures and incomes and families and respect the diversity they bring to your learning and know that God formed each one of them uniquely with special talents and life purposes.
I know it sounds like such a tall order, but your momma is an optimist. I believe in the best in you and believe you will grow from a funny, high-spirited child into a purposeful and passionate young adult.
I want to do all I can do to help, but I also want to take one step back this year (just one step at a time, my love). You see, you’re growing up and you’re not my little one who needs help getting dressed or who holds my hand on every sidewalk. If I’m being honest with you, I’m crying just typing that up.
See I lose all three of you to a new stage at the same time. I don’t get to hold one baby back while I release the next one. No, no, I have the best and the worst job. I get to send you off to spread your wings all at the same time. While that brings me tremendous joy, it also makes me sad that you’re growing up so fast. You are so much of my heart, a bigger heart than I even knew possible, and it breaks just a bit when you’re able to step further away on your own.
But I would never stop this. Because I believe this is all a working out of His big plan. I’m so honored to just play a role. I am confident of this, He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it. (Phil 1:6)
I know God is working your life verses into the fabric of what you learn and understand, and I know this kindergarten year will stitch even more of it into the fabric of your lives. My loving, diligent eldest, you will win favor when you trust God with all your heart. My passionate, artistic only girl, as you know His love more, He will do beyond what you could ever fathom in your life. My smart and emotional youngest, you will live a life worthy of Him as you grow in understanding and wisdom.
Have a great day my big boys and girl. Have a great year. You will have both successes and failures and each experience will form you into a stronger, more capable human. No matter whether your days or good or bad, I am always here. I love you. I will always love you. Thank you for making me a mommy.
All my love, to the moon and back,