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Uncategorized, Wayfarer's Journal

A New Stretch in the Journey

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It was a momentous day last Friday. Wendy and I helped Madison pack up our beloved, beatup old Dodge pickup truck (named Tabitha). The forecast was for rain so we wrapped all of Maddy’s belongings and the bed she was taking in garbage bags and plastic tarps. At 7:00 a.m. Wendy and I climbed in to Tabitha’s cab while Madison entered into her faithful Geo Metro, named Squirt, through the only one of the four door handles that worked (front passenger side). We headed for Minneapolis, making a brief stop in Des Moines so that Madison’s mom could give her a good-bye hug.

Madison’s new leg of life’s journey began with the 350 mile trip to Minneapolis. With one minor misdirection (there is a difference between County Road 36 and State Highway 36), we arrived at her new apartment building. We had successfully avoided rain the entire trek, but it began to come down after we pulled under the overhang in front of her building (Thank you, God ,for small blessings).

It took less than an hour to unload Tabitha and Squirt and move all of Madison’s belongings into the apartment she will share with three other college girls. Tomorrow she starts classes.

Wendy and I took Madison to our family’s favorite restaurant, Buca Di Beppos, for a nice lunch. Wendy and I then climbed back into an empty Tabitha for the long trip home while Madison headed to her new apartment to begin the task of unpacking and organizing for this new adventure.

It’s a new stretch of the journey for all of us. I wasn’t sure how I was going to react when it came time to say good-bye. I’m a soft-hearted person and some of these special waypoints along life’s road stir a lot of emotions. I didn’t feel too sad as I hugged Madison outside of Buca’s. She’s ready and I’m proud of her. I raised her to release her on her own path. It is as it should be.

I imagine that the emotion will be felt more acutely in the quiet of the house staring out the door of my home office at Madison’s empty bedroom. There are certain crossroads in life which provide a hard reminder that you can’t go back. I cannot retrace my steps and take a Mulligan on raising my daughters. They are grown. and I’ve played my part to the best of my abilities. Obviously, my role isn’t over. It will just be different. I will watch Maddy Kate walk her own road.

You go, girl.

Wayfarer's Journal

“I’m done!!!”

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22771_1118094252653_1835919990_241087_2740015_n I got the text message on my phone at 12:53 p.m. yesterday: "I'm done!!!"

Madison finished her final high school class. She walks across the stage on Friday, and on Sunday afternoon we gather with family and friends to celebrate her accomplishment and this rite of passage.

Last night was a smaller celebration as Wendy, Taylor, Clayton and I took Madison out for dinner. It was fun to gather and sprinkle Madison with cards, gifts and encouragement. It's fun to watch her finish well and to have all of the fun that goes with graduation. I'm proud of her, and pleased to see all of her well-deserved excitement.

I've been reflecting on this moment for the past few weeks. I'm struck at how amazing both of the girls are in their own unique ways. It's hard to believe that the day has arrived that our youngest is through high school. Parenting changes at a million different stages in a child's development, but this one is a pretty major shift of life's tectonic plates. Letting go is, at once, satisfying and terrifying. You realize in a moment that your child is capable of acheiving anything they set their heart and mind to accomplish while being unbelievably clueless about how life really works. You think about all the things you may have forgotten to teach them, and all of the lessons they will have to learn on their own.

Her path now branches off from mine in a very real way. She will learn. She will grow. The good work God began in her will continue until it's completion. It's all part of the journey.

You go, Maddy Kate. You go.

Chapter-a-Day

Chapter-a-Day Micah 1

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This is why I lament and mourn. This is why I go around in rags and barefoot. This is why I howl like a pack of coyotes, and moan like a mournful owl in the night. Micah 1:8 (MSG)

This morning, as my daughter prepared to go to school, we had a little "come to Jesus" conversation. I'm not very stern by nature and this was a relatively minor issue. Nevertheless, it sure resonated as I read today's chapter. Parenting, I've discovered, requires a discerning mixture of affection and admonishment. Real love is not always gifts, hugs and pats on the back. Love also requires intervention, crucial conversation and consequences. The tough part is having the wisdom to know the difference and apply the appropriate side of love at the right moment (and realizing that you'll always make mistakes).

The prophets of the Old Testament, like Micah, are sometimes difficult to read and understand in a 21st century context. It helps me to consider that God is simply parenting humanity, and the prophets are his mouthpiece. The prophets were the vehicles of God's intervening, crucial conversations with his rebellious children. They convey a Father's stern rebuke and the warning of disastrous consequences. They also convey the hope and love that every parent has for their children – even when they mess up.

Wayfarer's Journal

A Priceless Gift

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12-24-07_1139 Last week, the passage we're studying at church spoke of the hearts of Jesus' disciples being "hardened." That phrase jumped off the page at me, and my quiet prayer all of last week was that God would soften my heart.

On Saturday afternoon, Wendy and I attended the wedding of some friends. As the music swelled and the bride walked down the aisle on her father's arm, I felt strong emotions stirring in me. It was exactly two weeks from the day I would have my eldest, Taylor, on my arm, escorting her down the aisle. As hard as I fought, I couldn't hold back the tears seeping out of the corner of my eyes as I watched the father giving away his daughter.

For the past nineteen years, I think I've had a pretty objective view of my role as father to Taylor and Madison. I realize that my role as daddy has been to instill in them a clear understanding that they are loveable and valuable, and raise them to be capable young women who will walk their own journey faithfully. I realize that God is, ultimately, their Father. I am a steward, blessed with the task of participating in the miracle of their birth, loving them, providing for them, teaching them, and caring for them as they prepare for the day when they head off on the path God has appointed for them.

As I sat in that pew and watched the bride and groom make their vows, my emotions swelled over me like a tidal wave. "I'm not ready to give her away," I thought to myself with sudden realization. This is the most precious gift I could ever give to anyone. Taylor is absolutely priceless, and I'm just going give her away. My brain could argue all it wanted about this being the natural order of things and this being just another waypoint in the journey, but sitting there at the wedding I could feel my heart ripping apart.

Trying desperately to rely on my stoic Dutch genes, I fought back the overwhelming grief in my heart the rest of that day. Evening came, and I couldn't hold it together any longer. The emotional dam burst and I sobbed out my grief on the shoulder of a very surprised and perplexed Wendy.

In the midst of my tears, I was gently reminded of my prayers all that week. My heart of stone had, indeed, been softened so that I could feel this sorrow. "I know," I heard God's Spirit whisper in the midst of my grief, "and now you have a hint of what I felt to give away my Son to a world that would reject and kill him."

The following evening, Taylor and I shared a few tears together as I told her of my experience that week, and my emotions. Despite those feelings, I look forward to this important waypoint in our shared journey. No parent looks back without a few pangs of regret for mistakes made and things left unsaid and undone. Yet, I realize that Taylor was a priceless gift given to my care over nineteen years ago. While my role in her life will never be completely finished, it is time to walk her down the aisle and "give away" that which was given me. Then, to celebrate, love, and support both Taylor and Clayton as they become one flesh and start their journey together.