A couple weeks ago I attended the very last preschool program I will ever attend for my children.\u00a0 Come August, I will send my daughter, the youngest of my three children, off to kindergarten and a new chapter will begin.\u00a0 Although the imminent onset of a new journey is exciting and promising, the closing of this chapter is riddled with sentiment and sadness.\u00a0 And as I sat watching my five year old sing silly songs and tender ballads, I found myself grieving much more than her last preschool program.\u00a0 I found myself grieving all the lasts that I\u2019ve inadvertently missed along the way.\u00a0 It\u2019s a funny thing about lasts.\u00a0 They\u2019re so easy to miss.\u00a0 This is not at all the case with firsts.\u00a0 Most of the firsts my children experienced were well documented and celebrated.\u00a0 Their first tooth is tucked safely away in a keepsake box.\u00a0 Their first words are written in scrapbooks and recalled regularly. \u00a0First steps, first days of school, first dances and first friends have all been acknowledged and recorded.\u00a0 But the lasts?\u00a0 They have been sorely overlooked and tonight I long to revisit them.\u00a0 I don\u2019t recall the last time my 12 year old called me mommy or when he lost his last tooth.\u00a0 I don\u2019t remember the last time my 10 year old let me hold him on the couch or hold his hand as we walked. And I couldn\u2019t tell you the day my daughter stopped mispronouncing her brother\u2019s name or decided she no longer needed me to catch her on the slide. \u00a0I wish I did.\u00a0 I would give a great deal to know those moments and give them the farewell they deserved.\u00a0 But the truth is, you just don\u2019t see the lasts coming.\u00a0 How do you know when you send your child out the door one morning that it will be the last time he or she comes running back to give you a hug?\u00a0 How could you ever anticipate the last flower they will pick for you or silly picture they will draw?\u00a0 And who would ever be able to predict the last night you read your child a bedtime story?\u00a0 All these things are milestones and rites of passage I would have liked to record or at least recognize.<\/p>\n
As I look back, however, I am deeply grateful for that wonderful group of servants who have shared with our family so many of the firsts and lasts.\u00a0 Teachers.\u00a0 They are really a remarkable group.\u00a0 They are the markers of time and our children\u2019s biggest fans.\u00a0 Each year they equip, encourage and raise up a group of children and love them despite the reality that their time with them is measured and short.\u00a0 They love them as their own and do so, not because of obligation or necessity, but because of passion.\u00a0 I have never once met a teacher who is in it for glory, notoriety or financial gain.\u00a0 Every teacher I have met teaches for the love of it.\u00a0 And more importantly, for the love of the children she shares his or her day with.<\/p>\n
In Matthew 18:5, Jesus says, \u201cWhoever receives one such child in my name receives me\u2026\u201d\u00a0 I wonder sometimes, if Jesus had teachers in mind when he spoke those words.\u00a0 Frankly, I believe it is the heart and soul of a teachers calling.\u00a0 They feel a tug on their hearts to become the physical hands and feet of Christ and they lovingly give themselves over to the mission.\u00a0 They humbly add brushstrokes to a great masterpiece they may never see completed.\u00a0 They gracefully weave beautiful threads into the tapestries of our children knowing full well they will not witness the finished work.<\/p>\n
I cannot accurately convey my appreciation for my children\u2019s teachers.\u00a0 A simple thank you seems wholly inadequate.\u00a0 I am profoundly grateful for the unconditional love they display; for their commitment to receive each child that comes their way; for their sacrificial willingness to be Christ to the children around them; and for their unwavering dedication to celebrate the firsts, the lasts, and each remarkable moment in between.<\/p>\n