She has surrendered sons who have fallen off bulls, and daughters who fly overseas. She has surrendered sons who've kept surgeons in business and received calls that yes, once again, someone was headed to the ER.
My fear seeps out through the cracks of my words, "How do you do it? How do you let go? How have you surrendered them, Nancy?" I've asked too many times to count.
Her response is always the same: You start surrendering even before they're born.
You give back those you've been given because they're not really yours.
This surrendering and surrendering and surrendering.
Today my first born will walk the halls of the high school as a ninth grader. Surrender.
Today my oldest daughter will enter seventh grade. A transitional year, for sure. Surrender.
Today, my little Ana, will go to kindergarten. Surrender, heart, surrender.
And today, letting go of Gabriel, my fourth, is proving to be tougher than I thought. Surrender.
I am finding that only a heart fully surrendered to the Lord can freely and joyfully surrender the gifts He's given. His asking for them always reveals this part of my heart that is not fully surrendered. I hold them too tightly, I know, believing I can care for them better than He. How foolish.
How many Hannahs are giving their Samuels back to the Lord today?
May we let this first day of school be a reminder that they do not belong to us. They are His.
May it be a reminder that they are gifts to be stewarded and pointed back to Him, not trophies to be displayed in remembrance of how great we are.
May it be a reminder that HE is our treasure, not our children.
Praying for all the Hannahs today, of littles and bigs.