HOME TOUR

We’ve got transitions coming. You know, the kind that make you take a deep breath and stare in wonderment. And it has kind of snuck up on us, while at the same time, been a long time coming. We’ve seen this looming there ahead like those mountains you see in the distance and think, “oh gosh, while I’ll just worry about that when we get there.” But you forget how fast you’re traveling on this road and then you’re there, once again, at the foot of something you dare not climb.

I haven’t had to think about Cade being “different,” for lack of a better description, because he’s my every day reality, swinging in the trees all monkey-like, digging in the dirt pile called our backyard and asking his zillion questions…just your normal 3.5 year old stuff. But now I need to think of him in the context of schoolhood and that makes my heart beat quicker. My little one. Away from me. On his own. Dare I say…vulnerable. Because I’ve been there for every park visit, seen every curious glance and hedged off unwanted conversations.

Turns out I’m a Houdini of sorts at spying the first sign of impending danger and getting the heck out of dodge and now I surrender that. And that’s a bit frightening. He’s little. And the world, well, it scars now doesn’t it? Oh but to hold him far from danger for a bit longer. We all know that momma heart desire. That is love. To take the pain away, carry the weight, lighten the load. But we don’t get anywhere without a bit of hard work, we don’t grow without pain. And his heart is growing. Knowing how valuable pain is, we still try to avoid it at all costs–those hard things. Rubber meets the road things.

Sweet Caedmon James is starting preschool in two weeks and it has my momma heart all fluttery. If you’ve walked this journey with us from the very beginning you know we’ve come a long way, if you’re new to the story, welcome!  This is my spot for momma heart moments: the transforming, the not-so-lovely and the frankly, amusing. But more than that-it’s Cade’s story.

I think for the last couple years we’ve just gotten use to our own version of life and for the most part, haven’t had to deal with questions, comments or stares because, well, everyone knows our story. Knows him and loves him. But we’re about to enter a new part of the journey, a part where momma bear isn’t invited and Cade takes over. New people. New chances at friendships and the curious pursuit of knowledge. He will clearly be guided by our words and actions but he will be ultimately interacting with teachers, helpers and kiddos without me around to buffer a conversation. Turns out that doesn’t thrill me.

This raising up so you can let go. I’ve never been good at it. And here we find ourselves, realizing we need to get on our game about what we need to say–say to parents, say to teachers, say to kiddos. That’s like needing to figure out how to talk in different languages. And it has me almost exhausted from the thinking about it.

The one thing I’ve been absolutely sure about from the beginning is that people feed off your confidence or lack there of. We know that “different” is a place of insecurity for people and they look to you for firm footing. And that’s ok. That’s human nature to be weary of the unsure. But how are we going to tackle this?

(Enter the sound of crickets).

Haha! Just kidding. We have a few ideas. For one Cade is going to a Christian preschool so that makes the dialogue a bit easier for us. We don’t need to hedge what we say in order to be appropriate for our surroundings. Cade knows that he is a gift. That his life is meaningful and he was created for a purpose–to ultimately bring God glory. We plan on at some point (and with Cade’s permission) hopefully showing his classmates how his leggies work. Matt doesn’t want to do it on the first day because he doesn’t want Cade to be a “spectacle”. I want to do it sooner rather than later because I want it to become a non-issue and you can’t really accomplish that until the curiosity is met.

He’s carefree and sweet. Strong and agile, a bucketful of questions and curiosity. I can’t believe we’re here at the place of starting school. I know every parent sits there and scratches their head. “Where did the time go” they all say. No but seriously, where did the time go?

Matt and I have been watching old videos. They have a way of transporting you to a different time and place. A time when you realize how insecure you were which reminds you of the refining aspect of time and where grace has brought you. Cade is a gift. Always has been. But when they told me something was wrong it felt so far from a gift. I remember my mind catapulting forward in those dark moments–how was he going to go to school? What were other kids going to say?

Well, sweet friends, my smily ball of sweetness is going to school with a striped blue and white backpack with a happy digger on it. There’s his name, written is sunshine yellow just like his heart. And we’re going to be ok. If it’s anything like VBS this summer it will be a doozy and I’ll be needing a glass of wine at 11:30 am but isn’t that life? The exhausting and exhilarating all mingled together to bring us to the foot of grace where we see how little control we have and how loved we must be.

“Being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” –Phillipians 1:6