Monday, children across McCook stood still for one final inspection before heading out the door, putting summer sunshine behind them in lieu of chalk dust and the inimitable squeak of markers on a dry erase board.

New jeans, barely softened in the wash, chafed suntanned legs while shoes and socks entraped wiggly toes that had only the day before enjoyed the tickle of summer grass.

Of course, school starts so early in McCook, all of these summer pleasures still await the youngsters at the final bell, sufficient sunlight remaining to revisit, for a time, the memories of summer vacation.

Part of that final inspection no doubt included the massive backpacks filled with all of the necessary supplies needed for work in the classroom. I am constantly amazed by the sheer volume of supplies needed these days. A co-worker visited the local department store twice on Saturday, twice on Sunday and then again Monday evening, outfitting her three children. In my day, it was a lot simpler. I was required to bring two Big Chief tablets, two oversized pencils and Kleenex. I waited with great anticipation when my supply list would call for notebook paper and ball point pens. In the hierarchy of writing implements, pens are weightier than pencils, by virtue of their permanence. The night before school started would find me inspecting and re-inspecting my supplies, uncapping and trying each Bic pen for heft, fit and flow.

Those blank sheets of notebook paper represented a ream of new opportunities, the pens the medium by which those opportunities would bear fruit.

The first day of school was, to me, the first day of new opportunity, a new year before me, the old year far behind me, with summer as the dividing line. I loved it.

Soon enough, however, the edges of the paper would begin to show signs of wear, the careful organization that made so much sense in my mental meanderings fell quickly by the wayside as class assignments bypassed my ability to keep everything in a straight line.

Soon enough the brand new year would become just as much of a drudge as the interminable year that preceded it. By Halloween the newness had completely rubbed off. Some years, though, I'd get another shot at it. We moved a lot, so I had more than my share of first days.

I still love a new notebook, full of clean, white pages. And I still love a new pen with just the right grip and just the right flow. I am seldom without pen in hand today and I have notebooks everywhere, in my purse, on my desk at the office and on my desks at home.

Some of the notebooks have seen better days, and show the wear and tear of time so I take advantage of the back-to-school sales to get good bargains on my notebooks and pens, a quick, nostalgic trip down memory lane. I guess I still see opportunity in those clean white sheets of paper.

Only nowadays, that opportunity comes new each morning. I'm long since past the first day of school and the annual New Year celebrations -- the adult version of the first day of school, I suspect -- proved insufficient years ago for my life.

I can only handle one day at a time, to look at 365 of them lined up like little soldiers is simply too daunting. Those torn and tattered pages of yesteryear and those on my desk today, are mere representatives of my torn and tattered heart and spirit at the end of more days than I can count.

If not for the promises, how can any of us face another day in this dying culture, in this world where values are measured in dollar signs and position, where the enemy, successfully more often than not, breaks through to steal and to destroy?

All of those first days were good training for this stage of life. I've had a lot of firsts. First day of school, first day as a wife, first day as a mother, first day as a grandmother, first day of new life. I'm supposing there aren't too many firsts left. So, I relish the thought of each new day, knowing that each one brings me closer to my first glimpse of Jesus, face -to-face.

"Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness." Lamentations 3:21-23 (NIV)

Things you won't see in heaven: School supply lists