My youngest child left for college a month ago. With the exception of some furniture, his bedroom is empty as a conch shell lying on a beach.
The occupant left. There’s nothing but a hollow space where there once was life.
Gone are most of my son’s clothes, his laptop computer, his Bible, the scent of his cologne. Even his lava lamp traveled East to get plugged into a college dorm.
So I decided to renovate the room. I stripped posters off the wall, and removed the camouflage curtains that I hand sewed.
Then I patched the holes in the wall with caulk…as if keeping myself busy with a room makeover could fill the empty spaces of my heart.
If only moving into the next season of my life was as simple as replacing the fan blades in the ceiling fan.
Years ago, when our two older children left home at the same time, our nuclear family of five was subdivided. The sensation was like ripping a plant out of the earth, and then tearing the entwined roots apart to create three separate, smaller plants.
Transplanting my last child across the country feels like an amputation.
I’m still a mother, but there are no longer any children beneath our roof. I’ve severed my apron strings that held them within reach.
Those thoughts hovered in my head while the ceiling fan stirred the air which brushed my cheek like a child’s butterfly kisses.
This room never looked so good. But new paint won’t bring this room to life.
People make a house a home.
What happens when they’re missing?
I tell myself, come Christmas vacation, my son will return and this room will look lived in again—an unmade bed, socks scattered on the floor, the closet door ajar, a cup of water by the bed.
Family reunions, that’s something to hope for, right?
Isn’t hope hinged to every goodbye? If not this world, then the next….we’ll be together again one day!
“Faith is.the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” (Hebrews 11:1)
I pull the brass chain hanging from the light fixture as the fan blades spin round the globe like planets revolving round the sun.
Who’s the center of my universe? The light of my life?
Have my children and house become the center of my attention…my affection?
If faith is the assurance of things hoped for….what am I hoping for?
Am I hoping my children will move closer? Visit more often? Stay safe? Be happy? Grow strong in the Lord?
“God Himself must be the one object of our hope and trust in our work, our needs, and our desires.
“Just as God is the center of the universe, the one guide that orders and controls its movements, so God must have the same place in the life of a believer.
“With every new day, our first thought should be: Only God can enable me this day to live as He would have me live.” ~~Andrew Murray
When will I learn, its indispensable to meet with God every day in prayer, and allow Him to renovate me.
I can long for the past or fret about the future, but my time is best spent praying for those I love.
So I pray for my children. I pray for my husband of 35 years who walked beside me during the child-rearing years.
And “I pray that Christ will be more and more at home in our hearts as we trust in Him.” (Ephesians 3:17)
Even in this…..season of life.