Britton found herself some 1980’s black, mesh netted, fingers cut out, punk gloves at the Country Dollar store recently. She had to have them. Cringe. I bit my lip, bought them, and thought for sure it would be a matter of time before she lost one. While, time has passed and wouldn’t you know it- the kid looses her shoes and bikini top at summer camp last week {walked off the bus from an all day field trip barefoot} but still has both her punk gloves.
And might I add, she likes to wear them everyday, everywhere. They scream Cyndi Lauper.
As we headed to Art Camp this afternoon, she was wearing her punk gloves- again. I suggested she might want to leave them in the car so they don’t get lost {code for ‘these rocker gloves are ridiculous, can’t you please leave them in the car just this once?’}.
Britton then stated, matter of fact, that she likes to wear her gloves because they help her make friends.
“Last week at camp, the first day I wasn’t wearing my gloves and I didn’t make a single friend.
The second day, I wore my gloves and I made lots of new friends.”
My heart melts immediately followed by a wave of guilt for even suggesting she leave her punk gloves in the car.
So of course, my baby hopped out of our SUV with her black, mesh gloves ready to rock them at Art Camp today.
Recently, Mr. R and I had to make the difficult decision to move our children to a different school this fall. We have loved the private school they have been attending, however we are trying to make wise financial choices today in order to ensure they can return to this particular school in the future (ie- middle school). Three times over and tuition can add up fast.
I have been trying to get the girls excited about this change- buying fancy school supplies, lots of back to school clothing shopping (no uniforms!), plotting the bus route for Britton (she has been asking for years to ride the bus), checking out the school website, driving by the new school, and setting up play dates with friends at the new school. 
It will definitely be a change for all of us, and to be honest probably more so me than anyone, as they have attended the same, and only, school I have ever known. I went there from K-12th, yep- my whole dang life, and have been active as a parent/alum as well over the past several years. Their “new” neighborhood school, which is only 1.9 miles from our house, will be great too, I know. Really, I am sure it will- it’s just a nerve racking with lots of changes on our family’s horizon– new school, new teachers, new baby, new schedules…

New, new, new.
Change, change, change.

The point isn’t really the school at all. It’s real issue is me learning to trust.
This whole thing has really forced me to practice what I preach- which is to trust in God.  Believe me, that can be easier said than done.
Each day, I have no choice but to trust that God knows what is best for our family, even if His plans aren’t going according to my plans.
His plans often far surpass our own.
“5 Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
And lean not on your own understanding;
6 In all your ways acknowledge Him,
And He shall direct your paths.”
-Proverbs 3:5 (KJV)
For a Type A personality like myself, that likes to have everything planned out- from grocery lists, to Christmas Cards in October, to when the dog gets her monthly heart worm pill, to large calendars marked a year in advance— I like to know what I’m doing, where I’m going, whose gonna be there, and when it will be. This is totally outside of the realm of my comfort zone and I can only pray that my girls will thrive in their new environment, as much as they have in their old.  
I know that their home (parents) and church (faith) environment primarily shapes who they are, and it doesn’t matter where they go to school. It can be here, there. or yonder. At the end of the day, they are who they are – confident, ‘I can do anything’ girls- and that’s not going to change. Period.
So every time I start to fret, and my eye begins to twitch, I have to literally try to remind myself to turn it over to God and let Him do the worrying for me. It’s like having a weight lifted off my shoulders when it works. Because in the scheme of things, in my mind, I know it’s small stuff.
The big stuff- you know, the real stuff- like my family, friends, their health, and this baby kicking inside me- well, that’s all good. Better than good, it’s fantastic. And frankly, His plan has already far surpassed any plan I might have had… so I chose to relinquish control, and this too, shall be the same I am certain.
Britton, meanwhile, will be wearing her black gloves on the first day of school just to be safe……

Lovely comments