My favorite time of day during the school year was always the ride home with the kids, asking them how their day was, hearing all about the cafeteria lore, the classroom chaos, the playground adventures, academic triumphs and failures, and social highs and lows of the day. Sometimes there was laughter, while other days brought tears. Some days, they welcomed me with hugs or high fives, and then others with crossed arms and silence. But, no matter what kind of day they had, they usually shared at least some details of their day that I had missed while they were away from me. It made me feel closer to them, like I was a part of their daily lives outside of our home and they actually wanted me to know what went on in their day and how they felt about the things that happened to them and around them.
Now, my son is 18 and literally moving halfway around the world to play soccer and go to school exactly one week from today. My daughter is 16, has her own car, her own friends, and her own life away from her old mother. I miss the carpool days more than I ever imagined I could possibly miss something that seemed so routine at the time. I took for granted my children’s desire to share with me the details of their lives. Don’t get me wrong–I know they stil love me and I know they believe that their old mom still loves them, but the interactions have changed. And it hurts. My heart misses them, even when they’re sitting in the same room. I ask how their day was, and you know what they say. All together now…”Fine.” Ugh. “What did you do today?” You guessed it…”Nothing.” Cool. Awesome. Thanks for sharing.
Pondering on my desperation to hear every facet of my children’s day and feel like I’m relevant in their lives led me to think about how much I share with God about my own daily details–my own classroom chaos (dude…I teach high school freshman all. day. long. #chaos), my own academic triumphs and failures, my own social highs and lows. My Heavenly Father has a desperate desire to rejoice in my laughter and comfort my sorrows. He is, after all, my Abba Father, my daddy who loves me and wants to hear about every facet of my day. He wants me to talk to Him just like I long for my own children to talk to me. What an amazing Father He is.
Psalm 139: 7-10 says, “Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” We may have to be separated from our sweet children when they go to school during the day, or when they grow up and spread their wings and fly, but God is always with us. He never leaves us. He knows us, loves us, wants to talk to us, to hear from us, and spend time with us. He wants to be relevant in our lives.
I encourage you to join me this school year in spending more time sharing my daily life with God in prayer, knowing that nothing is too insignificant or routine to Him. We are His special creation, the apples of His eye, the ones He gave His only Son to save so we could spend eternity with Him. He wants to know ALL the things!
Now, if I could go be omnipresent and sleep on a mattress on my son’s dorm room floor, I would. But, I don’t think that would be good for his social life. And, alas, I do want him to bloom and grow where is he planted…even if it’s across an ocean without old mom cramping his style. But don’t think I’m not expecting a facetime call at least once every couple of weeks! Keep mom in the loop, kid!
Rays of Sunshine inc 