I always wanted to be a mom. Growing up, I loved playing with dolls and practicing for when I had babies of my own. But one thing I never practiced was how to let go as they grew. I took joy in almost every aspect of raising my boys. And at times I even prayed for the next stage to come quicker, but I didn’t know how to prepare for the day when they’d be grown.
I rejoiced in their accomplishments—celebrating as they learned to talk, walk, read, and write. I enjoyed getting to do for them, the things my mom had done for me—walking them to school, being a classroom volunteer, even years of carpool. I took pride in the fact that they came to me with their hurts, their joys, and their fears.
Most of all I reveled in the time spent with my sons. I loved the individuality of each of them. God really showed off when he made my boys. They had the same parents, lived in the same house, but they were all as different as could be. Each one has amazing strengths and abilities beyond anything I could hope or imagine.
Then came the day when one of them decided to join the military. I saw with fresh eyes the young man he’d become and I took pride in his willingness to serve. I also felt the weight of fear from what that service might require of him.
As much as I wanted to stand between him and the world, wanted to go back to the time when I could tuck him into bed safely each night and pray as he slept, I knew it was time to let him go.
So when you see those men and women who serve in our military, say a prayer for them. And remember, no matter how brave they look and courageous they act, they’re still our babies.
