I’m in my car and my mind races. There are only two weeks left in this school year and then this fall my son, Solomon, will be entering his senior year. There are lists of things we need to do and exams he needs to take, and he still has to schedule his driver’s test—so much to do and yet my heart is both wanting and not wanting this next milestone that will come whether I’m ready or not.
I spot a school bus ahead. Ugh. I timed my afternoon trip to the store completely wrong. I’ll be stuck behind the bus dropping off kids for the next five miles.
The lights flash and a little girl gets off the bus and hugs her mom. Half a block ahead a boy gets off and runs to the doorstep as his mom watches from the window. I think of all the days I’ve waited for Solomon, anticipating how his day went, hoping for the best.
I decide to go a different way and turn down a lonely road. Ahead, a deer darts across it and I come to a full stop in time to see a tiny fawn, just a baby, and then another cross. They catch up to their mom, who waits by the thick brush. When she sees they’ve made it, she disappears into the woods, trusting her babies will follow in her footsteps.
Heavenly Father, thank you for showing me that letting go is a necessary part of love—and because of you, I trust that all will be fine.
