Recently our family celebrated some new milestones.
Our daughter received her acceptance letter from the college of her choice! That same week, senior caps and gowns arrived. Yesterday we picked up senior pictures. We’re still in the process of sending out scholarship applications.
And on and on it goes.
Ahh.
While thrilling, these milestones have left me breathless and a little bleary-eyed. It’s surreal to think our baby bird will soon fly the nest, off to make her mark in the world just as her brother did.
If you’re a newsletter subscriber, I shared a little more with you in my March update.
From a mama’s perspective, this is a time of mixed blessings.
I’m excited for our daughter, but not ready to think beyond her last day of high school.
When our son went to college, it was a time of transition, too. He was our firstborn. He was the first to leave home.
He was the child who’d battled a life-threatening illness and won.
It was hard to see him go—knowing he’d faced so much, and yet, that milestone seemed easier in some ways. My mama-heart clenched, but for different reasons.
I grieved over those lost years of his youth—long, tortuous days polluted by illness and suffering. Years we’d never get back, but not a waste in God’s eyes.
No, God saw the bigger picture and knew the outcome. Where we once questioned the possibility of a future, let alone college, God cleared a way and crafted a miracle.
It didn’t happen the way we planned, dreamed, or hoped. God’s way is rarely like that. Instead, He moved beyond the fringes of the finite and far surpassed our wildest expectations.
So, while we grieved the age-old rite of passage—high school graduation—we rejoiced over the fact, too. Our son—the kid whose life was once ruled by sickness, hospitals, and surgeries—would attend college! Not only that—with hope as an option, our mindsets shifted to new possibilities.
We mourned the old, but welcomed the new. The gift of opportunity.
This time—as another milestone approaches, the last of this type—I’m summoning courage of a new sort. I’m embracing opportunity and reframing the word.
When it’s your last child—your youngest—you do that.
To insulate our hearts, we focus through a new lens. We consider the past. We honor the present. We cling to the future—buoyed by the lifesaver called faith.
I know it’ll be okay.
She’ll be okay.
I’ll be okay.
And I’ll still shed a few tears.
‘Cause that’s what even faith-filled mamas do.
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Pass-Along Pick-Me-Ups
Consider milestones as rites of passage. And be buoyed by this.
Facing a tough transition? Relax. You’ll make it.
Baby birds and mamas’ hearts. When your high school graduate flies the nest.
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Additional Thoughts You May Enjoy
Hope: 2o Reasons to Throw Open Your Windows
What Tennis Teaches Us About Perseverance
Original Image Credit: Hans/Pixabay
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May you have a hope-fueled day and a faith-filled week!
Much Love and Many Blessings,
Comments 2
From one faith-filled mama to another, you’re right. It’ll be okay. Better than okay. 🙂
Author
Julia, thank you! Needed that! 🙂