Soon colic paid a visit to our home, and our evenings were spent walking the hallway bouncing, singing, crying, praying. As hard as those days were, my heart continued to be captured by this child. Days turned into years and with each day that passed it became evident that this girl of ours was battling. Change was hard, transitions were hard, unknowns were paralyzing, but when she was in our home we watched her grow and smile, and when she spent time with her "bestie"(her cousin of which she is 42 hours younger) she was always free to be fully herself.
"For God did not give us a spirit of
fear or timidity, but of power and
love and of a sound mind."
Before we knew it, she was old enough to head off to school, and school proved to be a huge trigger. When this is the case for your child, when you work through days and months of putting on a good face in the mornings in order to coax them out the door, when you find yourself peeling them off your neck and handing them over to the teacher, leaving only in time to fall apart in your car, you become indebted to those individuals that step in and love your child well...Mr. Just who sent me pics of her at recess during the day, knowing my momma's heart was hurting. Mrs. Knoll who knew just how to be breezy enough to walk her through situations that would otherwise undo her. Mr. Moran who often stepped in and walked her through the transition between home and classroom. These teachers will always hold a special place in my heart.
The years came and went and in these years our warrior battled on. As hard as some seasons were, there were others that were so very sweet as we watched our baby grow into a beautiful young woman. I'll never forget the shock I felt the first time she walked out of the bathroom with mascara on at the age of 13. Um, where is my child and why am I staring into the face of what looks like a 17 year old!?!?
2 Timothy continued to be my prayer for this girl, and the Father was faithful to fulfill His truth in her life. During her high school years, we began to see a leader evolve. She fell in love with her youth group and within that group found a place of leadership along with a home away from home.
The summer after her Junior year, we packed her up and sent her off to Africa, that spirit of fear and timidity finding it harder and harder to have a foothold. In Africa, our daughter's heart was captured, and truth was once again spoken over her...the truth of being a leader, of having a quiet strength and a sweet spirit.
Heading into her Senior year, this momma was starting to realize how limited our time was. We tried to soak in every minute our girl was home, every meal shared around the table, every conversation we got to have, every time she asked me to rub her back. There was no way to slow time down and Spring was here before we were ready for it.
Graduation day came and we turned it into a weekend including a baptism. We celebrated and remembered and my heart swelled and hurt at the same time. The time we had left with her was limited.
During the summer months I often thought back over all the years, all the prayers, and 2 Timothy. I began feeling as though these verses no longer fit like they had for so long. I wondered about that...
Two weeks before we were scheduled to pack up our first for college, as I sat with the Father, He ever so graciously gave me a new promise for my girl,
"Forget the former things; do not dwell
on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness and
streams in the wasteland." (Isaiah 43:18-20)
These promises were a sweet and cherished gift. As I held them close and claimed them each day, my heart was filled with peace, hope and an anticipation of what is to come.
Friday morning August 18, 2017, Vaughn and I walked onto Tabor College campus with our oldest daughter. As we stood in line for registration, Vaughn turned to both of us and said, "Look, there's your verse." As I looked around, I realized we were surrounded by the words of Isaiah on the shirts of all the student leaders. Do I even have to tell you how seen I felt by Jesus at that moment?!?!
We moved through the line and headed to the dorms. By then, all of our girls were in tow as I'm pretty sure each one would've literally thrown punches and kicks had we told them they could not come along to move in their sister. As we began to unpack, set up and organize the three youngest's eyes began to dance. As they caught just a glimpse of what college life might look like, they began dreaming about their own dorm room some day, to which I had to think to myself, be still oh my heart this life is already moving too fast. I can't even...
I will admit, though, that it was fun to return to the very dorms I myself had lived in not that long ago;). I have no trouble remembering what it felt like the day I moved in and experienced my first real taste of independence. How was it even possible that I was now moving my very own daughter into this place? I am not old enough for this!
(Yes, this is me moving in my freshman year, hair in a banana clip and all. And yes, my father is wearing umbros.)
In all the hub bub of the moment, I looked up and saw my oldest sitting on the bed with her phone. It came as no surprise to me that she was perfectly happy to let the rest of us girls "set up house". The questions, "Where do you want this?" and "What do you think about this?" were enough to make her spin just a bit. Knowing herself, she simply gave us freedom to make the decisions and allowed her sisters to organize until their hearts were content.
The rest of the weekend flew by, but not fast enough to prevent me from giving in to some serious emotional eating. I may or may not have consumed two boxes of Mike and Ike's along with an entire bag of crunchy Cheetos, not to mention the breakfast for lunch buffet in the caf. (Carisa, I promise I've pulled myself together and am back on the bandwagon!) The whole process was taking its toll, though.
However, as we continued to follow the schedule given to us as freshman parents, I felt as though my heart was being tended to by my Heavenly Father. I learned early on in the weekend that the very verses given to me from Isaiah were the verses Tabor faculty and staff were claiming for the entire year on campus. My girl was exactly where she needed to be.
Friday evening as I sat and listened to President Glanzer speak, he asked us parents for permission on behalf of Tabor faculty and staff, to love our children into adulthood. How beautiful is that?
Would it have been inappropriate for me to answer his question right then and there? Because in my head I was screaming, "Yes! Yes! I give you permission...please love my girl well. Please support her and encourage her. Promise me you'll be there when she struggles and celebrate with her as she grows. Tell me you'll make sure she gets enough sleep and makes good food choices in the caf, and please remind her to call her mom at least once a week. While you're loving her into adulthood, could you also make sure you screen any and all boys showing any interest in getting to know her? If you want to shoot me a weekly report on how it's going, my email is taryn.jost@gmail.com.
Of course I didn't say this out loud, instead I made a mental note to simply email the President once I got home. Ok, not really, but maybe...however, by the time the weekend was over I had convinced myself to abort the idea. And yes, for all of those reading this, I do recognize that the President was referring to this exact issue. It was time to step out of the picture just a bit, time to tag out, time to allow another part of the village to play their role in raising our daughter.
President Glanzer went on to recognize the role we had played in giving our child roots, and asked if we would be willing to give them the honor to now give our child wings, and I honestly would've rolled my eyes at how cliche' that sounded, but I was too busy blinking back tears.
This was really happening.
Too soon it was time to say goodbye. We took a final family selfie while we were all still smiling and before the flood of emotions hit. Vaughn and I then spent some time alone with our girl, praying with her, speaking truth over her and really just clinging to the last minutes of having her beside us.
Nothing prepares you for that moment of letting go.
But it was time.
Vaughn rescued the three of us by commenting on how you know you're daughter is ready for college when both parents are sitting on either side of her crying and she is looking back and forth between the two of them with a grin on her face and a look in her eye that says, "Do I really need to be here for this? I'm happy to leave you two here alone to work through these emotions." Because that's exactly how it went down.
Immediately we were rolling.
Immediately we were rolling.
With that, I turned to Tyah Ryan, my firstborn, to the one who made me a mother, to my warrior daughter, our girl of quiet strength and said through tears and laughter, "Fly little birdie, fly!"
To My Girls -- What a new season we are in, eh? Tyah, you are blazing a new trail as the first to leave the nest. We are so very proud of you! We are praying for you, we love you and as always we are for you!;) Kyan, this transition has been hard for you, I know. But, the pain and sadness is a reminder of what a sweet friendship you have with your older sister. I have no doubt your relationship will continue to grow and deepen even across state lines! Aisha and Aleah, your enthusiasm, ability to make us laugh and your tears created such a sweet spirit throughout our weekend. I'm beyond thankful for each one of you. There is no one else Daddy and I would rather do this life with! Please don't forget that when we're the ones getting "older" and considerations are being made to move us "out". We would be more than happy to simply rotate between the four of you! Just kidding...kind of...
