Hurricane Andrew was approaching like a fast pitch; it’s path was straight and true. I had the TV on listening to Brian Norcross sound the alarm as I rushed around the house trying to secure what I could before evacuating with our three little kids. One of the last things I did was place our wedding album onto my son’s top bunk. I figured it would be safest up there-nice and high- in case of terrible flooding..
What I hadn’t predicted was that the wind would cause the roof to collapse- right over top of his bedroom.
The album was a goner..
Isn’t it funny how we try to protect that which means the most to us in ways that sometimes prove to be the exact opposite of what we should do? Had I left my album in the family room closet it would have “survived” the event.
My daughter and her friends were down in Florida for Spring break last week and much to my chagrin, decided to spend a few days on South Beach. As a mother, I of course wasn’t wild about the idea and frankly wanted to protect them from every conceivable danger I feel is lurking down there.
(Hey, I used to watch Miami Vice…)
Just like with my special possessions, I wanted to tuck my daughter into a safe place (why not go to Disney?) and protect her from..well, everything.
But I didn’t, they went.. and clearly had a great time.
The path to letting go is paved with trust and faith. I had to trust that my daughter would use common sense and take measures to protect herself and her friends. More importantly, I have to trust that God loves my kids even more than I do and that while it feels like I’m just releasing them into the wild, I’m actually giving them over to His care.
Our instinct as moms is to tuck our kids into safety blankets and protect them from life’s bumps and bruises, but in doing so we keep them from maturing and learning the lessons that will eventually mold them into the capable adults they are destined to be.
Letting go is the most difficult action we can take…
But we know that nothing good grows under wraps in the dark..and that includes the long shadow cast by a mother’s worries and the clutch of her over-protective wings.