As You Go

I remember well the day you were born. Maybe it’s unusual, but at each moment when I’ve received a child into my arms to nurture and raise, I’ve thought of their leaving. A still, soft voice has reminded me of a truth which we mothers are so prone to forget: the entire purpose of the season of this child living under my roof is to give him wings to fly.

Your childhood is behind you now, and, like a newly emerged butterfly, your wings have dried and been stretched and carefully tested against the winds.

And today you take flight.

I know college is a microcosm, not quite The Great Big World. But it’s a step— your first— and my goodness, it feels huge. To both of us. You feel it just as surely as I do. It’s your first truly independent grand adventure. I know its terrifying and exhilarating. I also know it is God’s will being worked out in your life, that no matter how scary or hard it is to say goodbye, it is the absolute right thing to do.

We’ve worked hard to get to this day, you and I. Homeschooling you has been a pleasure. An honor. You are a hard worker, a young man with the sort of work ethic that brings glory to the name of the God you have dedicated your life to serving. I threw a heavy load at you; I saw your potential and pushed maybe a bit more than other mothers might have. You never disappointed, and it was the highlight of many a day for me to engage in discussions on literature and art and science with someone as passionate and well-versed as you. There were hard days along the way, of course. But you’re the kind of person who learns from his mistakes and rises to challenges. Your academic achievements reflect your ability to set goals and strive to meet them.

You’re on to the next set of goals.

You’ll wake up tomorrow in a room that’s foreign. You’ll awkwardly try not to wake the roommate you’ve known less than 24 hours as you gather your things to head to breakfast— because if I know you, I know 6:30 will come and your eyes will pop open, college student or no. You’ll read a book somewhere until the cafeteria opens, then you’ll stand in line for food and ponder whether the scrambled eggs will be too soft, or if the French toast will be too wet in the middle. You’ll skip the coffee. You will scan for friendly faces. You’ll wonder if you will always feel this way, oddly disconnected, newly unsure of yourself.

And these are just the first hours of the first day.

 

I could tell you that I won’t cry tomorrow morning when there’s no you saying, “Morning, Momma!” and giving me a hug in the kitchen, but you and I both know I’m a crier. I’ve already explained that I’ll cry at least twenty times today as we drive towards the school, and then again as we drive away. Our morning here at home will be the same as always, but without you here. People often think that just because we have many faces around the table, the absence of one is easily missed. They are wrong.

Right now, as I type this, you are reading aloud to your older sister. I had planned to end this with a list of things I want to be sure you know as you wake up tomorrow, but then, hearing your voice, I knew that nothing I could say could measure up to the words you are sharing from Isaiah 43:

But now, thus says the Lord, your Creator, O Jacob,
And He who formed you, O Israel,
“Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by name; you are Mine!
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And through the rivers, they will not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched,
Nor will the flame burn you.
“For I am the Lord your God,
The Holy One of Israel, your Savior;
I have given Egypt as your ransom,
Cush and Seba in your place.
“Since you are precious in My sight,
Since you are honored and I love you,
I will give other men in your place and other peoples in exchange for your life.
“Do not fear, for I am with you;
I will bring your offspring from the east,
And gather you from the west.
“I will say to the north, ‘Give them up!’
And to the south, ‘Do not hold them back.’
Bring My sons from afar
And My daughters from the ends of the earth,
Everyone who is called by My name,
And whom I have created for My glory,
Whom I have formed, even whom I have made.” 

 

So go. Do not fear. Remember that you have been redeemed and called by the Name of the Most High God. Remember that you are precious.

And remember that you are loved. By the Lord, and by your Momma.

 

 

If you want to keep up with Mathaus, you can subscribe to his YouTube channel. Here’s his first college video, with the promise of more to come.