Let Go and Trust. . .

A few mornings ago I did something that I do every morning. I checked our hour by hour forecast on weather.com. It informed me that there was a high percentage of a chance that thunderstorms were on their way to our home. It predicted them to be here in the eleven o' clock hour. I tucked that piece of information into the back of my brain and went on with the morning. I did laundry, swept the floor, read a few books to a few little boys, etc.

Then, at 10:30 the boys and I took Rain out to do "his job." When I saw the sky, I couldn't help but remember the forecast. The sky was clear and blue ~ not a cloud in sight. It looked the way it has much of the past month ~ beautiful. I chuckled to myself, "No way, we are getting any rain today!"

By 11:30 there was thunder, lightning, and hard rain pouring down on our little country home. And, I stood at the window watching the raindrops hit the pond and cause great ripples. As I watched, I pondered it all, took it all in. And, I couldn't help choking back a tear or two as I considered the irony of the situation ~ so much like my life right now.

You see, my life is calm, clear, and cloudless at present. It is as it has been for quite some time. Three little boys all under my care all day every day. We are accustomed to each other. We know each other's likes and dislikes. We know how to take cues from one another ~ when JCT is getting tired, when Elijah is getting hungry, or when someone needs a little extra one on one attention. We know how to go and do. We have our very own organized little way of getting everyone inside the van and into their car seats, getting across the parking lot ~ who holds who's hands, how to get through an hour long trip to Wal-Mart, and how to get everyone neatly filed back into their car seats, groceries loaded and unloaded. We have it all down pat. We know what we are doing. It is comfortable, somewhat organized, and has become to some degree easy.

But, the forecast is calling for change.

And, though it seems that there is not a cloud in the sky. There are hints of change to come ~ contractions here and there, letters from Joshua's school announcing orientation day, and a long detailed school supply list. There is paperwork to fill out for JCT's preschool and pre-admission paperwork to fill out for the Women's Hospital. And, though I cannot yet see the clouds, I know that they are coming. . .

Now, I am not saying that change is bad. And, I am certainly not saying that having a new baby is a bad thing. Or, that Joshua starting kindergarten is a bad thing, or JCT starting preschool, for that matter. But, they all mean change from what is comfortable and familiar to what is new and unknown. They mean tears. Because I will cry, yes, I will cry. I will cry when I sit alone and hold my new little gift from God, and I will cry when I watch my firstborn walk away from the protection of my arms and into that big school building, backpack on his back and lunchbox in his hand.

Yes, I will cry.

You know how I know that I will cry? Because I am already breaking down from time to time, that is how I know. A couple of nights ago I let the dam break. Erik and I were sitting side by side on the couch talking. Well, to be honest, I was talking and he was listening as per our usual nightly routine. And, I let it go, completely. I held nothing back. I cried ~ mostly about Joshua starting kindergarten. Now I know that I am 35 weeks pregnant and highly emotional right now, but still it will be a huge adjustment. For the last 5 years, I have spent every single day with this darling little person. We eat our pb&j's together everyday at lunch. In a few weeks when JCT and I sit down to eat lunch, Joshua's place on the bench will be empty, vacant. He, who taught me this whole mothering business, he will not be present at our table. No, he will be sitting at another table in a busy cafeteria surrounded by little people and teachers.

My Joshua, he is my buddy, my friend, my helper, my cute little man who makes my heart melt, who makes me smile and laugh and do things I never thought I would do ~ like catching caterpillars and jumping in rain puddles. I can't imagine going without him from 8 to 3, 5 days a week. I will miss my little man.

But, it isn't just the missing him. That isn't the only reason that I am struggling with this. It is the letting go that is killing me. Parenting, I am learning, is a process of letting go. They are given to us on loan, and we are to help mold and shape them, but in the end we are to let them go. They are not ours. They are His, and we have to let go. And, being the control-freak that I am this letting go part is the most difficult for me. Because Mama Bear wants to protect her cubs, you know? And, I can protect him at home. I can keep him to a certain degree safe. I can keep certain influences out of our little world. I can make his brothers treat him nice and vise-versa. I can keep them from fighting, mostly. But, when I send him to school, I will not be there to control things. And, I know little boys can be mean. And, I know my Joshua's tender heart. I know his feelings will be hurt. I know that one day he may get in a playground scuffle and come home to me with a black eye or worse. And, so I worry, and I fight this whole letting go process.

I see this as the first step in letting go. Later, we will give him the keys to a car, and he will drive away without Erik or I in the car with him. And, again we will have to let go and trust, let go and trust, let go and trust. . . It must a sort of theme in this whole parenting thing. . . let go a little bit and trust a little bit more. Trusting not in them or in our great giftedness as parents, but rather trusting in Him. Trusting Him that created our little ones. Trusting that He will protect and take care of them. And, trusting that when something does happen that isn't in our plan for our little one, that He will be there to hold us, to hold him, and to help us all through it, whatever it might be. Because everyone knows that life is neither is easy nor is it fair. But, somehow, so far for Joshua it has been just that ~ easy and fair. He knows not of the evils of this world. He knows not of true hatred or impurity. But, it is inevitable that if he lives very long, he will be introduced to them. I'd have to lock him in his room or keep him in a spiritual bubble to keep him away from such things. But, I know that that is not God's will, and so I will let him go a little bit at a time, and I will trust Him a little bit more. . .

I laughed to myself last night as I read the story of David and Goliath from the Children's Message Bible to my little boys. Something I read immediately reminded me of this whole letting go thing. It is in a conversation between David and Goliath that God reminded me that all of this really has very little to do with me or my control. Because really I have no control, only He does. I just think I do. David stands before the giant, a mere boy without armor or strong weaponry, but with a face set like flint before him and a faith in His God that is unshakable, and he says. . .

"You come at me with sword and spear and battle-ax. I come at you in the name of God-of-the-Angel-Armies, the God of Israel's troops, whom you curse and mock. This very day God is handing you over to me. The whole earth will know that there's an extraordinary God in Israel. And everyone gathered here will learn that God doesn't save by means of sword or spear. The battle belongs to God - He's handing you to us on a platter!"

Now you may think that this has nothing to do with letting my Joshua go to school, but to me it has everything to do with it. Because through this little Children's Bible, He reminded me that He is bigger. He is bigger than the giant before me. He is bigger than anyone or anything that Joshua will encounter at school. The battle is His, not mine, not Joshua's. I am not in control, He is. And, Joshua is safely tucked in the palm of His hand. I am resting, or at least attempting, to rest in this. I am choosing to trust in the strong hand of the Lord, the strong hand Who holds my little boy when I cannot.

And, so, in order to come full circle. . . I know the forecast. I know what is to come. Change, and lots of it. And, though my sky appears cloudless at present, I know what looms ahead. But, each day, I am feeling a little more prepared, a little more ready. Ready to let go and trust my God with my Joshua. And, ready to embrace new life and begin the whole process again. . .

Let go and trust. . . Let go and trust. . .