How Blessed Are We?

Building a relationship with young adult children is like flying to another planet. It’s uncharted territory with no instruction manual. Scary and exciting at the same time, this season of parenting is a journey filled with questions, adventure, and spectacular payoff.

When our kids were young, we enjoyed no shortage of resources at our fingertips—websites, books, podcasts, blogs. Endless voices vied for our attention with eager advice on any aspect of raising kids.

But when those kids become adults? Not so many helps are available anymore. And most of us are left to figure it out on our own, tossed into a new season alongside a community of women who are all handling the transition privately, with a few bossy birds shaming the rest for doing it “wrong” (don’t listen to them).

As a writer and encourager, I’ve been wrestling with the transition from mom-at-home to mom-from-a-distance, digging into Scripture to learn what God wants from me/us at this stage of life and how as women we can be the best version of ourselves.

I’m sad my daughter is living apart from me but equally happy she’s growing into the young woman God designed her to be all along. I miss her like a rock in my heart but I also love that I get to witness her process of becoming. And I know that for those of you walking through a similar season, you feel it, too.

And I think we need an anchor. A solitary truth that can guide us through our days and months and years as we walk toward greater independence between ourselves and our children (on one hand) and closer friendship (on the other). It’s not an either/or; it’s both/and.

And this past weekend I think I found it, the anchor.

It showed up at my door Friday night—a surprise visit from my college kid.

I’d just talked with her earlier in the day, chatting from my home office to her campus living room, asking about classes and weekend plans and what she had on the docket for her evening. As usual my heart leapt into the phone screen and I wished I could hug her pretty face. Sometimes the missing part digs a little deeper and I pray godspeed the days to the next holiday break. This was one of those times.

We’d ended our call with the usual love you’s and smiles, and I went about my afternoon. So when six hours later I saw her in-the-flesh smiling face poke around the door, I shrieked.

“What are you doing here??” Tears prickled my eyes and I squeezed her tight. Turns out her roommate decided to drive home for the night, so my girl tagged along and surprised us with an overnight visit for dinner and family time like old days. And my momma heart soared.

It’s tempting to think moments like that place us back to “normal,” as though the four of us around the table are the way life is supposed to be. But I know that’s not true anymore. Normal is something different now. What’s “supposed to be” is our children growing into adults and living independently. Brief visits are the norm these days.

And it’s okay to be sad about that. It’s okay to feel the heartache of a transition in which your favorite people are no longer within inches of your hugs on a daily basis.

But it’s also okay to see the beauty in it.

And that’s what I did this weekend.

Instead of wishing that my daughter could stay and remain with me every moment, I thanked God for the moments she can spare. They are a gift.

Instead of sniffling over the fact that in 12 hours she’d be headed back to campus, buried in a schedule that makes her too busy to text some days, I asked all the questions and chatted until bedtime to catch up on what I’d missed.

And instead of praying for God to plan her future in a way that keeps her close, brings her back home for a job or a family that lives next door to Grammy, I’ve started praying for God to prepare my heart for His plan… wherever that takes my kids.

And that brings me to the anchor. Instead of telling myself, “This is hard,” I flipped the script. I looked at my beautiful girl and whispered to Jesus, “How blessed are we?”

How blessed are we—my husband and I—that we GET to watch this lovely young woman blossom into an amazing adult that we’d choose to be friends with even if she wasn’t our daughter?

How blessed are we—moms of young adults like you and me—that we GET to learn who our kids are apart from us? That God is allowing us glimpses into their lives, knowing He is protecting and shaping them in ways we never could?

And how blessed are we—mother and child together—to build a relationship based on mutual love for Jesus that transcends family bloodlines and places us in the family of Christ?

My daughter and I aren’t just mom-child relatives. We’re sisters in Christ. And that is a blessing of eternal proportions.

So, my fellow moms of college kids, married kids, living-far-away kids of every kind—will you let this be your anchor, too? There is so much good in the encore season of motherhood. How blessed are we that we GET to walk in it?

"What would be an adequate thanksgiving to offer God for all the joy we experience before him because of you? We do what we can, praying away, night and day, asking for the bonus of seeing your faces again and doing what we can to help when your faith falters." (1 Thessalonians 3:9–10, MSG)