Hope for Back to School

All this week, as parents across the Northeast have been doing, I've been prepping my kids to get back in the routine of going to bed earlier, so that they can be refreshed for school. Last night, we got back into the groove: dinner, bath, book, uniforms out, lights out, pray. They prayed.

Then, I prayed. And prayed. And prayed.

There are levels of back to school preparation. There's the school supplies and clothes or uniforms. There's the mental preparation of getting the kids out of the summer mindset and into the school mindset. There's the mental preparation for parents of separating from your child, if they're young, or worrying about their academic and social success, if they're older.

Then there's the other worry that American parents carry. The level of worry we shouldn't have to think about.

My kids go to Catholic school, I went to Catholic school, and until the tragedy in Minneapolis, I'm not going to lie, I thought I was immune from the gun violence at schools.

Of course, I take every precaution by sending them somewhere with locked and secured doors, who do all the precautions, and have emergency systems, but something in my subconscious still felt like it was more of a public school problem.

It's an American problem, and a significant one at that.

We realize as parents that we can't protect our children from all danger and the scary realities of this world, but we do our best. We want to wrap them in a safety we can't always guarantee and control what we simply cannot control. But beyond doing my best to ask the school questions and frame it in the right way for the boys, I have hope.

What Hope Looks Like

Hope doesn't deny reality. It doesn't pretend bad things don't happen. Hope looks directly at a broken world and says, "This isn't the end of the story."

Hope looks like teachers who show up every day knowing the risks but believing in the future sitting in their classrooms.

Hope looks like children who still raise their hands, still laugh at lunch, still dream about what they want to be when they grow up.

Hope looks like parents who send their children with love notes tucked in lunchboxes - small reminders that no matter what happens, they are seen, they are loved, they have promise.

Hope trusts that the parents all across this country who have experienced the unimaginable will fight, will speak up, and will find that their work to change things will produce a better world.

The resilience children have, we can learn from. We can take lessons from them in repeating themselves until they get what they want, demanding that what's theirs should stay in their possession and no one has the right to take it from them, believing that they can do anything and someone is there to protect them and give them more.

Repeat, demand, believe.

What We Can Give Them

We can't promise them a world without risk. But we can send them with something stronger than our worry - we can send them with hope they can touch all day long.

Children are resilient in ways that still surprise us. They find joy in puddles after storms. They make friends in lunch lines. They bounce back from hard days faster than we think possible. They carry hope naturally - not because their world is perfect, but because hope is woven into who they are.

Your child walking through those school doors tomorrow? They're proof that hope is real. That beautiful things emerge even in uncertain times. That love finds a way to grow even when everything around it feels fragile.

Hope They Can Carry

When you pray for your children, pray out loud and in front of them. Let them hear what you're asking God for them and for their future.

Let them hear and soak in what you believe about faith and hope, about God and them. Acknowledge that the world is going through a lot right now, but they can rest in the hands of the Person who controls the world. They can sleep, and rise, and walk into school with power to dream and power to hope.

Remind them: I carry hope with me. I am loved. I am protected by something bigger than fear.

Today, Tomorrow and Every Day After

When you send them to school, remember, you're not sending them into darkness. You're sending light into the world.

Living, breathing proof that hope is stronger than fear. That love is more powerful than violence. That the future is still worth fighting for.

We cannot promise them safety. But we can show them that hope is real. And sometimes, hope is the very thing that keeps us safe.

Ready to send your children with hope they can feel? Shop the "Proof of Hope" hoodie and download your free "Sending Them with Hope" lunchbox notes.

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note on lowercase styling:

you may notice that “God” and “Jesus” appear in lowercase throughout the site. this isn’t a sign of irreverence—it’s simply a design default. the lowercase aesthetic reflects the tone and visual style of the omi brand, not the weight of the One being referenced. trust—His name is still above every name, and that’s honored here. (philippians 2:9)