Wednesday brought it’s afternoon mommy-hurts over my son’s first school-teasing.

And for for whatever hurt I felt that day, Thursday’s feelings of praise & thanks far out weighed Wednesday. Only God can do that.

Thursday morning we awoke to tantrums. There was an utter and downright resistance to getting ready for school that resulted in tears, battle, red eyes, and tardiness. It was a hard way to start the day.

I walked my boy into class and as he told me he didn’t want me to go, I encouraged him,
“I love you, babe. Go sit with your class & I’ll see you this afternoon,” I whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek as I let go of his hand.

“Jesus, please be with my boy. Only YOU can be with him everywhere. Give him a moment only You can give him and human kindness,” I prayed as I walked somberly out the school doors.

I was heavy inside. I couldn’t find more words to pray although my heart stirred with more, but I hoped I had prayed enough and knew God fills my gaps.

I talked to my soul-sister, my bestie. She encouraged me as she always does and in ways only someone who shares the common denominator of believer can. She let me hear God’s voice through her & for that, I cried in my weakness and gratefulness for her and Him.

2:10 rolled around and I made my way to the bus circle to claim my blond package. He caught my eyes and made his way right for…not me…but his teacher. He put his arms around her waist and hugged her tightly. She turned to me with a thumbs up and said, “He had a good day.”

That lump in my throat crawled up, “Thank you, Jesus!”

My boy grabbed my hand and said, “Mommy, a girl said she likes my shoes.”

I shared the story with my bestie knowing she would celebrate the way that God took that hurt and redeemed it for both myself and my son, “Tell him it matters more what the ladies say about your shoes than the boys, buddy,” she said through her own simple tears of thanks.

And with that, I can firmly say Wednesday’s hurt had nothing on Thursday’s praise.