Three days ago, my eldest son boarded a plane for Colorado. The night before had been filled with packing & organizing & re-packing & chatting about the week to come, so when the clock blared loud at 3:15 a.m. (who flies out at 5:30 anyway??!), his demeanor was tinged with both excitement and exhaustion, anticipation and... hope.
Several hours later, he landed in Colorado Springs with a few of his fellow teammates, and from there they made the short jaunt to the Olympic Training Center where they're working hard this week, training for a dream.
Parenting truly is bittersweet. On the one hand, children are supposed to grow up! God designed them that way, after all, and I wouldn't have it any other way. But when I watched my oldest babe stroll out the door-- suitcase in hand, adventure on face-- the tumult churned anew. Because the big girl in me was jumping up and down, cheering for all to hear... here comes my boy, and I am so, SO proud. But deep down inside, where no one but the Lord could see, a terrible ache spread slow... because my son is growing up. All too quickly... growing up.
Thankfully, we live in the modern era. Praise God for cell phones-- he called!-- and we talked long, and oh, how I rejoice in the gifts of the Lord!!
As we await his return, we pack and play and run and swim-- anxious for summer's last hoorah. Back to the beach we go (as soon as we pick up our sure-to-be weary traveler from the airport), back to the glorious expanse... where earth meets sky, and the heavens truly declare His glory!
There are days when I wish summer would linger forever-- days on the sand, days that move slow. But then I remember the beauty of seasonal change-- my favorite being next in line-- and I breathe deep the provision of the Father.
Taste and see that the LORD is good;
blessed is the one who takes refuge in Him.