She did a thing.
All by herself.
Though, strangely enough, she asked me to be with her.
A big decision.
A big purchase.
What a joy it’s been watching her as she has wrestled:
How do I make Godly choices?
How do I be responsible and make an educated purchase?
What do I really need?
And this process can be agonizing and produce desires to eat chocolate and other unhealthy things.
How new of a car does one really need?
Do I really need a new car now?
Can I get through the winter?
I’ll just get through the winter.
Decision making is crippling!
These discussions rage on (and fighting off the desire to eat more than one needs to) until. . .
Her current car could not pass inspection.
Strangely enough it will next year.
But right now it won’t.
And so. . . the decision has been made for her.
And she did a thing.
She signed on the line and purchased a car.
Her hands so much like my mom, her Nana, and her other Grammie.
Hands that work hard.
Hands that nurture and bring healing.
Hands that hold a loved one in their last moments.
Hands that will always hold love.
It’s not her first car.
It’s not brand new.
But it is newer and more stylish.
The air conditioning will work, the windshield wipers will work.
She won’t have to worry if it will start, or break down.
Life is ever changing.
This once little girl, is now a grown woman;
ready for God to continue to unfold her story.
A story that is waiting to be told
It’s a joy to watch as these kids take flight.
It’s also hard.
I listened to a broad cast where a woman talked about her son growing up
and comparing it to a slow break up with a boyfriend/girlfriend.
And I cried.
It’s so exciting to watch these kids spread their wings.
But it is lonely too.
A part of me goes with them.
I have loved being a mom.
And I have loved the transitions through the stages.
Such unspeakable joy.
It’s not always easy.
But it’s a gift.
She was able to remote start her car as she got ready to head to the hospital.
She was giddy with excitement to be warm.
I watched her go.
A wise woman once said to me that there are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children.
One of these she said is roots, the other, wings. ~William Hodding Carter (1907–1972)
My work will never be done.
But it is changing.
And so am I.
I am seeking how God wants this next chapter of my life to unfold.
I will seek and search while I watch these kids spread their wings and fly; one by one. . .
She did a thing.
And we’re so proud of her.