Trusting Him With What's Mine

This morning was one of those crazy examples of what lengths us crazy mamas will go to for our children.  4:30 am was way too early to be awake let alone out of bed and starting the day.  Rebeka was meeting her "little sister" at Waffle House to treat her to breakfast before dressing her up and torturing her for Anchor Club initiation. 

(If you're curious Beka came up with a costume as a tribute to her new infatuation, Swamp People.  Thanks to Dollar Tree and our creativity it turned out way too cute.  The get-up consists of a gator hat, frogs and bugs for the hair, a green t-shirt with "Queen of the Swamp" on the front and "Choot 'Em" on the back with cattails and green flowers hot glued on, an anchor necklace with more frogs and a gator, a black mesh skirt/wrap with more frogs and swampy flowers, and to complete it we borrowed Johnmark's black rubber boots and hot-glued more cattails and swamp/green flowers all over them. Oh, yeah, and then there's green eye-shadow and camouflage paint for all exposed body parts.  The poor girl has to wear it all day, be ordered around by Anchor girls, do a dance in front of the school during drop off, and participate in
the pep rally.)

But let's back-up.  The initiation isn't what this is all about.  It's trusting God with what's mine (and, yes, I do realize it's all really His).

When we pulled into the Waffle House the parking lot was full with Anchor girls and Key boys and it was standing room only on the inside.  No adults.  Just the kids.  Rebeka was so excited and so were the rest of the hoard.  My mama instincts kicked into overdrive and I started spouting orders and advice - "y'all might want to get breakfast somewhere else, don't be late, be in Mrs. Ealum's room by 6:30, stop at the Tom Thumb and grab something if you have to, have you got money, enough for both of you, tip, be careful..."  As she was gathering her stuff and attempting to listen, she stopped what she was doing and interrupted me with, "Mama, I love you."  It was in the softest tone and translated really meant, "please stop. I'm going to be okay."

So I left her there in the dark surrounded by her friends and peers and began praying instantly that the Lord would keep them all safe, especially mine.  And, instantly, He whispered, "Beloved, she is Mine."  Oh, she is, and I am so thankful.  I just want her protected always.  Always.

I was so tempted to hide in another parking lot and be the creepy, lurking Mama, but this morning was an exercise in letting go (only a little at a time).  Besides, I had to get home and take care of the boy. 

All day I've been so tempted to call her and check on her.  I want to hear about her morning and her day.  But I'll have to wait.  She's working after school today and I'm going out to dinner with some friends as soon as she's home and can stay with Aaron.  The sun comes out tomorrow though as we've planned to go shopping so I can get some new work clothes (Mama's getting a new pair of shoes.  WooHoo).  I'm selfishly anticipating it because it will be just the two of us and she'll be all mine.  Okay, mine and the Lord's.  Well, okay, she belongs to Jesus, but He has let me be her Mama and that's enough.

And, Ann Basey, I know once you read this, I'll be getting an email from you.  This Mama stuff is hard work.