Open up the Sunroof

Yesterday I helped Hannah move back into her dorm, and it was a bittersweet day for me. On the one hand, I missed her before I even drove off campus. I enjoyed her company at home this summer, and I can say with a glad heart that she’s my friend, as well as my daughter. The house seems very quiet and still tonight.

But on the other hand, when I told her goodbye I knew I wouldn’t want it any other way. During the drive back to Abingdon I was thinking how much easier it was to leave her there this year, knowing she’s going to be just fine. I was pretty sure she’d be okay last year…but you’re never 100 percent sure, you know?

As I was heading south into the sunset on I-81, tired but thankful for the day, I opened my sunroof to get some fresh air. While I cruised along, deep in thought, I would occasionally smell something that would pull me into the moment. That’s just part of the fun of having a sunroof. Sometimes you get a wonderful fragrance, like freshly cut hay or wild honeysuckle. Other times it’s not so pleasant, like when a trucker burns up his brakes on a steep incline, or when I pass that chicken farm between Staunton and Harrisonburg on my way to visit Mom.

Either way, when the weather’s fine and you slide the sunroof open you experience the trip on an elevated sensory level. You become part of your surroundings, rather than just passing through them. And last night it occurred to me that living is like that, too. It’s easy to isolate myself and watch life pass through the windows. I may get to where I’m going, but I’ll miss so much along the way…

If I make the effort to be open to life though, I can experience everything God has for me, and never wonder what I might have missed. He may even prompt me to take a few detours I never would have been brave enough to explore on my own. And even if it rains in my sunroof, like it did the other night while we were celebrating Hannah’s birthday in Carrabba’s, I’ll count it as part of the journey. God is good, all the time.

But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. ~ 2 Corinthians 2:14 (NIV)

On the Brink

“This is the last stop on the “College Tour.” Last school…last child. It should be easier by now, but it doesn’t feel that way. And I know it won’t feel any easier in August, when she loads up her car with all that is precious to her so far in life…the tangible things, anyway.

“But there’s also a sense of satisfaction and pride that I have when I listen to the university administrators and professors. I know she’s up to the challenge, and I’m brought to tears when I consider how many possibilities, how many adventures, are ahead of her. Oh, to be 17 again and standing on the brink of my future!”

I wrote that a couple of weeks ago, when my daughter Hannah attended an Open House at Radford University. We were in a mock English classroom and it was a writing exercise, but for me it was a reality check.

We are in the homestretch of her senior year. Life is a flurry of decisions about college, prom, graduation…and I’m the facilitator. Please don’t misunderstand and think I’m central, or even necessary to the process. It will happen with or without my participation. For once it really is all about her right now. But my reality is that the last chick is getting ready to fly the coop, and for a parent this is one of those life events which, like a flash flood, leaves a wake of reflections and emotions after its passing.

It’s ironic to me that, while I’m trying to deal with all of this one day at a time, her life is taking a quantum leap into the future. What’s a mom to do? Well, like her brother, I know she was raised in the truth and that God has a marvelous plan for her life. So I’ll just trust and pray as I wait to see His plan unfold.

I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth. ~ 3 John 1:4 (NIV)