As I type, my eldest offspring is approximately three hours into his first church camp experience. Last night as we prepared, I wasn’t sure we’d even get to this point today. As we were packing, he kept looking up at me with his huge, dreamy, brown eyes, and sympathetically saying things like, “I’m just growing up so fast, huh, Mom?”. (He said it with a slight smirk on his face, so there’s a chance he would have liked to elicit a few tears, you know, just to know he’s still got it). He’s still got it.
Since he’s our first born, all of our “firsts” have been with him. We muddle our way through all these milestones together like war buddies, the three of us, me, him, and his dad. This was no exception. Here’s a little peek into last night’s 10pm conversation with said dad….
Hubby: “He seems way too excited, I hope he can sleep tonight.”
Me: “Yeah, I’m 99% sure I could be that mom tomorrow at drop off. You know, the one who’s crying uncontrollably, and muttering things about my baby and how he really has grown up so fast.”
Hubby: “You’ll be fine, he’ll be fine. He has to spread his wings.”
Me: “I know, I know. I just don’t know if I’m ready for him and those wings of his.”
(Spoiler: I handled drop off like a boss, not even a quivering chin was involved.)
(Full disclosure: Camp is less than 48 hours. Two days, one night. Just didn’t want visions of a month-long absence across the country to bring on unmerited sympathy.)
But here’s the thing…I could hold on really tight, and keep my little
bird son so close to the nest that he never even learns use his wings. In the short term that may keep me very comfortable and very in control. I would always know where he was, and I could account for every moment of safety and protection. But in the end, I would be rendering his wings useless.
Comfort and control are my issues, not his. So every day I will intentionally choose to trust God with my son. I will choose to let go, when I want to squeeze too tight. Ten years from now, I’d rather my son know how to fully rely on his Heavenly Father than on an earthly mama who just couldn’t bear to let him go.
I know that when I look back years from now, I will be so glad I got over myself and let him fly. Sure, he’s going to stumble, maybe even crash-land a time or two. We all do. But, I never want to stand in the way of his big adventure. That’s what I told him today as I kissed him goodbye. Have a great, big adventure, hon. We’ll be waiting here for you when you get back.
What big adventure are you thankful no one held you back from?