The Gossamer Thread

He pulled up the driveway, waving as he went.
He was home for his sister’s graduation.
Now he was heading back to Virginia to continue studying for the bar exam.
He graduated law school and headed right back to the books.

A little of my heart went with him.

He left the other day with his clothes in the back of his car.
His guitar and a bag of favorite snacks were neatly packed.
He would begin his new job only a few weeks after his college graduation.
He is now a youth pastor and will be greatly used to teach young people about Jesus.

A little of my heart went with him.

My oldest daughters have their own apartment.
They are both established: one a web designer, the other a teacher.
Close by, but not at home any longer.
Godly women making a difference for the Kingdom.

A little of my heart went with them.

My youngest daughter is still at home.
She leaves for college in the fall.
Ready to be on her own with the gossamer thread that still attaches her to home.
Seeing the world through a camera lens and capturing God’s beauty all around her.

A little of my heart will go with her.

No one ever told me.
If they did, I didn’t listen.
Pieces of my heart strewn here and there.
Little did I know.

A mother spends her time saying goodbye.

I watched a young mother with her little toddler at my daughter’s high school graduation.
Bleachers are not the best place to sit with a toddler.
This mother wisely got up and carried her daughter down the stairs.
I lost sight of them for a few minutes.

Suddenly I saw them, across the football field, on the other side of the stadium.
The little toddler was walking ahead of her mother.
She walked with confidence, swinging her arms wildly at her side.
She would occasionally turn to look at her mother.

She waved a big wave and walked on.
She would go a little further, turn, wave her big wave and walk on.
I smiled at the scene.
My heart lurched just a little bit.

This young mother has no idea.
This is the beginning of goodbye.
The beginning of the wave that takes them to the next phase of their life.
The looking back to make sure you’re still there, yet walking on.

The way God planned.
It doesn’t make it any easier.

I spend my life saying goodbye.
Our house seems to have a revolving door.
I truly enjoy it; who’s home and when.
But that lurch in your heart; that motherly pain when the calendar is not your friend.

How much wisdom could have been imparted to me but I never heard.
Enjoy it. They grow up so fast.
That was cliche, the niceties that someone says when they don’t know what to say.
How wrong I was!

They knew.
They tried to tell me.
I couldn’t hear them.
I knew better.

Mothers have all experienced the wave.
The “I am big enough to walk by myself” wave.
The “I can ride a two-wheeler” smile.
The “I’m off to kindergarten” look.

It’s like one of those retractable leashes.
You let a little bit out and then a little more.
All the while holding to the other end.
Little did they know that their independence was tethered to your heartstring.

Little did you know.
A tearing away that has to happen, but it still hurts.
That young mother had no idea.
A seasoned mother knows.

May the Lord keep watch between you and me when we are away from each other.
(Genesis 31:49)

May the Lord keep watch.
That is the only way the goodbye is even possible.
It is in the knowing that the Lord never takes His eye off that child for a moment.
They are never out of His care.

They turn around, the wave may be for you, but it is never for Him.
Even if they turn from Him, He is still there.
He is ready to welcome the prodigal home.
He is ready to run over the hill to greet the one who is returning.

That gossamer thread will hold just fine.
God is holding the other end.
The leaving has to happen so another generation of wavers and goodbye say-ers are born.
The leaving has to happen so His Kingdom in this world expands.

God knows it is not easy.
He had to turn away from His own Son just when Jesus needed Him most.
He could not look on the sin that was placed on Jesus.
He turned away from Jesus’ wave.

Turned away from Jesus’ wave so we would never feel such rejection.
A bit of the Father’s heart was torn as He watched His Son die on that cross.
Jesus died so we could live.
Pieces of His heart strewn here and there.

Because of Jesus, I can wave.
I can let go.
I can most assuredly know that my child, who is not a child, is in good hands.

And a little of my heart goes with them.