I hope you were either showered with love and appreciation for Mother’s Day, or did the showering. I had a wonderful weekend, other than missing our firstborn. But we got to have lunch with him yesterday and snag this scenic pic.
I’ve been pondering this season of motherhood when he is away at college. It struck me that it is a lot like the first season of mothering. The growth is so rapid. We brought Baby Dub home — my mother gave him that nickname in the hospital because she so despised my plan of calling him Wills — and right away there were a few bumps. That perfect looking baby with the mop of blonde hair literally started twitching on the ride home. It was disconcerting to say the least, and he continued to do it for months. Even with neurological tests they never figured out why. He also turned highlighter yellow from being so jaundiced. I stupidly thought he might just have my yellow-toned skin. Nope, that wasn’t it.
Yet ten months later he was walking, saying a word or two, and feeding himself cheerios. The rate of growth is mind boggling.
In a not dissimilar way, the last ten-ish months have also been a season of tremendous growth. On August 11th, as he and I rode together to Knoxville, we deleted him from Life360. He wouldn’t have access to my credit card. I wouldn’t have access to his driving speed or whereabouts. And there were bumps. He was quarantined four separate times. The first quarantine was imposed within 24 hours of arrival. He’d worked hard to be in shape for the start of his college swimming career and instead he spent his first ten days of college in his dorm room.
This spring he happened to rub his eyes one time when we were FaceTiming.
“Have you been taking your allergy medicine?” I asked, innocently.
“MOTHER!” he said. I understood. He had this. He grocery shopped and cleaned and studied and missed two weeks of class to travel with the swim team during championship season. In ten short months he learned to juggle it all, and keep his academic scholarship.
Then this morning he swam such a fast 200 freestyle at an Atlanta meet that he qualified to go to the Olympic Trials next month in Omaha.
If I let myself, I could sob just as hard as I did when we dropped him off in August — but these would happy, proud tears, instead of devastated ones grieving the end of a beloved era.
A person’s steps are directed by the Lord. How then can anyone understand their own way?Proverbs 20:24 NIV
We can try to control our lives or the lives of other people, but the truth is our steps are directed by the Lord. The key is to trust His good, pleasing and perfect plan when you encounter trials like a twitching newborn and when that baby grows up and goes to Olympic Trials.