Tomorrow, my son turns eighteen. Yikes, I am the mother of an eighteen year old. He is a fine young man. He loves God, works full-time at our church and honors his heavenly Father as well as his earthly parents.
So, why so blue? Well, my baby isn’t a baby anymore, and I suppose he hasn’t been for some time, but there’s something about eighteen that says, “I have now entered the adult world.” I am very willing to be adviser and mentor and not the parent who is to be obeyed. He has earned my trust, and I know that he will make wise decisions, and that even when he makes a mistake, he will run to the High Tower.
But I do feel a little bit like I did when I got my divorce. If I’m not a stay at home mom, who am I? I have one year of home schooling left with my youngest, and then what? I look to the future with both trepidation and excitement. I will be available to do things I never would have had time to do before. And yet, there is a death. The death of a role. Thank goodness there are roles of a lifetime.
I am always a daughter. Even after my parents are gone, I am God’s daughter.
I am always a follower of Christ.
I am always His Princess, His bride.
However, everything else is subject to change. I may work somewhere for some time, but I could change jobs or careers. I will be married until the day that one of us passes to Glory, and then I will no longer be a wife.
I guess the moral of the story is that we must sow the majority of our lives into eternity, and never into temporary situations. Because if we put all of our eggs in one basket, many times there is a day when that basket is empty, or broken or exchanged for a different basket. Then what?
So, I guess I can see that as the time has come for the bulk of my attention will be given elsewhere, that I must choose to look at the future with excitement, knowing that God has a purpose for the rest of my days and it’s a good future. I feel like an actress who has just finished a very long run on Broadway, playing the same role for years. Who will I get to be next?