Dear Lexi Rae,

This was our last weekend before you start Kindergarten — the beginning of the next 13 years of your formal schooling before you will set off on your own. It feels significant. It is significant. Because even though it is “just” Kindergarten…it is truly the next chapter of your childhood.

I have thought about this milestone since the day you were born. And it looks nothing like I’d ever imagined.

For one, you are embarking on yet another “first” in your life without your twin sister by your side. Of course, I’ve known for a long time that this would be your reality…and mine. But at one time, I dreamed about all of the things you and your sister would get to do together. The bond you would have, the memories you would make and the lives you would build for yourselves side-by-side. Hand-in-hand. Built-in best friends. It is something I will mourn for you your entire life. Emmy’s absence does not [and will not ever] take away from any significant moment, memory or achievement in your life or make those things “less than” for you. Her absence just…is. It is our reality. It is something all of us have to navigate – on our own and as a family – and it looks different than I had once imagined.

Then, of course, there is that other little thing that has changed the way this year looks for you…for all of us. You are starting Kindergarten in the midst of a global pandemic. The Coronavirus has changed our lives in ways that you probably won’t even remember. You won’t remember the weeks our family spent at home this past spring in social isolation to protect you and your pregnant mama. You won’t remember finishing out your last year of preschool via online learning. You either won’t remember having to wear a mask in public places, or it will be commonplace in your life. You won’t remember the stress and fear families faced trying to decide if their children should attend school in person in the fall of 2020. Or if a parent would have to quit their job to stay home and facilitate virtual learning. You won’t remember sanitizing your hands after every. little. thing. Or the shortage of common household goods and cleaning supplies that exposed our culture of self-centered consumerism.

To be honest, I hope you don’t remember these things. I hope that your only recollection of the term COVID comes from the pictures you see or stories we tell you or the books you study in high school a decade from now. I hope this virus does not ever hit home for you in a way that is lasting, like the loss of a loved one. I hope + pray these things, sweet girl.

I pray for this and so much more as you take your next little step into this great big world. 

I pray for God’s protection over your heart and your health. I pray you are brave enough to be yourself, but kind to those who are different than you. I pray you are confident in who you are, but curious about the perspectives of others. I pray you give respect where it is due, but always within reason. I pray you look for the good in every person you meet and in each day you live. I pray that you ask for help when you need it and offer help when you see someone else in need. I pray that you continue to grow in your love for Jesus and your reliance on him. I pray that you will always know home is a safe place to land. I pray that you stand up for yourself, stand up for others, and stand up for what you know is right. I pray that you always, always remember you are KNOWN and LOVED just as you are.

A part of me is not ready for this next chapter. It makes me feel like I am a little less…in control. Like I can’t hold you quite as close or protect you quite as much as I have been able to the past 5 years. But the thing is…I was never in control in the first place. This is just the next step of God teaching me to rely a little more on Him and a little less on myself. So, sweet girl, I will be fervently in prayer for you. Not only this week as we face these new big things together…but for the rest of my life and for each new chapter and challenge you face.

Love you more,

Your Mama