The Madness of March.

Today was simply gorgeous. One of those rare almost-spring days when the wind isn’t blowing a million-fifty miles an hour, the sunshine is warm and you don’t need to bundle up like Nanook of the North to be outside for a pair of seconds.

I took some pictures of the graduating senior outside. It was delightful! Outside and of course the graduating senior. I sat in the mostly dead grass while waiting for her to change outfits and troop back outside for more torture.

Or. Err. Pictures.

I promise I didn’t torture her too much. At least not intentionally.

Right now I sit here saying all of this, waiting for my March Madness Bracket to fully load so I can pick my teams, I’m remembering yesterday. You know the fall day I took a pregnancy test and for the first time I passed. I saw two lines that day. In no time at all our little bundle of pink girlie-ness was born and we were smitten.

Then we would hear her muttering in the backseat, “duh-duh. duh-duh. duh-duh. Doh-doh. Doh-doh. Dah-dah. Dah-dah.” And then “dada, dada, dada” over and over until she was confident she got it right and then would announce DADA! to the world as if she had somehow just won the Nobel Peace Prize.

Soon enough I was sitting down with her while her sister slept, who am I kidding? That girl didn’t sleep. But I would sit down at the dining room table with the graduating senior and spend the next few minutes teaching her how to read. She was reluctant and playing with her babies was more fun. Until she grasped the reading concept. She was 3.5. She is now 17 and I don’t think she has stopped reading yet.

A few minutes later we bought an electric piano from some dear friends who were moving out-of-state. I happily asked the graduating senior if she wanted to learn to play the piano. She very matter-of-factly informed me she most certainly did not wish to learn to play.

Too bad for her. I had already arranged lessons. At the first lesson, she was hooked. She hasn’t stopped playing. Right now for the first time since she was 6 she is not taking lessons. It seems somehow very, very wrong. She plays on our praise team and is has put a lot ownership in that.

I don’t know what they are going to do without a keyboardist in August when she leaves. Forget them! I don’t know what I’m going to do without my girl, my side-kick, my fellow coffee drinker, my giggle producer, my Rory when she leaves in August.

Five months. All I have left is 5 months. Five months to instill everything I haven’t take the time or the chance to instill in her to date. All the things I’ve shied away from telling her, all the things I’ve put off, now is the time.

Yes, there is that. But have I instilled a true love of and for Jesus in her? Have I modeled that? I’ve failed in both. I know that. I’ve let my own stinking, rotting self into the picture and let it have it’s run with my thoughts, feelings, and emotions. But still, is there still a chance? Can I still instill it in her?

There has to be. We need more time. The very thing I wished would pass quickly when I was elbow deep in dirty diapers, teething, and potty-training. I’ve enjoyed each stage of her life, each more exciting than the previous one. But I’ve squandered some of the best times of her life.

From this point onward, it has to be Jesus. It’s always had to be Him and about Him. But now my job as her Momma is nearly over, it’s time to let her stretch her wings and fly.

It’s both freeing and fear-producing at the same time. I remember all the first and now I find myself thinking, “I need to do this one last time with my girl.”  “This will be one of the last times we get to do this.”

Things we thought would go on forever, we no longer get to think that. Because forever is only for fairy tales and heaven. Not for those of us alive on planet earth today. We have the hope of heaven but while we walk here on terra firma, things end.

But things also begin. It’s exhilarating to think of the new adventures she’ll have. It’s breathtaking to think of where Jesus will take her and what He will say to her and teach her. It’s intoxicating to think of all the ways He will be so faithful to reveal Himself to her.

Spread your wings, baby girl, it’s almost time. Fly free.