For my daughter’s 12th birthday she wanted a college-themed party. So we loaded up a few of her friends and headed to the Texas Tech campus. We made the girls student IDs with their pictures, gave them monopoly money to “buy” books with, and we printed off a list of student jobs to choose from.
The girls took a personality inventory to get them thinking about what type of major might suit them, and then they looked in the major guide to choose one that sounded interesting.
Each girl got a class schedule and a campus map and they had to find their classes. They had some pretty interesting arguments while trying to read the maps together. It is probably a good thing they have a few more years to practice reading maps before it is their turn on campus for real!
For dinner we gave each of them a debit card and they had to order and pay for their own meal at the restaurant near campus. My husband and I sat at a nearby table watching as they giggled and poured over their campus maps and class schedules while waiting for their food.
Then I caught my husband’s eye and nodded to a family in the corner. They were on campus with their daughter like we were, but they weren’t playing dress-up. They were there for real.
The differences were striking.
That family wasn’t pouring over a campus map—the girl was trying desperately NOT to look like a newbie on campus.
That family wasn’t handing out monopoly money—they were talking about whether scholarships and grants would fund before payments were due.
That girl wasn’t choosing a student job based on what she liked to do—she would have to see what jobs were left after the students who applied first had already chosen the good jobs.
When choosing a major, that girl had more to consider than what sounded fun—she had to consider salary ranges, academic requirements, and job forecasts.
But the biggest difference we saw that day between our girls giggling over hamburgers and fries and the family somberly considering the future is the reality that the day had come.
I don’t know the family, but I can guess a few things about them.
From the moment they heard they were expecting a baby, they had been preparing for her future.
They painted her room and bought a crib.
They gathered school supplies and packed sack lunches.
They mended broken hearts and helped with science fair projects.
Each August brought them closer to this August—the August when she would leave the safety of their home and begin her adventure under a new roof.
This August would bring new people, new classes, new expectations, and new challenges. And this August she would face all those new things largely alone. This realization was sinking in as they sipped their soda in the restaurant just across the street from campus.
I wish I had some words of wisdom for that family. I wish I had some magic pill they could swallow to turn back the clock to recapture those years with their daughter that had passed. But I didn’t.
And unfortunately I don’t have any for you.
The days with your son or daughter safe under your roof may be at an end. But we can praise God together that their days safe under His roof never have to end. Psalm 24:1 says “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it.” He owns the dorm room they will live in. He owns the apartment or house they will be renting. We can trust them to His care.
Dear family, it is time to turn over your daughter or your son to their Heavenly Father. He cares for them even more than you do. Lay your concerns for them at His feet with us. You can download the FREE guide, “How to Pray for Your College Student” at this link http://32prayers.gr8.com/
I am thankful I saw that family in the restaurant. They reminded me just how little time we have before we have to face THAT August—not for dress-up but for real.
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