Noah is 18

Dear Noah, I can't believe I'm writing this... but happy 18th birthday. You know I've cried over this many times already, ;) buy ultimately I am so very happy that I have had the privilege of parenting you, mothering you, befriending you, helping shape who you are, and learning from you over the last 18 years. You are someone who I genuinely enjoy being around and look forward to talking to. Going through the Bible chronologically together this year has been one of my favorite bonding experiences with you. I listen to the audio Bible plan more intently, dig in deeper, and research any questions that I may have from the text much more, knowing that I will very likely be talking to you about it. You help sharpen me in the Word, and honestly you always have. I can hardly write this without tears blurring my screen, but I just want you to know how much you mean to me. I know there will be some very big goodbyes in the upcoming year. I've been training your whole life for this. ;) I'll be ok, and YOU, well you will thrive. You are ready for the next steps. I can't wait to hear you preaching the gospel someday and knowing this is a big part of what you were created for. What a year this has been! CEF ministry learning and implementing that learning in many ways, AP classes, football student manger, so many relationships built, a beautiful girlfriend we all love, speaking opportunities, homecoming king, student leader. So much more. I used to always comment on how alike we are. While I still see that in some ways, I see you diverging more and more from who I am and emerging as someone with so many qualities I do not have. The unique gifts God has formed in you are becoming increasingly honed into something very distinctively you. You - my Noah Ben. No longer my sweet little boy. Very much a man of God. I love you so much. I can not put into words the love and the pride and the beauty that is my relationship with you. I have no idea what my life will look like without you in close proximity, as you head to college and pursue your calling. I know I will grow, adjust, and acclimate, as I always do. God has both of us in his hands and I look forward to the continuation of his pruning and nurturing each of us, for his good and for his glory. Mom

Noah's 17

Dear Noah, Each year I have the opportunity to let go of you more and more. This year there were many of those opportunities as you pursued multiple time consuming minitires. Your life is a ministry. That brings me so much joy. I am so proud of you. I'm proud of your drive and excellence in all you do. I know sometimes this year you felt in over your head, but you kept going. Intentionally climbing each mountain ahead of you, seeking God every steo if the way. I have watched God bless you over and over this year and I love to stand back and see you receive these blessings with deep gratitude, yet open hands. You have your priorites right, Noah, and I continue to learn from you. The growth I have seen in you this year has been extremely noticeable, and admirable. I lvoe you and cherish the time I have left with you, Mom

Full where I expected empty

 We’re in this season of life - it’s the preface to our boys leaving the nest. 

I think in some ways this is a gracious preparation. A kindness - preventing these levels of leaving from all hitting at once. 

Everyone has scattered, for an evening or two here and there, each week on the regular throughout the last year or two. But now - 

Now that summer has hit and the boys are older the scattering is longer and further. I’m so excited to watch them stretch and learn and grow. And I also have those quiet moments just to myself - those moments where my mama heart is smiling but weeping. Because deep love of course equals some need for time and space to learn the new. 

Noah is gone until the 30th of this month and he actually kind of nailed it the other day when we were talking. He said, “wow, it must be annoying to do so much for us and have us need you for so much and then suddenly have us begin to have our own thoughts and lives and go our own way.”

The part he didn’t nail was the “annoying” part. That word doesn’t even circle around the definition of what this is for me.  Not at all. But I think he came pretty close to actually getting it; this feeling that I carry and can barely even explain to myself. 

The time line between these amazing humans needing you for everything, to needing you for nothing (at least in a tangible sense) is shockingly more temporary than you think. 

With a graduation still fresh in the rear view of my mind, the processing of this life stage has been closely held in my heart. 

Tears have come quite easily, and sometimes without permission, of late. But it’s not in the way and for the reasons I expected. I remember watching “older” parents {ha!} as their children graduated, moved out, got married. And I saw the mama tears. “Oh this must be so sad!” - I thought. 

You don’t know until you’re there. 

And now I’m planted firmly “there”. 

I’m not sad. 

I’m deeply steeped in memories, nostalgia, and sentimentality. 

But it’s not sadness. Honestly I’m so relieved that this isn’t as crushing as my expectation had made it. 

At the same extent that this transition is not annoying, this phase is not sad. 

I suddenly get it - that the weight on your chest and the tightness of your heart is not the feeling of empty.

It’s the pressure of full. 

A pressing in from a fullness of life and joy and love and memories, 

not an emptiness from human presence being gone. 

Full to the brim of all the goodness of those years. The moments that I was intentional and I saw them and joined them and entered into their world. I fell deeply in love with that world. 

Magic. 

These tears seep out of that.

It’s the opposite of empty, but a fullness unlike anything I’ve ever known. Full of my purpose and God’s goodness. Full of traditions and surprises, and growing up together. 

They took my sleep and my pre-conceived ideas. They changed my body, and my mind. They obliterated my ill placed pride. They took my time, my second piece of pie, the color of my hair.

And in turn - they gave me…. Well, everything. 

So all of those articles and emotion manipulating media pieces stating that “you only have 18 summers” - 

yes, it’s true. 

Your time is limited with them. And there is absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. There is no pause button either. 

But it’s not to be dreaded! It’s absolutely, heart wrenchingly beautiful. 

Love each one of those summers with everything you have, but not with dread or fear. 

And when you do embrace that time, and it starts rushing by, you may feel this pressure on your heart that mimics sadness or emptiness - only to be pleasantly surprised that it is actually what being filled to the brim feels like. 

Jacob is 18

 When I saw a positive pregnancy test in June of 2004 it was almost like stepping in line for the roller coaster that could potentially bring some fear. The roller coaster that can also cause excitement and thrills that make your heart feel like it could burst.

Waiting in that line. Wondering what it would actually be like. 

Cautiously stepping into that small car. 

Having that feeling of finality as the seat belt is buckled and pulled tight. 

Well. There's no getting back in line now. 

Heart starts to beat faster. Not sure

But then it's fine. It's kind of fun. A slow start. Maybe a little jerky. The car seems small and confined. But its fine. 

Then a large hill comes into your vision. 

Hmm. Big hill. Cool.

But wait. That hill is connected to the the track you're on. 

The track this small car that you're buckled into has to travel on. 

Wait. Wait. 

I can't do that hill. That's scary. I wasn't told about hills that go straight up like that! I thought they would be smooth and just slightly elevated. 

But somehow you make it through and on the other side it's flat and kind of fun and chill again. 

Until the next hill pops up. 

Parenting Jacob, in a slightly ill fitting analogy. And for the record, I have enjoyed it more than I enjoy roller coasters. ;)

The point is that here we are at 18. "The end" of some parts of parenting. Only the beginning of so many aspects as well. It's been a ride. Each "hill" has shown me to respect this thing called being a mom more and more and to rely on God for each decision. 

For each heart to heart talk, 

each moment I thought my heart could not be more full, 

each disappointment, 

each second of sincere love and pride in who God is making you to be. 

I didn't know it would be like this. Pouring into the baby and little boy you were. Sometimes being so depleted of sleep and energy to try to be everything you needed, but always being recharged when those sparkly blue eyes looked up. Those eyes - so full of life and adventure and mischief. I didn't know it would feel like a piece of myself was growing along side of me and that as I watched you experience life's hurts and hills and valleys, I would too. 

I realized fairly early on that everything about parenting you would be different than my first experience with motherhood. The milestones you hit were thrilling and the strong will you demonstrated was exhausting. But always always, watching you, loving you, parenting you - has been one of the hugest honors of my life. 

On this roller coaster, there have been far more fun rides around smooth curves and enjoyable little hills than straight up climbs that lead to terrifying, heart stopping downhill drops. But they've been there too.  Mainly those downhill drops have been the thoughts that can invade my mind whispering ideas of failing you or causing pain. Of all the elements in my life - it's this one; the leading, guiding, loving, that I most want to get right. 

And I smile as I see the parts where I did. You know you're loved. You know that no matter what, you are welcomed, embraced, prayed for, supported. 

As hard as it is to believe, and come to terms with the fact, that you are 18 - I do believe it. Because I see a young man where a boy once stood. While you still exhibit some impulsiveness, which is reminiscent of that sparkly blue eyed little boy, I see how God has used life experiences to temper that and add wisdom. You are learning. You are growing. I am proud of you.

Here's to the next step, the next year, the next thing. In the next few months we will watch you finish school, graduate, continue to work, possibly move into a dorm, and start college. 

It is a joy, an honor, and something I will never take for granted to be able to parent you. Thank you for bringing so much joy and helping me to expand my life and heart. 

Love, 

Mom