What my son wrote hit me on so many levels. Initially I felt like I had been exposed and sucker-punched. And quickly following that was the strong sense of heartbrokenness. And then pride and gratitude rushed over me like a wave.

Arriving early on a Thursday morning, the kindly man took on a fearsome gaze as he surveyed the hillside. It was defensible, but not unbreakable. His men would need additional protection if they were to survive what would come.

I cursed the bad cell coverage as I desperately willed 1980's worship music to load on Spotify.

It is that time of year. For many of us, we are putting our kids back on the school bus and entrusting them to other adults for the majority of their day. Those who homeschool are starting to shift their daily routines. Regardless, change is upon families with school aged children.