Three weeks from today, students, we start the new school year. We do! I know that you probably have mixed feelings about that. Because summer's like that: it's the in-between moment of what your regular routine can be.
And I know that you're probably thinking that you don't really want to start back to the getting up in the morning, the books, the homework, the studying, and so on. Even the best parts aren't as good as the summer, are they? Because summer's like that: it lets you see the good stuff.
As excited as I am to see all of you again, to meet the new faces, to embark on this new journey with you, I get it. I get that you're not ready yet. I know. Because in a way, I'm not ready yet either.
I know because this summer, a friend of mine said, "She's from Kansas, but she doesn't look Kansas." And in that moment I wanted to laugh out loud, stick out my tongue and blow a raspberry, and either hug him tight or smack him hard. (For the record, I did none of the above.) Because in that moment, for the first time since I moved to North Carolina 10 years ago, I felt like this is home. I'm from Kansas, but I'm not a Kansan anymore. My home is here now, in North Carolina. So I know that you're not ready for school yet. Because summer's like that: you feel at home there. You have wanted to laugh a thousand times, hug a hundred times, smack a friend, roll your eyes, and smile. And you don't want that to end. Because your friends are there. The real ones. The ones that love you, even when you are yourself, and especially because you are yourself.
I know because this summer my youngest daughter went to the beach for the first time and as we walked her down the sandy beach towards the sea she bent over, picked up a broken shell and looked up and said to me, "Mama? What that?" "A shell," I replied. "OHHHH! A shell!" And then she proceeded to show every single person we met that day her shell. "Look!" she would insist, "This is a SHELL!" All. Day. Long. Because summer's like that: you look at the world with a little more wonder and awe because there's so much out there that you realize you haven't done and seen yet.
I know because in the back of my mind I wonder if next summer will be like this one. This summer I've had a chance to do so many things I don't get to during the school year. Take my daughters to the pool every day. Fill the kiddie pool in the backyard and splash them with a hose. Run in the mornings. But in the end no one can take that away from me. Because summer's like that: it'll always be there.
So, my amazing, beloved, students, I am praying for you these next three weeks. Hard. And often. I'm praying this for you:
I pray for you to find the good stuff this school year. I know that summer is full of in-between moments, the moments that you can sit and look back at and smile because you didn't have to plan it, it just happened. But the school year is full of in-between moments, too. I know it is because I've seen them. Our God is there, perfectly crafting the in-between moments to mark them in your memory, to shape your heart and your character this school year. Don't get so busy you forget to look for the in-betweens. Because that's where life and growth happen and if you're not ready, you could miss it. Find the good stuff.
I pray for you to find our school as your home for the next few months. A place where you belong. Because, my dearest student, you do. God has brought you to us, to this place. He knows perfectly what you need and where you are going. He knows the perfect plans he has for you, plans to prosper and not to harm you (Jeremiah 29:11 paraphrased a little). Trust Him. You won't be sorry.
I pray that you find and keep friends. I mean real friends. The ones that you call when you're having a meltdown and know that they'll talk you out of your misery because they know just how to make you laugh. The ones that know that if you don't sit next to them at lunch, it doesn't mean you don't love them. The ones that are brave enough to tell you when you've done the wrong thing, but love you just the same. The ones that are just as quick to hug you when you've done right. The ones that will pray for you. The ones that if you had to choose, you'd choose them all over again. This is the stuff life's made of. Because God never intended us to do life alone, and so He gave us each other to hug, to smack and to laugh with.
I pray that you wonder. A lot. Instead of looking at school as something you have to do, look at it as something you get to do. Instead of being afraid of what you're learning, conquer it. Instead of worrying about your grade, earn it. Instead of asking, "When am I ever going to use this?" ask "How is God going to let me use this?" And then, share it. Share what you know with others. It's like the shell. My two-year-old assumed no one else knew what a shell was, so she wanted to share the joy of her discovery with everyone. Make discoveries. Lots of them. And then share the excitement and joy with as many people as you can.
And most of all I pray that you find God here. Everyone's experience of God is just a little different. But the moments when He's there are inescapable. Find those. Ask Him for those when you pray. Be bold. Ask Him to change you. Ask Him for His plan for you. He might appear in a conversation, a look, a word, a walk across the parking lot, or in the lunch line. But I pray that you expect Him to be there, because if you expect Him to be there, to go before you, He will. Find God, my students. He will make all the difference. He's always there.
Because summer's like that: it'll always be there.
Can't wait to see you soon.
And I know that you're probably thinking that you don't really want to start back to the getting up in the morning, the books, the homework, the studying, and so on. Even the best parts aren't as good as the summer, are they? Because summer's like that: it lets you see the good stuff.
As excited as I am to see all of you again, to meet the new faces, to embark on this new journey with you, I get it. I get that you're not ready yet. I know. Because in a way, I'm not ready yet either.
I know because this summer, a friend of mine said, "She's from Kansas, but she doesn't look Kansas." And in that moment I wanted to laugh out loud, stick out my tongue and blow a raspberry, and either hug him tight or smack him hard. (For the record, I did none of the above.) Because in that moment, for the first time since I moved to North Carolina 10 years ago, I felt like this is home. I'm from Kansas, but I'm not a Kansan anymore. My home is here now, in North Carolina. So I know that you're not ready for school yet. Because summer's like that: you feel at home there. You have wanted to laugh a thousand times, hug a hundred times, smack a friend, roll your eyes, and smile. And you don't want that to end. Because your friends are there. The real ones. The ones that love you, even when you are yourself, and especially because you are yourself.
I know because this summer my youngest daughter went to the beach for the first time and as we walked her down the sandy beach towards the sea she bent over, picked up a broken shell and looked up and said to me, "Mama? What that?" "A shell," I replied. "OHHHH! A shell!" And then she proceeded to show every single person we met that day her shell. "Look!" she would insist, "This is a SHELL!" All. Day. Long. Because summer's like that: you look at the world with a little more wonder and awe because there's so much out there that you realize you haven't done and seen yet.
I know because in the back of my mind I wonder if next summer will be like this one. This summer I've had a chance to do so many things I don't get to during the school year. Take my daughters to the pool every day. Fill the kiddie pool in the backyard and splash them with a hose. Run in the mornings. But in the end no one can take that away from me. Because summer's like that: it'll always be there.
So, my amazing, beloved, students, I am praying for you these next three weeks. Hard. And often. I'm praying this for you:
I pray for you to find the good stuff this school year. I know that summer is full of in-between moments, the moments that you can sit and look back at and smile because you didn't have to plan it, it just happened. But the school year is full of in-between moments, too. I know it is because I've seen them. Our God is there, perfectly crafting the in-between moments to mark them in your memory, to shape your heart and your character this school year. Don't get so busy you forget to look for the in-betweens. Because that's where life and growth happen and if you're not ready, you could miss it. Find the good stuff.
I pray for you to find our school as your home for the next few months. A place where you belong. Because, my dearest student, you do. God has brought you to us, to this place. He knows perfectly what you need and where you are going. He knows the perfect plans he has for you, plans to prosper and not to harm you (Jeremiah 29:11 paraphrased a little). Trust Him. You won't be sorry.
I pray that you find and keep friends. I mean real friends. The ones that you call when you're having a meltdown and know that they'll talk you out of your misery because they know just how to make you laugh. The ones that know that if you don't sit next to them at lunch, it doesn't mean you don't love them. The ones that are brave enough to tell you when you've done the wrong thing, but love you just the same. The ones that are just as quick to hug you when you've done right. The ones that will pray for you. The ones that if you had to choose, you'd choose them all over again. This is the stuff life's made of. Because God never intended us to do life alone, and so He gave us each other to hug, to smack and to laugh with.
I pray that you wonder. A lot. Instead of looking at school as something you have to do, look at it as something you get to do. Instead of being afraid of what you're learning, conquer it. Instead of worrying about your grade, earn it. Instead of asking, "When am I ever going to use this?" ask "How is God going to let me use this?" And then, share it. Share what you know with others. It's like the shell. My two-year-old assumed no one else knew what a shell was, so she wanted to share the joy of her discovery with everyone. Make discoveries. Lots of them. And then share the excitement and joy with as many people as you can.
And most of all I pray that you find God here. Everyone's experience of God is just a little different. But the moments when He's there are inescapable. Find those. Ask Him for those when you pray. Be bold. Ask Him to change you. Ask Him for His plan for you. He might appear in a conversation, a look, a word, a walk across the parking lot, or in the lunch line. But I pray that you expect Him to be there, because if you expect Him to be there, to go before you, He will. Find God, my students. He will make all the difference. He's always there.
Because summer's like that: it'll always be there.
Can't wait to see you soon.
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