In the midst of change, it seems like the new things will never feel normal. Until one day, you barely remember what life was like before. The day we brought the twins home from the hospital there wasn’t a grown up in sight. Except us, of course. Would it ever feel normal to be the mom?

Now here we are, five years later, with three weeks of kindergarten behind us.

The days of lazy weekday mornings and mid-day picnics on the lawn have already become fuzzy remember-whens. I’m desperate to know the new details, but I’m learning that asking how their day went generally gets me nowhere. Instead, I have to simply be, exist alongside, and listen. In their midst, little bits spill out and take shape and I catch myself trying to fit them together to make a complete day-story.

I can never quite fill in all the gaps, so instead I trust anew in the One who is writing their part in a bigger story. I’m also learning to stand up in the empty room of this new normal and find my place in it. Any words from you who have already painted the walls and picked out the furniture would be well-received here.