08/24/2026
Somehow, we are here again.
Backpacks are ready. Shoes are by the door. And tomorrow morning, we’ll send pieces of our hearts back out into the world a little taller, a little older + a little more independent than they were when summer began. And if I’m honest, tears are falling as I write this. Summer doesn’t announce its lasts. You don’t know which slow morning, late-night giggle or ordinary afternoon together will be the one you wish you could have back. And then suddenly, you’re packing backpacks again.
These past couple of weeks at the shoppe, I’ve had so many sweet conversations with mamas (and dads and grandparents) carrying these same mixed emotions. Ready and not ready. Grateful and aching. Holding on while knowing we have to let go.
Surrender your kiddos. 🤎 Those words run deep for me. Having Zion face all he has through his heart journey, there have been moments when I have literally placed my child into someone else’s hands and watched them carry him away, having absolutely no control over what happened next during his open heart surgeries. Those were some of the moments I most vividly heard within my spirit: “They are His.” All four of them. They have been entrusted to me to love, nurture, guide + protect, but they were never mine to hold onto forever.
And maybe that’s one of the hardest, most beautiful parts of parenthood. We raise them to let them go.
Tomorrow is another little surrender. Another opportunity to witness God mold them, stretch them, grow them + nurture their hearts beyond the walls of our home. An opportunity for them to show love, notice the ones who need a friend, choose kindness, make mistakes, learn + become more of who they were created to be.
I’m sure many of you have all the same feels. Not wanting them to grow up too fast. Knowing that this is what we’re raising them for… to grow, to become, to build beautiful lives of their own. I just wish time would be a little gentler getting us there. But goodness, am I SO grateful I get to raise them toward it.
And to the teachers, educators, staff + caretakers receiving pieces of our hearts this year… thank you for seeing them, nurturing them + loving them in the moments we can’t. We’re so grateful you’re in their corner.
So to the ones staring at the backpacks tonight wishing you could slow it all down- me too, sweet friend. So take the pictures. Hug them a little tighter. Shed the tears. But take a breath. Pray and pour out your heart. And then surrender them again. Trust what you’ve poured into them. Trust the love they carry with them. Trust that there is beautiful work happening even when you cannot see it.
The hardest part of holding on this deeply is learning, little by little … to let go. They are His. And what an incredible privilege that we get to be their moms & dads 🤎
With love
From, Amanda
