Tomorrow Beve and I drive across the state for SK's last college Parents' Weekend. It's hard to believe. The last time. Even that phrase kind of freaks me out a little. It's all moved so quickly. I can hardly wait to see her. But I want it to last. This moment. This wonderful, amazing season in her life, where she's surrounded by professors who stretch her, friends who love and encourage her, when all the world is right there in walking distance. House, theater building, music building, chapel, HUB. Repeat. And repeat, and repeat again. I love that she found this community that so suits her, that was waiting for her long before she was even born. I love that she took a single look and knew it, that she trusted more God more than her dad, and God met her at the point of her trust. Her trust, and His meeting of it, was profound to Beve and me, too.
So I'm sad. And that's okay. It won't keep me from loving this weekend with SK, which, at her frenetic pace, means we'll only see her in bits and pieces. We'll follow her around, as much as we can, have plenty of time with each other, which is always a boon, and we'll see some great friends as well. Yes, jam-packed-full and we'll suck the marrow out of all of it. And when we're driving back home Sunday, then I'll let myself relax enough to feel the 'this is the last time' sadness that is hovering at the edges.
The fact that God met her in such a way in such a place will help SK trust again and again and again. More and more and more. It's a good way to live, and one I certainly pray she takes with her when she moves beyond the Pine Cone curtain.