With most of my commitments taking a break for the summer, I’ve been thinking a lot about transitions lately. The biggest change I’m anticipating, though, is having my oldest child graduating from high school and leaving for college in August. This week he turns 18 and becomes a legal adult. I can hardly believe it. My husband and I have prayed and prepared for this season for a long time.
As I gear up for his departure, I decided this summer’s blog posts would focus on different key Scriptures that have been personally meaningful to me. My prayer is that I can entrust these foundations of my faith to others, including my son. To kick off the series, I’m sharing a story I wrote several years ago when he was learning to drive. I hope it sets the stage for future posts about foundations of faith that equip us for the road ahead.
I hope you’ll join me this summer as I reflect on what God has taught me through the highs and lows of my journey with Him. And maybe, my son and a few others heading off to college can glean some wisdom to carry with them as they begin the next chapter of their lives. As you read the story, think about what God might be teaching you right now…
Giving Up the Driver’s Seat
The pavement glistens in the weak sunlight as my son and I walk through the parking lot, thankful for a break in the storm. As I dig for the keys in my purse, my fifteen-year-old sidles up beside me and flashes a grin. “Hey Mom, I brought my permit. Can I drive home?”
Looking up at the sky, I try to gauge if the clouds are dissipating or gathering momentum for another deluge. Weather forecasters have been calling the storm an “atmospheric river,” and are predicting we’ll be doused with heavy rain throughout the weekend.
“I don’t know, buddy. How do you feel about driving over the bridge if it starts raining again? Do you know what to do?” I’m trying to decide if this is a good chance for him to gain experience behind the wheel or if it’s dangerous in the volatile conditions. I fret about the long drive and the ten-mile stretch across a bridge spanning storm-tossed waters.
“Mom, I got this. Besides, you always say you want me to experience driving in all kinds of conditions before I get my license. We may not have another storm like this before I turn sixteen.”
He has a point. We are in our third year of a drought and he may not have many opportunities to drive in wet weather. Handing him the keys, I say a silent prayer and think, this is one of the best or worst parenting decisions I’ve ever made.
Buckling myself into the passenger seat, I realize teaching my firstborn to drive is yet another adventure in parenting. From the time he was little, I’ve braced myself for each new transition. When he was only a preschooler, a lump would form in my throat every time we drove by the elementary school he would eventually attend. Milestones like starting Kindergarten and middle school have been filled with emotion for me. Equipping my kids for adulthood means they will need me less and rely on themselves more. This is the way things should be, but it doesn’t make letting go any easier.
A few minutes later, we’re merging onto the freeway when the first drops start coming down. The storm unleashes its fury just as we make the ascent onto the bridge. The windshield wipers can’t clear the water fast enough, even going at full speed. Our lives are literally in the hands of my fifteen-year-old son. I’ve never been more keenly aware that he is in the driver’s seat; I’m just along for the ride.
The car ride reminds me of the way my husband and I have been parenting since the birth of our oldest. Although it has often been tempting to try and orchestrate circumstances for our son who loves order and predictability, we felt this would not equip him to handle difficulties as he grew up. We believe our kids need to learn how to navigate life’s challenges so they’ll be strong and capable people. However, this moment in the car is the first time I’ve ever helped my son navigate an actual storm.
As he drives across the bridge I keep a watchful eye on the road and reassure myself with memories of other challenging circumstances that have been catalysts for his growth. I remember when he struggled with a chaotic classroom environment in elementary school but had ultimately mastered tuning out distractions and remaining focused. I’d never realized how thankful I am he’d learned that lesson until I look out the window at the stormy skies. Behind the wheel, he doesn’t flinch despite the slick pavement and minimal visibility.
The more I think of past challenges he’s overcome, the more confident I feel. When we finally ease into the driveway at home, relief and pride wash over me. My son didn’t panic once on the harrowing drive. I am exhausted; he seems unfazed.
In a few months, this boy, my firstborn, will be leaving home. He’ll launch into adulthood as he begins a new chapter in college. But, if the past is any indicator, I know he is going to navigate the road ahead with the same cool confidence that he did that day on the bridge. His quiet faith, strong character, and unwavering integrity have been prayed into his life since before he was born.
And although my heart aches to think of the day he’ll leave home, I know with God at his side, his words to me in the parking lot that day will still be true: “I’ve got this, Mom.”
I can think of no song more fitting to share with this story and to kick off this series than “The Words I Would Say” by Sidewalk Prophets.