God's Faithfulness in Transition

Our post today was written by Amy Bangsund on her experience of releasing her youngest son to his destiny.

A few months ago, we moved our youngest son two thousand miles to begin his freshman year at Wheaton College in Illinois. And people have been asking me now, “How are you doing?” I think what they mean is, “Are you sad? Do you miss him?” And perhaps even, “What does that feel like?  How are you coping?”  I almost always answer the same way.  I am sad.  I miss him.  This is hard.  AND I have joy.  I like a quiet house.  This is amazing.  Perhaps you can relate, having emptied your own nest either recently or not so recently.  Or maybe you are in the thick of parenting and the whole idea of empty nest is terrifying (or joyous) to you.  As I have begun processing this massive life transition, I am realizing there is actually a lot more going on that just doesn’t fit into a two minute conversation.  What does faithfulness look like in the midst of massive transition and life-change?   I want to begin by sharing something that happened the day before we said goodbye to our son.

We had been on campus for a day already.  We had moved him into his dorm room, met his roommate, bought his books, eaten in the cafeteria.  And the entire time, because I really love the college he is attending, I mostly pretended we were closer to home, rather than a four hour flight from where we live.  I wanted (and still want) to be joyful with him over this beautiful, glorious transition into adulthood.  This was my little coping mechanism.  Not anything unhealthy, but also not something that was going to actually provide peace once we boarded the plane for Portland.  Then I attended a parent-focused orientation session that brought me fully into the truth of this moment and gave me a lens through which I could begin to process it.

I’m not sure who had the brilliant idea of having a session for parents led by someone from the Marriage and Family Therapy department of the college, but I feel like I owe them a coffee or something.  I do not remember the man’s name, and I didn’t take notes during his talk, something that friends and family will not believe.  BUT I was so impacted by much of what he said.  The most meaningful moment was toward the end of his talk when he had us all close our eyes and he read a liturgy over us.  The title was something like A Liturgy for a Child’s Empty Room upon Moving to College.  I opened up my pocket tissues before he even began to read.

My tears flowed freely, unsurprising to anyone who knows me. Suddenly the reader prompted us to take a moment to contemplate all the joy of raising that child in our home.  And my mind was filled with vivid memories of this boy, our imaginative child, walking into the room where I sat, CLEARLY pretending to be something other than a human child.  Snuffling, shuffling and snorting.  Or crawling, caterwauling, and cavorting.  There was no telling who or what he had in his mind unless you asked.  And I ALWAYS asked.  Paul, who are you being?  And he would always share the latest creature his imagination just HAD to imitate or embody.  And I would marvel at his creativity and celebrate him.  “That’s AMAZING! You are so fun!”

As these sweet memories passed through my mind, I felt the Holy Spirit whisper to my soul, “And now you get to ask him a different question.  Paul, who are you becoming?  And you can marvel at his creativity and celebrate him.”  I’m so grateful to our God who meets us in our sorrows, not to quench them or deny them, but to remind us of how He works in and through them.  How might Yahweh meet you in the sorrow of your current season?  What reminder of past joy could be an invitation to present joy as you transition from one season to the next?

 I have been miraculously able to see HIS faithfulness and I feel like it propels my own small moments of faithfulness.  Surrendering this boy to Yahweh, again, as he struggles with his first cold while living in a dorm.  Praying open-heartedly about his future, trusting the Lord to guide and direct him toward a major and an eventual vocation.  Listening to the Holy Spirit’s leading for how many texts from me are too many texts.  😂  All these small moments of faithfulness coalesce into an experienced peace that is clearly not of my own making.  Yes, my youngest son lives very far away.  AND I have a peace that passes understanding, a peace inexplicable to myself and others, a peace that is both a product of faithfulness and a producer of faithfulness in me.  Because I see that happening as well.  Little bits of faithfulness produce this peace in me which then leads to more little bits of faithful living.   I wonder how small moments of faithfulness might bring peace to a transition in your own life.   

Just this morning I was going back through my summer journal, looking for something COMPLETELY different when I came across an entry from just days before we took Paul to Wheaton.

8/8/26

Yesterday Paul and I sat on the deck of Jet Black Coffee seeing each other deeply.  The conversation was so rich and lovely.  And I saw that the grace of God over our parenting of this child has been profound.  God, YOU have been faithful and consistent - we were not.  YOU have shown steadfast love and abounding grace - we did not.  YOU have listened patiently and advised wisely - we have not.  You raised this amazing young man.  And I am so, so, SO grateful to You.

We leave for Wheaton in four days.  Thank you for going before us and providing Your presence here and there.  We trust You.  I trust You.

Friends, our faithfulness in whatever season we are in is grounded entirely in the faithfulness of our good, loving, gracious Father God.  How might you look for and experience His faithful presence this week?