Two Weeks Late…

Today Elijah and Cora had their first day of school…almost two weeks after all the other kids in their class. Excitedly they put on their new clothes, carried their new backpacks full of school supplies and new lunch boxes full of enviable snacks. Cheesy grins and tilted heads came out for the obligatory “first-day-of-school” picture, and then we were off.

“I’m kind of nervous.” 

The closer we got to the school, the more they shared about their fears relating to a new school, new teachers, and new friends.

“What if nobody likes me?”

“What’s my teacher’s name again?”

“When will you pick us up?”

Escorted by the school secretary, we dropped off Eli first, barely saying goodbye before she whisked us off to Cora’s class. Looking back his eyes were Charlie Brown-ish in their wide-eyed anxiety. I waved again, to reassure him, and hurried to catch up.

Cora giggled her way through introductions and instructions on where to place her lunch and backpack. She too looked fearful, but covered it up with giddy energy. Once again I’m sending a baby off to school, feeling the slight give as she pulls a step away from me.

I wanted to yank her back, hold her in my arms and run with her to Eli. The amount of change and transition they have experienced in the last few months has been overwhelming. Instead, I walked away, smiling a reassuring smile; my heart tap danced inside my chest.

Calling Josh, we talked about how nervous we each were for them, while at the same time reassuring one another that they would be fine.

And they were.

Six hours later I picked them up; they non-stop chattered about playing Lava Monster at recess, learning to write lowercase “l,” and how they saw each other at lunch.

So begins another school year…





And off we go…

Today marks a transition in the Brotherton household.

Our firstborn started Kindergarten.

We were calculating last night, and this means that for the next 18 years we will have a child going off to school every morning. From now until I’m 48 there will be homework, school lunches and early mornings — because we all know it goes until your child graduates from high school, no matter how responsible they think they are.

I did not cry.

Shocked awake by the alarm this morning, I rolled over and saw my 6-year-old son grinning like the Cheshier Cat.

“Is it time to get up and get ready for school?!”

I so remember that feeling. The anticipation of a new school year, the fun of new clothes and school supplies, the energy pulsing though your body that won’t let you sleep.

By 6:45 Eli was dressed and sitting on the couch. Wearing. His. Backpack.

Because mommy needed caffeine it was his first day, we got a small treat at Starbucks.

Then it was off to the elementary school.

Now it’s not just Eli’s first day. This is my first day as a school-age mom. So forgive me if I had a little trouble getting it all right. I’ll do better next time.

We took the obligatory “first day” picture and then marched off to the classroom.

Eli learned the morning check-in routine…

…and then was off to play on the playground.

And I didn’t cry.


Transition. Change. Growth. Maturity.

Baby boy — too tall now for footie pajamas, feet dangling as we carry him to bed. This week he heads off into the great unknown of Kindergarten. Release being forced, as hands want to grip tight.

Hold on, you’re moving too fast.

Just pause for a second longer.

His impatience to be independent reminds me so much of myself.

Turning instead to One who holds us both.


Students return to college campus, a place that is now behind us. A completion that sometimes felt impossible.

Yet he returns there as a leader; a college-age ministry in a way we never foresaw. Is ministry only in the church or is it possible to impact the lives of those you supervise?

Can he be a pastor without having the title?


A decision looms on the horizon for me. A change in my life I don’t know that I’m ready for.






A quiver full that are now poised for flight. My life has consisted of growing, birthing, nourishing and nurturing children and now I’m looking to put a stop to it.

Regardless of the fact that one thing has nothing to do with the other, my friends who want so desperately to conceive do not leave my mind; it turns my stomach. I pray for peace, yet have none.

For now I’m waiting on the Lord.


Yesterday I felt a change in the air.

I felt Fall.

The season is turning…

There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven –

A time to give birth and a time to die;

A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted.

A time to kill and a time to heal;

A time to tear down and a time to build up.

A time to weep and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn and a time to dance.

A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;

A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing.

A time to search and a time to give up as lost;

A time to keep and a time to throw away.

A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;

A time to be silent and a time to speak.

A time to love and a time to hate;

A time for war and a time for peace. Ecclesiastes 3:1-8