Thursday, August 26, 2010

Indiana wants her

On our way south to drop our oldest child off for her great mid-west adventure, which might turn into the adventure of her life.  A couple months ago when this idea came up, she approached us with it with some trepidation. "So my friend, Samantha, wants me to go back to Indianapolis where there are a lot of Sport Management job opportunities in Olympic sports, colleges, the NCAA, and possibility other sports marketing firms."  She talked about how much money she'd saved up, the possibility of graduate school if no job panned out, and how dead-end, career-wise, her job here is.  She'd been thinking and praying about this a long time before talking to us. The day she talked to me, I said, "I think you should do it."  It had the 'ring' of God to it, if that makes sense.  The 'step-off-the-limb-and-trust' feel that God was in it and she needed to answer.  And, because we're so often on the same page, think alike, and have walked similar roads, Beve had said the same thing just hours earlier as they'd been driving around mowing lawns together.

So today's the day she puts feet to faith, takes that over-packed bag (I think it's all the shoes that make it too heavy, E!) and flies off to the very center of this country to look for a job. It's a three-week trip, for now, but will either last that long, be shorter (so she can hurry back, pack her car and drive across the country) and longer at the same time (that whole packing her car thing implies packing up her life, if you're following!).  But either way, there's a likely Internship waiting for her in the spring at USA gymnastics, so sooner or later, she'll find herself in Indiana. 

And with all the changes that have happened in our lives lately, all the sad things, I'm both sad and happy about this one.  I love knowing that she's listening to God, willing to take such a risk of faith.  I have always, always believed that He meets us in exact proportion to our risk.  This is a big one, and I trust with her, that he will meet her at the end of that leap.  He will be waiting at the end of the walkway in Indianapolis, and will reveal such things as she cannot yet imagine about Him, her, and what her life will be.

And, of course, I'm sad.  Beve and I always knew these months with her back in our house and life were merely a boon.  She was never going to stay in Bellingham.  She wasn't going to be a lifer in the Western Washington University transcribing program.  She was antsy from the get-go.  Anxious to put to use the rather formidable cache of skills and talents she'd acquired over the years at community college, WSU, at USA Wrestling.  She's been itching to work, to really work, in her chosen field.  This is a first-born, over-achieving driver, and simply typing for a living--as well-paying as it's been--has bored her silly (and she spent so much time typing in education classes she discovered she would NEVER want to be a teacher!).

So off she goes, with a ticket in one hand and her hopes and dreams in the other.  Having to buy all new toiletries when she gets there, she just informed the company, so that all her shoes can fit without being charged for extra-weight.

And my prayers fly with her.  Again.  Every step she's ever taken, she's taken with my prayers.  When she put her first shoe on the step of the school bus, she did it with me speaking to Jesus under my breath as I let go of her hand.  When I waved goodbye to her when she pulled out of the driveway the first day she drove off in a car by herself, my prayers were surrounding tthat car every mile.  And when we dropped her off in college and left her standing on the street outside a building at WSU (oddly, the engineering building where my dad had worked all his professional life there), my prayers covered her like a shroud.  When she left with Beve on a snowy morning for a long drive to Colorado, I was praying every mile.  And so I pray today. For the journey she will take, and the journey awaiting when she gets there. 

That's what a mother does.  It's how a mother lets go.  Praying every step our child takes.

No comments: