My girl child is in junior high. In JUNIOR HIGH! I am having the hardest time figuring out how that happened. Father Time is not kind. He steals the moments and years that I grapple holding onto, all the while drawing out the longest days of depression that I repeatedly hurl through an open window, only to have them boomerang back in. And, the sweet, content days of watching my tiny girl grow are no more. Yes, she is still changing and blossoming, but gone are the days when she sang Dora and Barney and Diego, and new days are taking shape with texting friends, and ear buds full of music. She is shifting, and with her- the dynamic between mother and child. I find myself praying for her more and more, as I feel like that is all I know how to do. It makes me weep. Not just a small cry, but a deep tear-filled knot in my throat sob. Am I doing any of this right, Lord? Am I going to mold into who she still needs me to be? Do I just follow her lead, until I finally begin to understand and take shape myself? I feel like she is on a roller coaster, and I forgot to get into the seat next to her. She is riding the waves of life, while I am on the beach, not knowing how to dip my feet into the waters of preteen years and angst. She has new words and a certain way she likes her backpack, and the eye rolls at my jokes that she used to love are almost too much to bear. I never thought I would be jealous of junior high, but I think I might be. It has taken my wee one and given me back a half grown girl, who wants to go shopping with her cross body purse and wallet. Lip glosses and cute key chains and fabulous emoji pillows, oh my! 

I pray that she will always use my shoulder, that she will talk to me when things are tough, and that she trusts the Lord to guide her during this new phase of her life. I will hang on for dear life and just continue to love her for all that she is and wants to be. I’m diving in.