When Something is Missing

It wasn't that long ago my firstborn was just cutting his first teeth.  At four months old, Wyatt awoke with four tiny points of white having broken through smooth gums during the night.  He thought it was funny, mommy rubbing her fingers inside his mouth and then going "ooh!" when she would find another jagged part.

Husband and I were excited and called to tell all the grandparents.  It's funny, silly how new parents get excited about things that are uncontrollable, are un-worked for.  But we felt the thrill of newness anyway.

Sunday after church, husband finally gave a final tug to set free one of those firsts.  My little boy suddenly yelled out my name with urgency while his feet pounded loud down the stairs.  One hand stuck a tissue to the now-bloody hole; the other held out the prize to me, more precious than silver.

It looked so much smaller lying in my hand than as part of a full set in the ever-present grin I've grown to love these five and a half years.

With one tooth missing, Wyatt has quickly made a list of things he can't do.  Right at the top is "can't easily chomp my favorite raw carrots."

I understand this concept.  When something is missing, sometimes it's difficult.

Friday morning, Wyatt will take his first bus-ride to join throngs of other children attending their first day of kindergarten.  He is ready to meet his new teacher in a new school room in a new school building.  I am excited for him...and scared to death for him and for myself--this is not a road I know how to walk. 

Most of my close friends are these awesome home school moms who are divinely inspired to train up their child without public education.  I do so respect their choice.  Unfortunately, I haven't yet felt God's call to do that with my own children.  In fact, I've felt just the opposite, that God expects me to send my little light out into the world now for a list of reasons He's made increasingly clear through prayer.

The past year has been extraordinarily difficult and I know my blogging has suffered from it, mainly because the emotions have often been too consuming, too raw, and too overwhelming to put into words.  I find it oppressive even tonight to just sit here and think, write, make sense of it all.

I have watched my friends swap home schooling tips and tricks, get together for these awesome field trips....all while I stand alone on the sidelines.  Even in the midst of great fellowship with them all, still, it's been a lonely year simply because I've been missing someone to go through it with me.

Over the past few months, God has blessed me with several ladies who have been in my shoes before, who have been a listening ear, a prayer warrior, and a helpful guide for me on this journey.

Yet, I have yet to find someone who understands in "real time" the agony of this choice, who can go through the stages of mourning, of separation anxiety alongside me.  I only have the "Yes, I remember...", not the "I feel this now along with you."

Even husband cannot relate.  He tries, but he just doesn't get it and can't even really pretend to.

This week when you pray, lift my name before the Father.  He can fill any missing part of our lives, I know for sure.  If it's not with someone else, then with Himself.