Tables Turned

I glanced over as she was driving.
My youngest daughter was behind the wheel singing along with her music.
Some grocery bags were in the back seat.
We were on the turnpike heading back to her college.

It seems like only yesterday when we took this drive for the first time.
When in reality an entire year has passed.
This time she was driving the car that will stay with her at school.
This time my husband followed about fifteen minutes behind with the minivan.

I glanced at the young woman beside me.
There has been so much growth in a year.
She is confident in the love of her Lord and her family.
She left special friends at home to reconnect with special friends at school.

She continued to sing.

A mother remembers all the little steps along the way.
Her sisters came over the night before she left and we all had a girls night.
We laughed and reminisced and lovingly teased her about the little girl she once was.
Remember your overalls and the twistie you always wore in your hair?

I remember.

I remember the little girl who rode a purple bike with pink streamers.
The little girl who would ride around the neighborhood and visit her favorite dogs.
Those same families employed her years later to pet sit for them.
I remember the little girl who loved to imagine.

She would go across the street to the tree line in our neighbor’s yard.
With their permission, she played there among the rocks and the tall trees.
She can still point to the rock where she cooked meals for her pretend family.
I felt so grown up and so far away from home but I could look up and see our house.

The same little girl who never wanted to stay for the credits after a movie.
The little girl who loved to watch Little Bear and cuddle together and read books.
The little girl who loved to draw, color, paint, and do anything creative.
The little girl who loved dressing paper dolls.

That little girl is now a young woman.
Her creativity now manifests itself in photography, calligraphy, and design.
The young woman singing next to me plays the piano, the ukulele, and sings beautifully.
This young woman will always be my little girl.

We arrived on campus and stopped in the two offices she needed to go to first.
I waited while she ran in and got her key and her folder.
The folder that held all the information she will need for her new position.
This year she will be an RA, a resident assistant.

She will have forty girls under her care.
She is the one who will get them acclimated to college life.
She is on the front lines, the go-to person, the helper, and that necessary someone older.
She has walked where they are now walking.

Hard to believe.
Only one year ago.
I remember my daughter’s RA reaching out to her towards the end of the summer.
I remember my daughter’s RA stopping by to meet her as we moved her into her room.

Forty girls are under her care.
They will be blessed by her.
She will be blessed by them.
She designed nametags for their doors, following a theme she has set for the floor.

She has designed posters for the hallway with her lovely calligraphy.
Posters with Bible verses, song lyrics, and inspirational quotations.
She put so much love and attention into all of her handmade designs.
She even wood-burned, Welcome Home, on a large oval-shaped piece of wood.

Welcome Home.
She asked me what I thought about that since it isn’t really home.
But we are here for nine months out of the year.
I do want the girls to feel comfortable here.

I glanced over at my daughter and was amazed.
Amazed that the tables turned so quickly.
She was driving me towards her nine-months-out-of-the-year home.
She was the one who would now have people under her care.

She is the young woman who will be out of her teen years very soon.
I thought of the baton passing from me to her and from her to the girls on her floor.
The same floor she was on last year as a freshman.
The same floor but in a new room with Resident Assistant on her door.

Tables are supposed to turn.
She waited many times in a store as I talked to someone I knew.
Now I wait as she talks to this friend or that.
I marvel at the passage of time.

So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God. Do not cause anyone to stumble, whether Jews, Greeks, or the church of God – even as I try to please everybody in every way. For I am not seeking my own good but the good of many, so that they may be saved. Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.
(1 Corinthians 10:31-33; 11:1)

My daughter has her work cut out for her.
I know because I had my work cut out for me.
In fact, any of us, who have people in our care, have our work cut out for us.
We are being followed.

It is not a sinister following.
It is not the kind of following that makes us feel uncomfortable.
It is a type of watching, a process of mentoring, and a “do as I do, do as I say” example.
It is daunting without the Lord.

When we are called to be a leader, we must also be a follower.
Not a follower of our peers or the culture.
Rather a follower of the One who went before us.
The One who went before us perfectly.

The Lord Jesus.
Any of us who are leaders better be following closely behind Him.
Those under our care are beginning to walk where we have once walked.
Our footsteps better be walking on righteous paths.

Perfection is not something we should ever strive towards.
Holiness is our goal.
The girls will follow my daughter’s example as she follows Christ.
Following Christ, my daughter has the perfect model.

Leaders must also be good followers.
Leaders must be good Christ-followers.
Then there is never any doubt about the way to go.
The Way is a Person and that Person is Jesus.

Follow Him.

2 responses to “Tables Turned”

1. love this Gina

   Reply

   • I’m so glad, Jen.
     It is bittersweet to me as well.
     Gina

     Reply