My Prayer for 8th grade

So, this morning you were up before I was, which isn't saying much.


You were already dressed and had your backpack loaded, your lunch packed, your football gear ready for practice.


You don't need me for much, these days, it seems...


And I know that is how this motherhood thing is supposed to go.


I look at you, all 6'1" of you, and know that you're just on loan to me....


and that even though you're just an 8th grader, my days of protecting you are coming to an end.


After all, you're bigger than me and stronger than me and probably already smarter than me...


Or at least you like to think so.


But it's a big scary world out there and us mamas get scared a lot of times, too.


Scared that you won't make a good decision or scared that you'll get your heart broken or scared that you'll need counseling for fifty years to undo all of the damage we've done in the past thirteen or eighteen years.


I watch you walk in that middle school with tears in my eyes...

And I don't even consider myself a sentimental Mom.


Because it seems like yesterday you were crying and sitting in Ms. Judy's lap. Like yesterday you were playing in Ms. Nora's room and teasing her and Ms. Charlene.

And it seems like yesterday that I was walking in that building, and I remember those teenage years as being hard.


Young man, you'll face things that I can't imagine.


I hope that I've given  you enough.


I hope  that you've seen me live Jesus enough to know that He is always enough. That He is always good, and that His way is the best way.


I hope that you've learned grace and learned that there is good in everybody, and that it's your job to look for the good even when no one else does.


I hope that I've taught you that material things don't matter, even though I know we love material things. That it's not just about your appearance on the outside, but how you present yourself to others.


I hope that you remember that being mean is ugly and that we didn't raise you to be ugly.


I hope that you're inspired in the classroom and that you work hard, even when you don't want to, because hard work makes you be accomplished.


I hope that I've loved you and your Daddy has loved you and your grandparents have loved you enough that love is what you are.... that it comes  natural to  you.


I hope that you know to enjoy every day that you have, because before we know it you'll be going to work and sitting at your desk thinking of how your own baby is starting school and be a mess...


just like me.  Your mama, always one hot mess.


Here's praying 8th grade is the best year ever. That you'll grow in the grace and knowledge of Jesus as much as you grow in stature, and that you'll have favor with Him and with your teachers and with your peers. Here's hoping  that you laugh every day until your belly hurts about something, that you learn empathy and compassion and that you LIVE it, that you are you....


beautiful, growing up, you.


May you shine, my dear one.


And I'll just sit back and bask in it and remember just how blessed I am to be Caleb's mama.