Getting Ready for School, God's Way

Every August it happens the same way. The supply lists start circulating. The calendars get pulled back out. And somewhere in the middle of pencils and planners, I feel it — that low hum of anxiety that has nothing to do with school and everything to do with control. Will this year go well? Will I be enough for these students? Will I have the energy for it?

I used to think getting ready for school meant getting the *externals* right. New folders. A fresh routine. A color-coded schedule taped to the wall. And those things matter — I'm not knocking a good folder. But somewhere along the way, teaching from my living room, watching faces on a screen instead of across a desk, God kept nudging me toward a different kind of readiness. Not the kind you can buy at Target. The kind you can only receive.

It starts, of all places, with sleep.

*"It is vain for you to rise up early, to sit up late, to eat the bread of sorrows; for so He gives His beloved sleep."* — Psalm 127:2

I read that verse for years without letting it touch me. I was the queen of rising early and staying up late, convinced that exhaustion was proof of devotion — to my students, to my family, to God Himself. But sleep isn't a reward you earn after you've handled everything. It's a gift He gives while you're still in the middle of not having it handled. Lying down at night, unfinished lesson plans and all, is its own small act of faith. It says: *I am not the one holding this together. You are.*

So before I ever sit back down to my lessons in August, I try to get this part right first. Rest. Real rest, not collapse. The kind that trusts God with tomorrow's to-do list because He was already awake managing it before I was.

Then there's the heart-work, which is slower and less list-able. Preparing to teach — or to send a child off to be taught — isn't just logistics. It's surrender. *"And these words which I command you today shall be in your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children"* (Deuteronomy 6:6–7). Before the lesson gets taught, the heart gets shaped. Mine first.

I still catch myself trying to white-knuckle my way into a good school year — more prep, more planning, more control. But Jesus didn't say, *Come to me, and I will help you plan flawlessly.* He said, *"Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest"* (Matthew 11:28). Not after the year starts going well. Now. Before the first day. In the middle of the mess of getting ready.

So this year, my prep list looks a little different. Sleep, unapologetically. A few quiet minutes to hand the coming year to God before I hand it to a lesson plan. And the reminder — for myself and for every parent bracing for the first day — that being ready doesn't mean having it all figured out. It means being rested enough, and surrendered enough, to walk into whatever this year holds with Him.

The pencils can wait for that.