Mourning the moment when

My baby girl has reached the tender age of five and will begin kindergarten at our small neighborhood school this upcoming Thursday morning. Predictably, I have been in pre-emptive mourning about this tragic day for weeks. Nay, months. Even years? My tender heart and the content of my character results in me being ill-equipped to embrace this leg of the journey of my sweet little girl's life. Because as this new kindergarten era dawns, the first chapter of her life decidely closes.

And that hurts. My heart weeps for the bittersweet reality: that her first day of kindergarten is also her last day of carefree, school-free, unscheduled, brilliant, sunshiney, preschool childhood days. Where others may see a "first" happening this week, my heart sees a "last".

And I am inconsolably sad. The brave smile, comforting words, and joyfulness I plan to display out of sheer love for my beloved Miss Sauce on this fateful upcoming Thursday morning will be hollow at best. Because the ache in my soul began the day I first knew my child was growing in my belly. And it will remain long after the bell rings to mark the end of her first day in kindergarten. It will remain until the moment I draw my last breath on this earth. I am her mother. She is my precious child. I love her to the moon. And back again.

But standing with her at this juncture in her life causes me such a deeply painful ache. I pine inside for the moments that have already become a "last" in my little girl's life. And I pray to be allowed the continued priviledge of sharing a lifetime's more. Hopefully one day I will rejoice for her *firsts* without the inevitable lamenting of the *lasts*.

Karen Kingbury's book, "Rejoice" includes this eloquent and heartfelt poem, written to her son on the eve of his wedding:

"Long ago you came to me,
a miracle of firsts.

First smiles and teeth and baby steps,
a sunbeam on the burst.

But one day you will move away and leave to me your past,
And I will be left thinking of a lifetime of your lasts.

The last time that you ran to me, still small enough to hold,
Last time when you said you'd marry me when you grew old…

Precious, simple moments and bright flashes from the past,
Would I have held you longer if I'd known they were the lasts?

I watched you grow and never noticed seasons as they passed.
I wish I could've frozen time, to hold on to your lasts.

For come tomorrow morning life will never be the same…Would I have held on longer… if I had known they were your lasts?"

Lord, please help me find joy, peace, calm, and bravery amidst the pain, longing, uncertainty, and loss clattering around inside my heart. Please help me find shelter in your promises and lead my daughter into the next chapter of her life with strength I borrow from you.

Please help me do this. Amen.