The Process of Processing
Gosh, it's such a process.
I’m still processing. That’s about all I’ve got for you today.
It feels really uncomfortable to not be able to pull together an assortment of thoughts and feelings, make sense of them, and spit them back out into a concise summary, tied up with a nice shiny bow.
As a writer, I love to communicate via written word. Obviously. But as a human, there are times when this just isn’t possible. After all, some feelings and emotions can’t actually be pinned down or described with actual words, so there’s my current connundrum.
But at the advice of my amazing counselor, I’m accepting the fact that the process of processing can’t be rushed. (Highly recommend processing life in a healthy way with someone you trust!)
For now, I’ll simply share a little of what has transpired over the last week.
We did it.
We made the 13+ hour drive west and moved our youngest daugher into her dorm room. I was actually so thankful for the distance, because when I woke up on moving day, I knew it wasn’t actually the day we had to say our goodbyes. We stretched the trip across 5 whole days, and I was overjoyed to soak up every last second of that time with her.
As a bonus, our drive from Colorado to Arizona was indescribable. The trip went so fast because there was always something gorgeous to look at. I highly recommend a corner-to-corner road trip through Colorado!
I took this video while riding with our daughter, with just a couple of hours left in the drive. Her signature playlist filled the car and I wanted to capture the moment. I still can’t listen without tearing up a little.
So how am I doing?
As I’m still processing, I’m doing a lot of reflecting on our children and how truly unique they are. God gifted our youngest child with a streak of independence that, honestly, didn’t always look like a gift. She was truly a delightful kid to raise…there is genuinely no trace of sarcasm in that statement. However, it is funny to look back and remember the times when that little flair of autonomy made its appearance.
Like that time she sat on the living room floor in one spot for over an hour, surrounded by a scattered deck of 52 playing cards, because she wasn’t ready to clean up. And we told her she couldn’t leave the room until she cleaned the mess she made. So she just didn’t move.
Or the time when she didn’t cave to the demands of someone else, because she knew exactly what was right and true. There was no ounce of temptation to conform or bend just because someone else told her how she should respond.
I am thankful for the confident independence God has given her, and I pray He will work in her life and use it for His glory. But also, independence can wreak havoc on a mama’s heart.
She’s been at school for a week, and she has yet to need me for a single thing. Not needing help with laundry. Not needing access to funds. Not a trace of homesickness. She’s meeting people, attending campus events, and functioning just fine on her own.
You did your job! She’s right where she needs to be! This is what you raised her to do! Blah blah blah blah blah.
So as you see, “meaningful” reflection of this new season has definitely not made its way to my writing as of yet.
But here’s what I do know already. I’m no less a parent to my children now simply because they’re out of the house. It’s just that my job description has changed.
I’m knee-deep in the “other duties as assigned” phase of this career.
I’m no longer driving carpool, showing up at every event, bringing them Tylenol when they’re sick, serving fully balanced meals at the kitchen table, or giving late night pep talks.
What I am doing is sending them encouraging text messages, becoming a fluent communicator in Instagram reels, engaging in pressure-free phone calls, and praying for them like it’s my full-time job. I’m taking my concerns and fears to the Lord who is sovereign over every aspect of their lives. I’m thanking Jesus for never, ever, ever leaving their side. I’m asking Him to guide and protect them and give them a lifelong faith.
So while I continue processing, I do understand the current assignment. I know that all I am asked to do today is the next right thing in faith, and to keep going to God in prayer.
“This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us”. (1 John 5:14)
Sometimes I make it all too complicated. But really, it’s very simple.
“…pray continually…” (1 Thessalonians 5:17)
I don’t know a single thing about empty nest life. I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know how to do it well.
But I’ll keep praying about it. When I walk past their empty bedrooms, I’ll pray for peace when I don’t know what my kids are doing or where they are at any given moment. (Will that ever stop being the most bizarre feeling??)
I’ll pray I would be a good steward of the time I’ve been gifted to fully process the range of emotions tied to this massive life change.
And maybe I’ll toss in an extra prayer that in spite of having independent, fully-capable young adult children, they’ll think of their mom and dad now and then and send us a selfie on their way to class.