It’s a choice really.

We moved Meagan into her dorm three weekends ago.  Drove 25 minutes to Berkeley versus flying 500 miles to San Diego.  Easy-peasy, right?  She had also purchased pretty much everything she needed online and categorically packed it all up herself the night before.  Then Dave packed it all in Ninja Tetris-Master form in his car.

Speaking of packing, that was when I really lost it with Natalie three years ago.  Watching her pack that last bit of luggage the night before flying down to UCSD was the defining moment when I could no longer hold back perhaps years of tears.

So I was determined to be prepared with Child #2.  The night before move-in day, I emphatically proclaimed to Meagan “I will not watch you pack nor will we discuss it.”  And then added the directive “You are not to look me in the eyes at any point these next 24 hours.”

There.  That should do it.  But I probably didn’t have anything to worry about since my tear ducts were most likely still in drought mode after the onslaught of emotions and deluge of tears after Child #1 left the nest.

Meagan’s move-in day ended up being an entirely different experience than Natalie’s.  A full day of meeting the roomies, assembling small appliances, trying out different furniture configurations, having lunch with new friends AND their parents, trips to Target and Office Depot, hanging wall decor, and taking roomies out for a nice dinner before the dorm food routine begins the next day.  Then we hugged, and Dave and I left.

Maybe it was the busyness of the day or that I had mentally prepped myself better, but I didn’t cry this time.  I still haven’t.

I sort of feel guilty for not crying.  I mean it’s not the kind of guilt like I did something wrong or should have done more or better.  Was I using the “tear factor” as a measure of how much I’ll miss Meagan or even as a comparison of how much I love her?

No, that’s not it.

Friends keep asking me how it has been now that I’m officially an empty nester.  I remember three years ago telling friends that I can’t even go in Natalie’s room without crying.  And then avoiding going in her room altogether.

And then a song would come on the radio that reminded me of Natalie, and I’d break down in big, ugly sobs alone in my car.

I felt incredibly guilty when Natalie left the nest.  There was a deep void in my life that I couldn’t fill because I couldn’t identify its source.  It wasn’t supposed to feel like this.  I had a hard time moving forward.

Embracing and being happy for her new journey in life… What kind of mom wouldn’t feel this?  The kind that can’t let go of the past.  The kind that lost touch with how she became an adult overnight.  The kind that feels like all those years as room mom, driving on field trips, listening to her practice speeches, helping construct dioramas, tucking her into bed, and praying together every night…were perhaps now just a distant collage of memories.  And that I was the only one who would remember them.

My role in my firstborn’s life had changed seemingly overnight.  I knew how to be a mom to a preschooler, elementary schooler, and to some extent, a middle and high schooler.  I didn’t know how to be a mom to an adult.  I felt like a failure.  And I felt empty.

I still don’t have it all figured out, but it has taken three years to write that last paragraph.

It’s quite possible to be surrounded by lots of loving family, friends, a job you love, and even a sport you immensely enjoy and STILL feel empty.

The remedy for emptiness?  Identify the source.  There you have it. *Side note:  If you are struggling with this yourself, I just saved you thousands of dollars in therapy.

The source of my emptiness was guilt and misguided self-worth.  Guilt can carve a chasm deeper and wider than the Colorado River through through the Grand Canyon.  My guilt was about not being a good enough mom.  And I had managed to convince myself that my kids no longer needed me.

If I go waaaaaaay back to when both kids were infants and toddlers, I remember my entire self-worth for the day being measured by how well they ate, slept, and played with other kids.  Maybe I never quite let go of that strange sense of accomplishment.

All those things that filled my nest seemed to leave with the first child going off to college.

What’s different this time around?

Well, for one, I now have the benefit of a rear view mirror in which I can look back and see all the many times God saw my biggest “mom fears” and answered my spoken and unspoken prayers for both my children.  To my mom friends, you know what I’m talking about… All our worst nightmares about letting our kids go and the choices they will make.  But also the circumstances that are NOT a result of choices – the stuff that’s completely out of anybody’s control.

So this time around after move-in day, I had such a peace that the college roomies and friends I’ve prayed over for my kids were all designated by God and better than any roommate-match system.  And when they get their first cold in college, they most likely won’t die.  And dorm food won’t kill them either.  And not every stranger they meet at the library wants to steal their stuff or convince them to join a cult.

But more than that, I’ve seen first hand how God has used these last few years to grow and equip both of my kids.  I’ve heard both of them get passionate about different subjects and fields of study.  I’ve watched them navigate relationships – sometimes as the counselor and encourager, and sometimes as the recipient of misunderstandings, tears, and frustrations.  I’ve also been the proud momma on the sidelines witnessing both kids in leadership roles.

One child is now in her last year of college and one is in her first year.  I have enjoyed listening in on the advice being passed on from one to the other.  I have also enjoyed time alone with my younger child these past few years and seeing the different ways God has gifted her which I probably didn’t get to focus on when both kids were at home.  In fact, some days when Meagan would tell me about how she did on a school project or how she was going to manage her cupcake business orders, I would literally just sit there in amazement knowing that I didn’t have ANYTHING to do with her success.

When Natalie texts me about ideas she has this year as a swim team captain or new recipes she has tried without burning down her apartment, I can’t quite explain it but my heart feels “full” when I get these texts.

My “mom heart” is SO FULL when I think about all the ways God has answered my prayers for my kids.  And then some!

I’ve experienced two totally different college send-offs.  Sure, they both involved trips to IKEA and Office Depot; but more than that, they taught me different lessons about myself.  The very things I used to say half-jokingly to my kids every day before school are  probably good for ME to apply:

“Make good choices!  Don’t do drugs!  Stay away from bad people!”

This morning’s message at church reinforced this.  It was based on the Parable of the Sower from Luke 8:

“But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop.”

As a mom, I need to have faith that the years of seed planting – watered by continuous, fervent prayer – will eventually yield fruit in my children’s lives better than I could’ve planned, chaperoned, or scrapbooked.

What does all this have to do with “running God’s race?”  Everything.  It’s always about perseverance and endurance.  And CHOOSING to commit each and every step to God.  No matter how painful.  No matter how long it takes.  Sounds a lot like a marathon to me.  And sounds a lot like my theme verse from Hebrews 12 [both translations are cool]:

“So let us run the race that is before us and never give up. We should remove from our lives anything that would get in the way and the sin that so easily holds us back. Let us look only to Jesus, the One who began our faith and who makes it perfect.” NCV

“…let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith.” NASB

Sending my last kid off to college was like crossing a finish line of sorts.  Because this time around I chose to focus on all the marvelous ways God has been working in both of my kids’ lives, I could not help but feeling overflowingly FULL of joy for them… and for me.