Some of you know our son moved to Alabama in early March, officially making us empty nesters. For the past few nights, I’ve found myself wide awake—worrying. Up until now, he’d been living with his boss’s family, but on Saturday, he moved out on his own.
If you’re a mom of adult kids, you know the kind of worries that creep in. He’s a single guy, living alone for the first time. I trust him… kind of. But the world is full of temptations—for the young and the not-so-young. I worry about the big equipment he operates, about him finding good friends, eating well, avoiding trouble… and not blowing all his money on that “new” truck. And goodness, I miss him.
When I shared this with my husband, his advice? “You need to stop worrying at night and just sleep. Do your worrying in the daytime.” Ummm… sure. Easier said than done! I haven’t quite figured out how to turn off my brain when my head hits the pillow.
And it’s not just our son. I miss my daughter too. She’s in Kansas with her family, and I couldn’t be prouder—she rebuilt her semi’s engine, cleaned it up, and even painted it herself. I never imagined back when I was “teaching” mechanics to my 7th and 8th graders (I use the term teaching very loosely, mind you!) that one of my kids would go on to do something so major.
But still… I worry about her heart. Her marriage. Her little boy. Whether she knows how deeply God loves her. And I miss her—our shopping trips, picking up pheasant chicks in Wisconsin, laughing, telling stories, and me (of course) singing to her in the car.
Then the other morning, I saw a quote someone had shared (see the graphic below), and it stopped me in my tracks.
Why is it so hard to fully entrust our kids to God? Am I holding on too tightly? I know they were only mine for a time, but goodness, letting go is hard. I want to shield them from heartache, steer them away from disappointment, and wrap them up in bubble wrap forever.
But that’s not how life—or faith—works. Each of us has a path to walk. A tapestry to be woven. And God, in His wisdom, uses both light and dark threads to create something beautiful.
I’m still learning how to trust the Master Weaver… especially in those quiet, sleepless nights.
Sparkling Escapades Abroad with the Fairy Bra Mother 