Freedom…and Fear

I am free! I don’t know when he last brushed his teeth, or if he remembered to floss. My son is growing up. I used to know every little detail of his day and was an active participant of everything from washing his ears to wiping his tears.

Now we sit across the table from each other, sipping coffee…paid for by him. We talk about ideas and I make mental notes throughout the conversation to look up his verbiage in the dictionary when we get home. I only understand about half of what he says. I’m so proud of him.

But I’m also terrified.

Like I’m going up…up…up on a roller coaster and I am gripped by fear. I grab the sides of the seat but I know it will do no good because the car is going to free-fall at any moment now and drag me with it.

The decisions before my son now are big…no longer deciding between which color toy car to take with us or what candy to pick as a thank you gift for the teacher.

Not even decisions like who to ask to the banquet or what class to sign up for next semester.

No. Bigger ones. And I’m terrified of them. Because sometimes I forget that God is right here with me.

And God is right there with him. Providing—just like He always has.
And I tell myself:

Remember when God protected him from the mysterious swelling in his cheek? When He eased the sky-high fever? When He sorted out the teacher problem? When He drew my son to His very heart in salvation? When He gave this one the courage to speak up for what was right and when He provided financially for tuition? When He guided him through decisions like where to go to college? Remember that?

He’s still doing that. Even when my son is grown up. Yes, there is always the choice to follow God or go the other way. He has a choice every day. Just like I choose every day:

I choose to trust or to fear.

I choose to panic or to pray.

I choose to cling to my son, or let him soar.

…even if he takes a few dips and free-falls along the way.

Yes, there is a wonderful, free feeling not to monitor every detail of his life. And a deep sense of pride over the wise choices he has made so far. And it’s mixed with panic over possible scenarios in the future.

And I must choose.

I must choose to present to the Lord my offering. I will bring my worries and leave them at the altar.

That part is my choice alone.