Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Greetings from Cape Cod…

LORD my God, I called to you for help, and you healed me. Psalm 30:2

As you read this, I am likely sitting on a beach in Cape Cod. I have made my final escape of the summer before I return to full time employment in the classroom next week. More than a vacation, this trip is a necessity.



I feel the door closing on my Peter time, my Mom time, all over again with the beginning of this new phase. I lived the past 16 years as a mother, the past 8 months, a grieving mother. Next week the world will call me a first grade teacher. You know how society ticks. What you do defines you. Although always a mom, it’s no longer what I do and thus, the expediency of our culture will ignore it.



I know in truth this phase merely represents a pause in the eternal line of activity I share with my sons. This segment a mere wisp compared to the eternal length. But right now, I feel the distance.
Andrew would be 16 next week if he still walked in my presence. Over a decade of my life has missed him. I see his cousin, his closest friends, now tree like, climbing behind the wheel. The weight of time hurts right now.



I read a quote in Mary Beth Chapman’s Choosing to See. It said something like, to catch the sun you should not run west chasing after it. Rather, turn east, running into the darkness, to catch it as it rises on the other side. So that explains this trip. Our family vacationed on Cape Cod once with both boys before Andrew got sick, and then many more times with Peter. It became a favorite summer destination.



Mayflower Beach holds all my memories of Andrew. Peter’s dot the landscape of the entire Cape. A playground illustrated his growth in size and skills each year. There’s a windmill that Jeff remembers as a picture setting from his youngest days. We always took Peter’s picture there each visit, often at the last moment on our way home. Jeff’s aunt and uncle’s house will broadcast Peter’s memories almost as much as Skaket Beach, his favorite haunt. I hope revisiting these treasured places will lance the grief so wounds heal.




If I’ve learned anything the past few years, it’s be intentional. So I am.



I covet your prayers this week for my healing, next week for mental strength, and the final days of August for my 20 new precious souls. The opportunity of shaping their lives weighs heavy on my heart in light of my past decade. I long to teach and touch them inspired every moment by God himself.



I beg your grace as I transition, however. The process necessitates a break with the blog until the first of October. Over this next month please use those moments you would use to read my heart to lift me before the throne.

I will miss you, but promise to see you soon!

1 comment:

  1. Juli,

    I love, love, love the beach pictures of your beautiful boys ~ so full of life, fun and smiles. Bittersweet, I know.

    I am praying that you and Jeff have a wonderful, week, and that this trip brings you peace and some joy.

    Prayers also for a good school year. Kids and parents will love you, I'm sure, but going back to work is a big step. Take a really deep breath.

    I'll miss you on Tuesday mornings and look forward to you starting back up again!

    Prayers and love, Carol

    ReplyDelete