The smells, the sounds, they are all familiar. Wet leaves crunching under shoes, sticking to sneakers, it is damp and colorful and cooler, sometimes cooler, and Fall. I love it; I have always loved it.
It is probably the hardest part for me about homeschooling. I love the idea of a new beginning. I love shopping for new school clothes, the smell of new notebooks and new pencils. Everything is new. I looked forward to it, and I still miss it sometimes.
I worry that maybe they are missing something. And through children in love with summer, content with three shirts and shorts, continuing to sleep in and enjoy the summer that seems to last longer in the south, I am learning to appreciate the joy of not-new. The joy of just being content in the now.
AND I still have some new. I still look forward to the start of new things - the start of AWANA, which was a hit this year, thankfully; the start of new moms groups; the start of new routine; the start of actual routine. That is what I need. Routine.
BUT sometimes the new does not fit, like my son's size three pants that he insists on wearing - the kind that do not quite reach his ankles. They are not quite as comfortable because he grew. I grew. How I longed to have a new to meet with other moms, studying God's Word together. But it did not quite fit because I changed. I grew. I am different. And I am not quite as comfortable. And I feel weird. And sometimes I want to be in size three pants, to be back to how it was when it was so comfortable. But I am not. I am different. And I have no idea how to fit in.
I remember talking with some friends about the need for brokenness. And I waited on it with anxious anticipation, eager for a work to be done in me. I looked forward to growing, to not fitting in the same place. I looked forward to the new. And they thought I was insane. They feared it. But I looked forward to it because I knew I am a work in progress. But that was when I knew who I thought God wanted me to be.
Who I wanted to be was not who God wanted me to be. It WAS who God wanted me to be that made me not fit. The changes, they were gradual. But I grew, sometimes in pain, sometimes without even knowing it. But I changed. In brokenness, I became more of who God called me to be. And I am not done. Not now.
But I am not so sure about the new now.
It was more comfortable before the new.
It was more comfortable being three. I love when my son talks about doing everything when he is five. Apparently he might change the world when he is five if all his dreams and hopes of five come true. But then comes the reality of five - OR even four, where he is. Then comes the reality that there is responsibility with age; responsibility that was not there when he was three; the reality that he has changed; that he has grown. And sometimes it is a lot easier to not be five. Three is a lot easier.
New looks a lot different. There was something familiar about the new before. It was new, but familiar. THIS, this is new but unfamiliar. BUT this is new where God has called me.
A new Creation.