Milestones

My son is graduating from high school tomorrow. It is a huge milestone, but there have been milestones all along. There was kindergarten, when I first had to learn to let him go and trust that others would treat him well, knowing that he would have to learn how manage and to make friends in a strange place where he knew no one. I had to trust that God would take care of him in my absence. We survived that together.

Then there was grade school graduation, when all we had known for the past eight years was about to change radically. We had lived in a safe comfortable cocoon and now we were facing high school where, once again, my son would have to learn how to manage in a new and different setting and make friends where he knew no one. I had to learn to trust again that others would treat him well, and I had to trust God would take care of him in my absence.

Then came the driver’s license. That meant trusting him to make good and safe decisions, to not speed and drive recklessly. And to trust that those he rode with would also be good drivers. The overnights, the dates, the road trips—I had to trust God would take of him in my absence.

Four years have flown by and now my son is leaving the familiar halls of high school. He is leaving behind good friends, great teachers and experiences that have shaped his teenaged years. He will soon be heading off to West Point where all he has known will change dramatically. Once again, he will have to learn how to manage in a strange place and make friends where he knows no one. He will be challenged in ways he has never experienced, and no matter how much he has tried to prepare, it will be difficult.

To say I have mixed emotions is to understate how I feel. I have pride in his achievements throughout his elementary and secondary schooling. He has worked hard and reached goals that reflect his God given gifts. But like at every milestone in his life, I harbor a mother’s anxious thoughts. Will he be safe? Will he find good and godly friends? Will those who exercise authority over him be mindful of his well being? To put it in basic mother terms: who will take care of my little boy, the one I hugged and kissed; the one who I held when he cried from a skinned knee; the one I applauded at school plays and at every Christmas program, every concert; the one I prayed with, and played with.

He is a man now, but although I understand that, there is the part of me that says he will always be my baby, the one I labored to bring into this world, the one who was and is a gift from God.

Throughout his formative years, his father and I have done our best to teach him faith, to lead him to the relationship with Jesus he needs for salvation. I know he has faith and that is a source of comfort and assurance. But my mother’s heart aches knowing he will soon be beyond my care and protection. People talk about the benefits of an empty nest, but right now it rings hollow.

The day will be here faster than I want it to when we watch him board the plane that will take him to West Point leaving us for longer than he has ever been gone, even adding up all his time away from home up to this point. It will be through tears that I hug him before he goes, tears mixed with pride for who he is and hope for who he will become. I will encourage him in his effort to follow where God is leading, even as I ache for his leaving home. And, once again I will have to trust God to take care of him in my absence. It will be a milestone for me as well.