Letting Go at Christmas

It’s the weekend before the big news. My son applied to Princeton and his early-decision response should arrive next week.

Yes, he’s qualified. The boy is not only insanely intelligent, but bright, sensitive, loving and thoughtful too. But Princeton has more than my son’s personality and abilities to consider. They have a school to fill; a student roster to generate; a package of incoming freshmen which will add credibility, talent and diversity to their university package.

Regardless of Alex’s statistics, there is a randomness to whether he will be selected.

This is where I need to trust God.

I believe God already knows where Alex should spend his college years. I believe God knows who Alex will meet, what Alex will learn, and how Alex will experience his young adult years. I believe it’s not only the education which makes a school special, but the relationships developed, the freedom to explore and the environment to grow as a young adult which factor into choosing the right college.

While I sit on my hands waiting impatiently for results, I believe God has Alex’s plans for good.

Maybe it’s hard to grasp this belief all the way to the core of my being, but I will write and say and read it until I get it.

I’m excited for him but know there’s a bottomless well of tears ready to flood the uncertainties and pain of letting go I need to experience as a Mom.

This is why, during this year’s Christmas season, I wonder what Mary, the mother of Jesus was thinking.

She is the rock star of letting go.

The Bible says she ‘treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart’ when the wise men and shepherds visited. I get that. As a woman and a Mom, I notice things which at times amaze me. All I can do is package up the experience and treasure it, like a personal Christmas gift.

I also get the fact that Mary, in her last stages of pregnancy and the start of labor, wanted an actual room to stay in, not an animal manger. Was she annoyed about the lack of reservations being made by the oh-so-godly husband of hers? They certainly could have enjoyed a nice bed and breakfast with perhaps a birthing room and midwife to help, but instead roomed in a stable with animals and a straw bed. But she had to let go of those desires, too.

Instead, she treasured up these things in her heart. The blessings. The fact that she knew, deep down, there was a bigger experience going on when her little boy was born. He was going to be the Savior of the world.

Now this is a version of letting go I can aspire to.