It was a breathless week, but after some financial gymnastics by the very helpful financial aid office at her university, we were awarded enough assistance and student loan opportunities for my sweet girl to begin her pursuit of higher education. God didn’t answer our prayers in quite the way we were hoping and expecting, but He did answer, as He always does.
You would think that after so many answered prayers, after so many provisions for needs of which we were not even yet aware, we would be immune to anxiety, but we’re not. We’re learning though—slowly, but we’re learning. I’m learning.
I’m learning that God loves my daughter more than I do—so much more. I’m learning that He knows what she needs before she needs it and that He has already made provision. I’m learning to bring needs to Him as soon as they arise rather than running around trying to provide for them myself, bringing them to Him only when I’ve reached the end of my meager resources.
I’m also learning that my precious child has much to teach me about faith and what’s important. She is learning childlike faith by watching the loving care of her Father while I am an alarmist who constantly needs to be reminded that perfect love casts out fear.
So to Him who loves her most we take our myriad concerns. Will she get along with her roommate? Will she remember to take her medication? Will she be able to get up on time in the morning? Will her eating disorder rear its ugly, relentless head with the stress of college life? Silly worries taunt me, but they are needless. She’s an intelligent young woman. She will make mistakes and then she will adjust to correct them, just like the rest of us did (and do), and her Father will be there to help her navigate the bumps and recover from the falls. I have to leave her in His hands because He is so much stronger, so much wiser, so much more capable than I am. But after the nearly catastrophic roads she has traveled in recent years and after the deep wounds she has sustained, I think I worry much more than I otherwise would.
The answers are not all clear yet, but I know that things are different now because she is trusting Jesus now. She wasn’t then. She has experienced so much healing, and though she still has wounds that hurt when touched, He who began the healing process will not abandon it. I know that her scars will be reminders of past brokenness, of where she doesn’t want to go again, and of how sweetly the Healer has mended her wounds.
And so I am asking Him over and over again to teach me, to give me wisdom, to help me know how to rightly parent this amazing, fragile, strong, smart, precious young adult without smothering her or making her doubt herself. The biggest challenge most days is not letting my own doubt, fear, and weakness cause me to be a hindrance to her. This feels like walking on a frozen pond—one tentative, prayerful step at a time—but we will listen carefully to our Guide, and we will get across it.
I am so excited for my girl, so hopeful and thankful. Every day is an adventure and a victory. She is held by a Mighty Hand, and she is going to be just fine.