The Night Before School – 2021

Well… we’re one hour into the first day of school and I’m nowhere close to sleeping.

Something isn’t right. I’ve cried and cried while watching SISTER ACT 2 and JUMANJI (the one with the Rock, not Robin Williams.)

This is the first time in Sophia’s life I won’t be in school. I’m crushed. Broken. Lost in in a seemingly endless darkness. Unneeded. Unnecessary. Bitter and generally not fit to be around.

Whatever. There is nothing to be said. Monday ain’t about Jeffrey.

The wave of first-day pictures and new haircuts is imminent.

Freshly-sharpened Ticonderoga #2’s have been replaced with school-issued Chromebooks and mechanical pencils.

We’ve written on the car windows. Lunch notes are folded and tucked where they will be inevitably discovered.

New outfits are hanging on the bedroom doors and the new shoes are laced.

Vikki and I are PTA members at Vienna and Meadowlark.

Alarms are set and new face masks are beside the door.

What’s left?

God.

G.O.D.

Guard On Duty?

Good Old Dad?

Greatest Of Designers?

I don’t know. I’m honestly not feeling like an “All the way with Yahweh” cheerleader. I feel done with the universe and I don’t like it.

The night before school begins has always been, for me, like the night before Christmas. Full of excitement and wonder with unbridled joy and enthusiasm for the next adventure. Not tonight.

Might as well get to what matters…

God, look after Sophia and Miles. Look after all the children.

The teachers.

The assistants.

The custodians.

The secretaries.

The administrators.

The coaches.

The counselors.

The cafeteria folks.

The maintenance brigade.

The bus drivers.

The crossing guards.

I need-want-hope-ask-pray-and-plead for each of these people to have the best school year of their lives.

It’s selfish. I want them to be at their best so they can give their best effort while teaching and leading Sophia and Miles.

Lord, keep stupid people away from our children.

Remind the world that perfection is impossible.

Send kindness and grace through the school doors.

Prevent our children from chasing friendships that are unhealthy, unfair and unlasting.

Put the worry on me. I’ll carry that cross.

Shut the doors on mean-spirited, inequitable, unforgiving hearts.

Fill their days with patience and wisdom and joy.

Their school schedules are somewhere here on the desk, but I can’t find them. If I could, I’d call each teacher by name. Perhaps later today…

God, fill the fifth grade at Vienna Elementary with unseen angels and keep my boy safe.

Surround the sixth grade at Meadowlark Middle with warriors cloaked in the armour of Heaven and keep my girl safe.

May Sophia and Miles be twice as good as their father and half as good as their mama.

Amen.