This one is quickly headed to the high school finish line. She only has two years left and I’m already thinking of all the ways I could try to keep her.
I tend to avoid thinking about hard or painful things until I have to. Often, hard and painful things only get dealt with by fore. I put them off as long as I can and if that could be forever then I’m totally good with that. That’s not really true because I know that’s not healthy but that’s my typical modus operandi. I’m simply not a huge fan of pain.
It didn’t surprise me when I woke up at 2:45am the morning of her first day of 11th grade, worrying about my last baby going off to her big ol’ high school. My mind wandered to all of the things I can’t protect her from while she’s there. All of the things I can’t protect her from. Bomb threats, fire scares, drug busts, weapons on campus… you know, all those things that HAVE happened in her school.
And then there’s the deep-seated fear of a terrorist attack on her school, or any school for that matter. I vividly remember 9/11 and fighting the fierce urge to go scoop up all my babies from the classrooms they sat in and hold them close to me for forever.
On the morning of 9/11, God reminded me that my children are not mine to begin with. He had to remind me in the wee hours again this morning.
Andrea, you can’t protect her, but I can. I’m really much better at that anyway, you know. You can’t keep her, but I will. ~God
Then I began thinking of all the good in her and all the good she will share. The light she will shine on her peers. The fun she will have. The stories she will come home with. Her wings need to be strengthened and strength comes from working it out.
She has always been our social butterfly. When she could barely hold herself up on her unsteady toddler legs, she would stand near the end of our driveway and wave at cars going by. When she could barely walk, she would wobble over to stop and say “hi” to people sitting on benches in our mall. A moving target or a still target – it didn’t matter to her. People were (and still are) her target. She loves people and craves being with them. She loves making them smile. She loves sharing her heart with them. She loves encouraging them.
She’s been in small schools and home school but for such a time as this, I’m not surprised at all that God has placed her in a very large school. She belongs there. It’s her mission field.
She needs to be there.
They need her there.
I would be selfish to keep her.
To my baby girl, I’ve done this a few times before with your siblings, but today it’s all fresh and new because it’s you and it’s this year and it’s different. I send you off with an anxious heart but a heart that knows God has you in His wings. I can’t protect you but I know He will. And He’s way better at it than I am.
I love you so much, but I can’t keep you. The truth is, I love you too much to keep you.
Go fly. (safely please!!)
Like a bird protecting its young, God will cover you with His feathers, will protect you under His great wings; His faithfulness will form a shield around you, a rock-solid wall to protect you. Psalm 91:4 (The Voice)