Losing One

                                                                                

           The last twenty five years my life has consisted of birthing, nurturing, and guiding my children into adulthood.  Some might think that raising children is the hardest part of having a family.  I loved my job and do not regret one minute of my sacrificial lifestyle, in fact I miss it.  Gone are the days of teaching the kids how to read, ride bikes and tie their shoes.  No more guiding them through the awkward teenage years of popularity contests, keeping up with latest fashion styles and impressing the opposite sex.  Six years ago my oldest child decided it was time to fly out of the security of our family nest, when she headed to Central Bible College in Springfield, Missouri.  

            Amanda is a headstrong oldest child of three.  When she puts her mind to do something, she will do everything in her power to accomplish that goal.  More than anything in the world Amanda wanted to minister to the broken hearted and share Jesus with the world.  This dream was birthed at the age of eight, eventually driving her eight hundred miles away from home, to a small Assemblies of God college which specializes in training evangelists and missionaries. 

            In the Assemblies of God protestant denomination, there are several ways to become a minister. The first, called Masters Commission, is a path filled with personal mentoring, an on-the-spot, intense experience oriented option in which a person can earn ordination papers after two years.  Due to the high costs of higher education, many young people opt out of traditional Bible College and choose the hands-on experience.  Before making her decision, Amanda made some acquaintances among the Masters Commission youth.  After months of thoughtful prayer and reflection, she decided that this road was not for her.

            Global University is another way to become a minister in the AG church.  For two thousand dollars and a commitment of two years a person can read required books, write papers and take exams via correspondence.  In the end, they receive their ministry credentials.  This is a path that our family, my husband in particular, does not look upon with much respect, partly due to our acquaintance with a man who was apparently able to complete the first half of the program in only three months.  Amanda wanted more for her tuition dollars.

            After considering the less expensive, but more questionable options, Amanda decided to take a higher path by way of Central Bible College in Springfield Missouri.  There she could get a traditional Christian oriented (and accredited) college education, with real flesh and blood professors, and get some hands-on ministry experience. 

Amanda walked into the living room, eyes sparkling and wearing a grin from ear to ear to announce that she had been accepted into CBC.  I was excited for her and yet hesitant at the same time.  Where was the money going to come from to pay for an out-of-state college?  Amanda, my administrative gifted child, comforted us with assurances that she was already working on grants and loans, and our part would be minimal, hopefully only spending money for necessary items.  As her parent I was very excited for her new opportunity, and then again I was very sad that our “table for five” would be finally broken up.  Yet, it is not for a mother to cling to her kids and never let them mature and grow, there comes a day when your hand must open up and allow them to become an adult.

            Two months later, my best friend Barb, Amanda, and I found ourselves racing down the highway toward Springfield, Missouri in Barb’s silver Crown Vic, filled with everything we thought Amanda needed to survive in a year in a college dorm.  At this point, it is important to stress the word “needs.”  Amanda brought only clothing, winter coat, bedding and a couple of extra items, but not many.  All the years of our family experience as lay missionaries taught her what real need was.  Amanda sat squished in the back seat of Barb’s car, beside her survival gear.  She was happy, but although I enjoy road trips, the mommy in me did not want to let go of her little girl.

            Amanda was very excited  about her room-mate assignment, she found out that by the luck of the draw, her childhood best friend, whom she did not even know was going to Central, would be her roomy for the year.  It had been at least nine years since she had last seen Jenna, and she was a bit nervous about how well they would get along after all these years.  Yet on the other hand, it would be nice to have someone from home sharing a room with her.

            Seeing the campus made me want to throw my daughter back in the car and drive right back to Michigan.  I thought, “Mommy you have to let your little girl grow up.”  We pulled up to Central Bible College, a very small campus of five buildings, and found the registration building where Amanda would get her dorm key and schedule of freshmen events for the week.  This college was all about team work and relationships, so the first week was filled with short trips, games and relationship building tasks.  Amanda had never been away from our family of five and greatly appreciated the college staffs effort to make the students feel at home.

            After getting her key, Amanda quickly scooted back to the car to get the first of many loads of her personal belongings.  Fortunate for us, Barb parked right next to her building, so unloading would not be a huge problem.  Ok, the school parking lot was so small that it did not matter where the car was parked; all spots were very close to the dorm.  My world spun round and round as we walked to her new college dorm room.  No longer would I spend a whole day just goofing around with my little girl, she was likely to find someone who would steal her heart from our home; someone who was not likely to be from Michigan.  Letting go was not as easy as I thought it would be.

            Arms filled, we made our way to Amanda’s new home for the next nine months.  As we walked into the side door of the dorm building I started wondering what I let my daughter get herself into.  Slipping the key into her dorm room door, she slowly opened a new chapter of her life living as a college student.  It was as if opening that door actually slammed shut our control of her life and foisted her into an adult world filled with decisions and unexpected trials.  For the next school year I would find my phone ringing five to eight times a day with Amanda’s subtle attempt to keep one foot at home.  Only after marrying Michael did the multiple daily calls stop. 

            As we walked into her room, Barb and I both gave each other a horrified look.  This dorm was very old and not well cared for.  The metal slats in the bathroom were rusty, the bathtub dripped, the box springs were broken and sagging and the mattresses were really bad for any one’s back, even my 103 lb daughter.   Immediately I went on a search of a better bed.  There was no way I was going to let my child destroy her back for the sake of an education.  Some of the girls were carrying in their own mattresses from home, and I noticed a storage area where the school mattresses were stored.  I boldly went in and retrieved the best one I could find, switching it with one that must have been one of the originals from when the school first opened.  Amanda, satisfied with my find, thanked me for being assertive enough to find a better bed. 

            After getting Amanda settled, we walked down to the free meal offered to those who helped get the students settled into their new homes.  I have to say that Aquinas does it better.  Parents are always fed the best food the cook can create, to make a good impression.  Not so with CBC.  It was a pretty poor offering.  According to Amanda, the head cook of her freshmen year lost their job and the quality of food greatly improved the next year.

            With our stomachs at least full, we left the lunch room to go back to Amanda’s dorm room.  We could have stayed later into the evening, as the school planned a BBQ for the parents and kids, but we needed to get back on the road.  Walking into Amanda’s room, I had an overwhelming sense that my little girl had finally entered to world of adulthood.  She was smart; she moved far enough away to help me be able to get use to not having her around.  I prayed for Amanda and tearfully hugged her neck.  She promised me that she would not look at the boys in her freshmen year and would only focus on school work and building friendships.  (She kept her word and didn’t date until she met Michael in her junior year.)  Amanda walked us to the car and hugged us one more time.  Tears streamed down her face; the separation was not easy because we have a very close family and she was opting to remove herself from the tight circle.  Finally she had to walk away from the car or we would never have hit the road.

 Barb looked at me and said, “Dorothy, you know you have to let her go.”  I cried for a bit and then pulled myself together for the long trip home.  Sad to say, Brian lost his career job shortly after Amanda left for college.  I was never able to set foot on campus again, not even for her graduation.  My little girl had to do it “all by herself,” in true Amanda fashion.  

            I have heard many parents actually say they cannot wait until their kids leave their homes.  I loved being mommy.  I loved having my kids, with their chattering voices, at my kitchen table.  I miss sitting around after dinner reading the Bible and singing together.  I miss Brian reading the classics to the kids.  I miss voices yelling “sandwich,” and running to squash together, saying “I’m the bread,” or “I’m the ham,” or “I’m the mustard,” and so on.  Maybe next time Amanda comes to visit I should try yelling “family sandwich,” or “group hugs,” to see what happens.  It makes me wonder if that memory gives them the warm fuzzes too.