Our House Is Too Quiet
Last night, we drove away, leaving our daughter in Oklahoma City. She is about to begin her sophomore year in college. The weekend was a swirl.
There is nothing quite like moving into a dorm room when the temperature is 105 degrees outside. We moved all of her "stuff" in. Lots of stuff. Shoes. OK–I know–I’m a guy. But I don’t even begin to understand all these shoes. I’ve got black shoes. I’ve got brown shoes. I’ve got casual shoes. I’ve got running shoes. That doesn’t begin to describe the shoes I brought into that dorm room. My sweet girl has variety.
The cousins were there. She is actually going to college with three cousins. Amazing. We met lots of friends. Her new roommate, with whom we were very impressed. And–the girls next door (who were in our home not long ago). Yet, we were impressed with you as well.
This morning, I have been thinking about her. What would I like for her to know? (By the way, I think these are important for all of our children.)
1. I want her to know I have great confidence in her. I believe in her. I believe she loves God and desires to live in his will. I believe her heart is right. Perfect? No. Neither is her daddy’s. But I do believe in her. (I also believe we all need for someone to believe in us.)
2. I want her to know I pray for her every day and usually several times a day. I believe that God is at work in her life as a result of my prayers and the prayers of many others. I believe God causes things to happen in her life that I have prayed for. (By the way, moms and dads, if you are not praying for your children every day, who is? I believe that praying for my children is one the most important things I do as a parent).
3. I want her to know I pray for her friends and for her professors. I know some of the names and faces. Others, I just know the names. I pray for them as well. Today, I will begin by praying for her new roommate and the girls next door.
4. I want her to know she is not alone. God, in his tender mercy, is with her. She will not have to be alone–not for a single moment. He is faithful and will never leave her or forsake her. She may feel stress, pressure, disappointment, or anxiety, but his reassuring presence gives hope. His love for her is constant and forever.
A special time of life? Yes. For that I’m grateful.
But today, I already miss her. Today, the house is a little too quiet.
Love the insight into your heart! Speaking of shoes … some friends of ours came out to Los Angeles from Florida for our son’s wedding and a vacation stay of about 8 days following the wedding. There were three women on this trip. Each one of them brought about 12 pair of shoes (no exaggeration) for an 8-day stay. And purchased … you guessed it … while out here.
Jim, it will not be long before I’ll enter into the part of the journey where we send our kids to college. I couldn’t bare the thought if it occured to me that my boys would have to go “out there” alone. (I can’t think too much about any of that right now; it’s just gets me misty eyed.) How glorious it is that the same Abba who keeps company with your daughter keeps company with us all, especially when our house has grown dreadfully quiet and our heart longs for communion with ones we love. Peace to you, and comfort. May God keep your daughter in the shadow of His wings.
Jim,
Your daughter has a pretty good dad. I am not looking forward to that day taking my daughter to college. God probably had the same difficult time sending his Son to Earth, but look at the rewards that came through that. Thank You for sharing your quiet home.
Perry,
Thanks. I can, and will, say the same about you. You are a good dad. Your two children are fortunate.
Ben,
Thanks for such a thoughtful comment. All of this “growing up” is pretty sobering. I’m thankful for God’s presence–both with my children and myself.
Greg,
Thanks for your story. Maybe we are supposed to have more than a few pair. 🙂