Back to School

In many ways, this summer has seemed interminable. As a parent, I am running out of creativity, grasping at straws for ways to entertain my kids. On Tuesday, in a hazy moment of desperation, I bought a package of Oreos and let them scoop the centers out to make a giant frosting ball. Not my finest parenting moment.

And summer began abruptly this year. It began without good-byes or end-of-the-year parties or any trace of sentimentality. The beginning of summer was, in fact, largely overlooked. Overshadowed. Overwhelmed.

Three weeks in, we began, almost reluctantly (and guiltily) to do some of the more normal summer things: trips to the pool, afternoon drives for ice cream, a vacation to Branson with friends. Even though life was anything but. Normal, that is.

Because there is nothing normal about your kids "playing" tornado. Or asking people wherever they go if they can see their basement. Or their crawl space. Just in case. And normal is not a field of FEMA trailers outside of town. Or little ole' Joplin, Missouri making headlines on CNN. Or letting your kids consume the frosting from an entire package of Oreo cookies.

But there is also nothing normal about weekly church dinners for the volunteers (over 400 at last count) who we have housed on our campus all summer. Or the way strangers help strangers without thinking twice. Or the way people in this city have learned to live with a sense of purpose for serving others. Because those in need live in their backyard. And there is nothing normal about free backpacks and school supplies for all 7,000 students. Or hundreds of people working around the clock to make sure our children, all of our children, have a place to go to school next Wednesday. Not normal can be a good thing. It can be a great thing.

On Wednesday, I will have a first grader. And a new start. A new routine. And a new normal. Back to school means more this year than a few new outfits and a new teacher. Back to school in Joplin will be a return to something that was lost on May 22nd. I am sure that I am not alone when I say that I crave the day-to-day normalcy of school drop-off and pick-up, the monotony of making lunches, of signing and returning paperwork, and of driving my kids to their dance lessons or soccer practice. Though life as it was ended on May 22nd, all of these "normal" things are really symbols that life, though changed forever, does goes on.