When Your College Kid Misses You Too

“I miss you, Mom.”

Just a handful of words, they illuminate my phone and I exhale.

“Miss you, too, sweet pea. Lots and lots.”

My college girl texts me often, usually in response to a question, like how was your day, did the ed psych test go ok, anything fun planned for the weekend?

But every so often I get an unexpected message without trigger:

“I miss you.”

“I love you.”

“Hi.”

And I’m reminded all over again how cruel it seems that we don’t get to do life alongside each other in the flesh anymore, the way we did for 18 years, my sidekick, my shopping buddy, my partner in Starbucks crime.

My heart swells to know she’s thinking of me just like I’m thinking of her, yet I wish she didn’t have to share the ache of homesickness in order to grow into who God made her to be.

Joy and sorrow, side by side. That’s the Christian life for us all.

God the Father knows this, He's been there. He gave His one and only Son, releasing Him from the comfort of their heavenly home to walk among us (John 3:16). The cost was immense. The purpose was clear. The love was undeniable. That's what love does—it releases what it treasures most, because the separation serves a greater good.

Now, is God asking us to send our kids to the cross? No, thankfully. They might have to endure the suffering of cafeteria food or cramming for finals, but in general their pain and ours is limited to a special kind of heartache that leads to happiness when the kids come home for holidays.

Which actually, if you think about it, is also a lot like God's relationship to His Son. They too experienced a joyous reunion on Resurrection Day. And the world was better for it.

Jesus had a mission. Our children have one, too. So when that unexpected "I miss you, Mom" pings my phone, I'm reminded that this ache—this beautiful, terrible ache—is what it feels like to love someone well enough to let them go. And someday, when they're all the way grown and living out their calling, we'll look back and see it was worth it.

“I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” (3 John 1:4)

Homesickness won't last forever. But the people our kids are becoming? That's eternal. And we get the privilege of watching it all unfold.