As I went in to the school early this week to take care of some stuff, I was hit with a weird sensation. This year is our 10th year at Rhema. Sammy will be graduating from grade 8 this year. I had some heart palpation happening. My oldest son, yet a baby all the same. He was the one to teach me the first of everything. He was the reason I walked into Rhema unannounced one day and I loved what I saw.

This year will be about a bunch of last times for Sammy. I loved that all the boys were under one roof all day. High school… it is kind of a ugly word, kind of a scary word. It brings to mind gawkiness, girls and zits. OK I am not even going to go there, yet.

8th grade. I remember my 8th grade graduation. I remember my dress and that was the occasion for my first pair of heels… wedge heels. I feel teary already.

I want this year to be wonderful for Sammy. He has great teachers. I want him to feel good and have a great last year at Rhema, a great last year of being in elementary school. I am not sure I am ready for this.

Welcome to the 8th grade, Sammy! May it be awesome.

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