I drove to Detroit Saturday and picked up my girl from the airport.
Elizabeth is home!!!
Home, that is, until she leaves again to study at Wheaton's science center in the Black Hills. All.Summer.Long.
It seems this growing up thing involves a lot of away-from-home time. And I am reminded frequently of the realization I had when I was pregnant with Elizabeth: that she isn't really "mine." We were at some type of missions meeting when it happened. I was so excited about this little baby who would soon be coming into our world, couldn't wait to be a mommy, and it was as if God said, Yes. But hold her loosely. She is Mine and I am giving her to you to raise. There may come a day when I call her to follow Me somewhere far away from here. And if I do that, you need to be ready to let her go.
Ahhhh, seemed so easy to make that commitment at the time. I mean, when the baby isn't even born yet, you cannot imagine the day will arrive when she'll actually be spreading her wings and preparing to fly wherever her God may call.
But, alas, here we are.
My precious daughter - whose heart is a beautiful reflection of her Father, who delights me just by being the woman God has made her to be, who isn't really mine. Twenty years ago, when she was endlessly crying because she was colicky - and I was, too! - (I was crying, not colicky, this is.) I don't think I could have seen this day coming. This day when I am fully enjoying her being home, while I am also preparing to send her off again.Knowing that wherever she is - whether in my house, or not - God is with her. And where He is, she is home.