Preparing Your Kids to Fly

My friend discovered a nest in a tree next to her driveway, and she watched it all summer. It was perfectly hidden behind a few branches but easily seen when you knew which ones to pull back. Each time my friend bent one of those branches, she witnessed a new stage of development happening right on cue. Tiny eggs nestled in a warm, safe spot. Momma bird brought food to her pink babies. Fully feathered babies chirped and bounced inside the nest.

One day I was with her as she made her daily nest check. She pulled back a branch, but she didn’t lean in as I expected. Instead, she jumped back in surprise as a baby bird took its maiden voyage inches from her face! She turned to me with wonder in her words. “I can’t believe it! These birds have never flown before!” With her next breath, she told me how she was sure they were ready.

I said those words a week later as we loaded my twin daughters’ belongings into our van bound for their freshman year college dorm: “I know they’re ready, but I can hardly believe it!” While the words squeezed around a huge lump in my throat, they also threatened to burst into an excited scream! It felt utterly impossible. How could I be so sure? The tiny babes who had depended on me for every need now didn’t need my skills or even physical presence to fly. It shouldn’t be true, I thought, but deep in my bones, I knew it was.

I’ve learned to trust the confidence in my gut a little more each time I’ve watched one of my own birdies fly. Our twins are the fifth and sixth of our babies to launch. Every one of them has proven true the suspicions I had watching them as they grew—they have what it takes. Flying is inevitable. The sight of a full-grown bird being fed in the nest by his mommy is a cautionary tale, not an observation of an awe-inspiring creature. In the same way, a time comes when our home is too small for the wing-spreading our kids need to do. The time is coming. We need to be ready.

Introduce your kids to Jesus and welcome opportunities to leave them alone with him.

This process requires more praying than doing from parents. Often it begs for some hands-off not doing while we let them wrestle with God. In the words of my husband, we need to hitch their wagon to a bigger tractor than us. True, personal relationships with God develop deep roots through hardship. They need memories of moments God came through for them when no one else could. Experiences like those do deep work in their hearts but are a hard pill for us moms to swallow. As much as you love your babies and would try to move heaven and earth to help them, you can’t fix everything. You may even cause them pain. Take comfort in this. The thing your heart longs for most, children connected to their creator, can be the beauty God brings from the ashes of our lack.

Let your kids do stuff and make decisions.

While they’re doing, watch them and learn about their unique abilities. Watching will give you opportunities to coach. Your kids will surprise you with their skill and logic, sometimes. My son Trevor hated spelling in elementary school—hated it. We struggled through weekly practice until third grade. One week he had a brilliant idea that seemed ridiculous at first blush. He did the math to determine he could fail every spelling test but still get an A in language arts if he aced grammar. My son asked me to agree to his plan, and I couldn’t think of a reason not to! He used creative, logical thinking and was learning to play to his strengths—qualities I cared more about seeing in him as a grown-up than perfect spelling. My yes surprised me as much as it surprised him, and this plan gave us both a chance to see his capabilities.

Stand back and watch.

My oldest son, Riley, sucked his thumb, and we’d begun talking about the importance of quitting with him when, one night after bedtime, he came out of his room with his beloved blankie in hand. As he placed the blanket in my lap, he asked me to keep it from then on because its softness tricked him into sucking his thumb while he fell asleep. He continued to let us coach him about things into high school. As his senior year approached, though, we realized he didn’t need much course-adjusting from us. He was taking care of business. We decided to loosen the reins even more and spend the year getting an up-close view of how he’d choose to live on his own. His way didn’t always look like our way, but he thrived, and we all grew in confidence.

With a house full of preschoolers, I wrestled with seemingly incompatible stressors. I felt like I would be wiping noses forever even while the tick of the clock warned the time for them to fly was quickly approaching. I could see teenagers and young adults in those little bodies. This tension became my ally as I faced the first day of college as a mom.

Six of my birdies have flown, but I still have two in my nest learning to use their wings. Today, my ten-year-old mowed the yard solo while my husband supervised from the porch. My heart skipped a beat when I spied her alone rather than on his lap as I’d expected. I was able to take a deep breath and remind myself of how it’s been before. Moments like this strung together in a chain will be the reason for my confidence when it’s her turn to fly.

Lori Florida lives a life that is all about her people. She’s convinced that being Mrs. to one and Mommy to eight will be her most significant way to serve Jesus. She wants to use her life to cheer on and coach the women around her. She is on staff with Project Hopeful working to give a hand up to moms in poverty in Ethiopia. You can find her at loriflorida.com.