“They” say that women are so overwhelmed with love for their baby that they forget the pain of childbirth.

Y’all, that’s a lie.

I did it three times and I remember quite well: it hurt, it hurt, it hurt! However, time and perspective and both physical and emotional healing do help. If not serving to erase the memory of the pain, they help to put the pain in its proper context and to help you understand the greater purpose of it.

In much the same way, the last two school days have been epic. My kindergartener, who has cried every school day for the last 7 months or so, hasn’t cried. He hasn’t even flashed me his massive sad puppy dog eyes. Not a hint of sadness, not a hint of feeling abandoned, just a regular old Kindergarten pro.

I don’t know what has changed.
I don’t know if it will stick.

I still remember how terrible the terrible days were. Two good days haven’t erased the memory of all the others. But in some way, they make the past two days even sweeter. It’s as if we’ve been tested in the fire and refined by it, instead of being burned alive.

Looking at my son, I wonder if this is how God must see me: his rebellious, blinded by my circumstances, worried about what I’ll wear and what I’ll eat, child with wavering faith. I have to imagine that, as he is love and patience and grace, he doesn’t sigh or groan at seeing my lack of faith and trust. I have to imagine that he simply rejoices on the days that I do get it. He doesn’t hold it over my head and ask, “Dude. Why couldn’t the last 3 months have been like this?” He simply says, “See? You’re okay. I’ve got you. I’ve always got you.”

There are just a handful of school days left for my boys. Only time will tell if we will have more good days or if there will be crocodile tears and arms around my legs and teachers intervening. Regardless, whether we make it to a “whole hand” of tear-free days or if these last two were just a fluke, I will praise God for them. I will remind my son of the good days. I will remind him that he was never abandoned or forgotten or alone. He was loved, cared for, and provided for. Those things weren’t only true on the days they felt true.

The only difference was that on some days, he rested.


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