Though it may seem like I dropped off the face of the earth this summer, I really haven’t. I am here. I haven’t blogged due to the fact that all my blogging time (Saturday mornings) turned into bike riding time. We trained for a century ride this summer (100 miles), and I am happy to say we did it…and I didn’t die, though I felt like I was going to die, and my posterior felt things I had not experienced before. I won’t go into those details though.
I also got all the funds raised for the latrine project! Its been amazing to see my friends, family, people I didn’t even know, help me raise money to help build bathrooms and sanitation stations for kids with Compassion in Tanzania! It was a happy 50th birthday present!
However today, is a significant day. I have a lump in my throat, and before I even got in the shower, I found myself hunched over, sitting on the side of my bed, with hands in my face, crying. My husband wrapped his arms around me and just said, “I know.”
No, nothing tragic has happened. I finally slept through the night last night, after weeks of wrestling with anxious thoughts and anticipation and waking up frequently.
The day has arrived though. A day I have dreaded, but a day that is important in my daughter’s life. She’s packed, she’s ready, and we are leaving tomorrow for a road trip to Nashville, to deliver her for school. We are hitting 17 states over the next two weeks. We are going to Tahoe this weekend then taking the southern route across the 2300-mile journey.
But I feel fragile today. It’s the last day we will be in our house together. She won’t come back home to this home of 17 years, because in two weeks, we move into a new home… and that is an entirely different story.
The other night, I invited her small group leaders from church and Karen, (her Godmother), to come and share a meal, to pray for her, to encourage her. These women have carried Grace’s heart spiritually and emotionally.
Last night, we went to one of Grace’s restaurants as a family, and it was just fun.
But this morning, I can’t quite pull it together. My day is scheduled out with the business at work, so I am pausing to write, to just ask God to come close, comfort us, bring us peace, and let His love wash over my family.
Launching a child, sending them off, sending them so far, is hard. God led us here, and I take comfort in His marvelous plan, but I am a snotty mother of a mess.
Ecclesiastes 3 says there is a time for everything.
There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace. (NIV version)
I thought of this passage this morning, and I realize there is a time to send your child away, and a time to mourn them leaving. A time to realize life will never be the same. And time to begin a new journey. And a time to wonder who’s bed the dog will sleep on now…and laugh because you don’t want to cry, over the little things.
Tomorrow the journey across the USA begins, and I really can’t stop time. It’s here and I am just praying that we can’t soak it all in. I am praying that when it’s time to say goodbye, to get back into the car to make the journey home without her, that God will help me though that time.
Sigh! Ugh! I can do this. I know I can, but its so hard! Thanks for letting me process!
Life, Family, Faith and Travel...the life of a Jones
Dominican Republic Missions trip
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