Just Like That

Just like that…they are leaving my nest again and returning to their college campuses. 

I sit here crying.

Some sad tears, because I will miss their lively banter and laughter filling this home. I will miss the deep discussions about the book he has just read as he enlightens me on authors and their history. I will miss him taking over my office desk to work on his newest graphic design creation. I will miss the giggles and watching Netflix shows with her while she sporadically shares about her new friends and her plans for her future. Shockingly, I’ll even miss making three meals a day and the endless cycles of laundry and dishes.

Some happy tears because I am just so stinking proud of who they are at their core and how they are navigating their lives into adulthood.

Some grief tears, because I want their dad here to witness it all and cheer them on in person. Although without his loss, they would be entirely different individuals. We all would. It is a grief that is so intimately woven within us; a loss that shattered us so devastatingly completely that there was no choice but to rebuild the pieces in a new way. So yes, I am sad for all that was lost and yet simultaneously happy for how we have chosen to survive and move forward.

We are approaching the eight year anniversary of their daddy’s relocation to heaven and I’d love to say the pain and missing have lessened; but that would be an untruth.  In some ways, the missing is heightened for them as they launch into societies where their father was never known. The ache never goes away. The grief lives inside each of us. We don’t need a date on a calendar to realize who is gone or how long they have been away; it exists within us every moment of every day. And yet eight years out, I personally still experience physical effects of the grief around special dates.

Gone too soon. By my standards. But my standards are not God’s. God is sovereign and Tim lived out every one of the days appointed to him on this earth. I want to scream, “this isn’t how their lives should be!” and yet, this is exactly how their lives were meant to play out according to the plan of their heavenly Father.  His sovereignty is a tough thing to grasp. He knows all. He works all things together for good and for His glory for those who love Him. He didn’t create cancer; He is the author of life. He didn’t design for broken families, but He is with us in our brokenness. My mind swirls with the struggles to understand it all.

That is where faith fills the gaps within all the cracks of my life. Faith tells me that no matter what lies ahead, God is already there. He has already prepared a path for me. He knew my entire life story before my creation. He knew theirs as well. He is at work within them, healing, and guiding. I rest in that truth. I leave these precious children at the foot of the cross where Jesus paid it all. Surrendering to His plans for each of us. Loving the gift of this front row seat in the lives of our children.

Go do good things, kiddos. Share yourselves and kindness with the world. You are loved beyond your wildest imagination and prayed over both on earth and in the heavens above.