“Mom, can you help me find the picture of me in my pink princess dress?” I knew the exact dress Tori was speaking of. It was the one I purchased for her first Halloween over 18 years ago. She was preparing for her final week of high school.
By the time this post is published, Tori, our fourth and last child living at home will have graduated from high school. She has accomplished so much. We are celebrating with her as she begins her last summer before starting college in August.
A couple of weeks ago, I shared with my friend the anticipation I feel about leaving our only daughter at college. I am already imagining what it will be like to return home to an empty house, to learn how to flow in and out of my days in unexpected rhythms. Some moments I feel like wrapping her in my arms tightly and holding her close to my heart and home forever. And there are also sandpaper moments, the ones that happen when two adults with two perspectives rub up against each other in differing opinions and needs. These are the moments that affirm her uniqueness and independence. These are the moments that are messy.
Yes, I feel the tugs on my heartstrings, preparing me for the time when I will release and bless our sweet girl. Is she ready? Am I? What about my failures? Did I laugh with her enough? Questions in the midst of my ambivalence threaten to steal the glory of what is happening in this season. Our daughter is transforming into a stunning glory.
My daughter’s graduation has invited me to reflect on my own experiences as a young adult. Though I have a diploma and my memories are still blurry, I know that the death of my mother and the abandonment I experienced resulted in a confused faith, shattered dreams, and a deep longing for a mother’s blessing. But now I see the ways that Jesus has come for my heart and resurrected Hope in my story. There is nothing better to bury worry than by placing it under the weight of gratitude.
On the night of Tori’s graduation, she called to me once more, “Mom? Are you ready? You wouldn’t have a bigger cap around would you?” I laughed. She walked out of her room, smiling in her full length blue gown. My breath caught at the sight of her. “Look at you sweet girl! You are graduating from high school. I am SO proud of you!” What a sight she was. She attached her tassel. I stretched and straightened her cap and she placed it on her head.
It was another moment etched on my heart. My own ache had opened a space to bless my daughter with the worlds I longed to hear from my own mom. How could it be that Jesus had used the loss that once devastated my own heart to bless and nourish my daughter’s? Redemption is painful and sweet all at the same time.
My sweet girl is blossoming, and as she does, so am I.
She will have her dreams. She will have her needs. She will have her longings. And I will to. As she prepares to depart, I will feel my way through this season and take it one day at a time. I will trust that Jesus will come for her heart as He comes for mine in unexpected moments, with gentle reminders of His truth: I am with her always and I am with you always.
My friend who walked with me into the weighty anticipation of my heart was a reminder of God’s faithful presence with me. Over chicken salad and potato chips, I dipped my toe in the water of hope. “I don’t know how I will be after I leave her at college. I imagine it will be hard and my heart will need care.”
“Well,” she stated. “You can’t go straight home after you leave her, you know. On your way back, you can drive to my house and I will prepare something wonderful for us to drink…”
I really don’t know how she finished her sentence, because I was already thanking God for His provision through her gracious heart. If I had to guess how He would finish her sentence, it would be these words: You can come to My house and I will have something wonderful to drink with My ears to listen and My heart wide open.
Sounds like Jesus to me. I am grateful.
Ellen Oelsen lives in the Texas Hill Country with her husband of 26 years. She is a mother of 4 children and loves their 2 dogs and 1 cat. Her hobbies include cooking, nature, reading, plays, and two stepping. She delights in offering hospitality of the heart and creating spaces of care, rest, play and reflection to inspire hope. She is beginning to expose the writer within her.
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Ellen, thank you for your words this morning. This sentence, “There is nothing better to bury worry than to place it under the weight of gratitude” hit me with power, conviction and comfort. In this season of my husband’s failing health, I can produce many words of worry that only take me deeper into fear for my future. Your words invite me to give thanks with a grateful heart for Jesus’ faithfulness to come for me. It is a life-giving reminder I will carry with me today and remind myself of in days to come. Thank you.
Christine – My heart is touched with compassion for you and your husband as his health is failing and I imagine the words you speak are straight from your tender heart. It is good to hear my words provided you a life-giving reminder of Jesus’ faithfulness and I pray more and more life-giving reminders for your heart daily as you live into this season. Thank you for reading my words, Christine.
As you bless your daughter, I hear you blessing your young self. Such a paradox! These words I will hold, today: I will feel my way through this season and take it one day at a time.
Thank you for reading my words and yes, there are many blessings for me and my daughter as this season unfolds. I am grateful. Holding hope and sharing your heart for ‘feeling this season one day at a time’!
Wonderfully written! Yes, it will be different when you and VO are alone in your home and Tori will be different when she returns. Somehow God will continue to fold you all back together in ways that will be glorious and you’ll grow to,love the differences even more than you can imagine💗MJ
Thanks Mary Jane! Your words are encouraging and hope filled as always. Looking forward to experiencing the glorious ways God will fold us back together … I love that! So grateful!
“Questions in the midst of my ambivalence threaten to steal the glory of what is happening in this season. Our daughter is transforming into a stunning glory.” Thank you for naming this, as often I find myself in the midst of questions rather than just in the moment of glory. Blessings as you anticipate this new leg of your journey.
Thank you Julie for reading my words and your kind sentiment. I join you in the desire to embrace glorious moments, even in the midst of questions! Blessings to you as well.
Oh, this was so sweet, Ellen! Y’all have done such a great job with your children. They’ve all excelled! It’s hard when the nest is empty, and I think it’s harder with a daughter, too. You did a great job of conveying all of your different emotions. I felt each one! I share them, too. I have a vivid memory of Grant in his car seat in front of the tv at Scott’s house. He was the first of all of our babies. And now they’ve all grown up!
Thank you Michelle. Love connecting with you here and am grateful to share this season (and emotions) with you. Oh my – what a sweet memory! I too have many memories of you, Scott and all of our kids and yes – they have all grown up. So thankful we can share our hearts and our families in spaces such as this and I am grateful for your presence. Hopeful we get to seize some of the ’empty’ and fill it with some fun with you and Scott!!! Love to you all!
Ellen, I am right there with you with the graduation of my son, and I love hearing another mother express the journey of her own heart in this tender terrain. It helps me know I’m not alone with all of these big emotions and deep thoughts. I adore your friend’s response when you mentioned dropping Tori off at college. What a dear friend – present, insightful, and nurturing! I love how she reflects the gracious heart of Jesus and you name that. Beautiful. May your summer with Tori abound in good times and sweet memories!!!