Fear is the best fiction writer, and when it comes to our children, we can create some doozies of worst-case scenarios. For some reason, I felt that as long as they were in my presence, I was in control of their fates. Leaving them in the nursery that first time was a big step for me! Would they cry the entire time? Would they catch an illness going around? Or would they even care that I was gone at all for a couple of hours? All were daunting. Then came the first day of school, the first sleepover, the first church camp—all of which conjured up moments where the panic of the “what-if’s” pounced on me.
But nothing prepared me for a teenager driving—alone—or even worse, with a carload of fellow teenagers! Then my oldest became a state officer for a nationwide school organization. It was a great honor, but it required her to travel regularly from northwest Alabama down to Montgomery or over to Auburn University. We are talking about three and four-hour one-way trips, and many times, the return trip was at night. I was a mess! What if something happened?! She’s so young! I have ridden with her and literally gripped the seats! I cannot allow this! Needless to say, my fear-creator was on overload.
I prayed. That’s not even an adequate description. I pleaded, bargained, whined, and argued with God over it all. Then one day, a Bible verse hit me right between the eyes. Job 14:5-6 says, “Since a person’s days are determined and the number of his months depends on YOU, and since YOU have set limits he cannot pass, look away from him and let him rest so that he can enjoy his day. . . .” (CSB) (emphasis mine). The Lord let me know He had already numbered my daughter’s days and months. She could be on the road to Auburn or sitting at my dinner table, and if it was her day, then it was her day—there was nothing I could do about it either way. Believe it or not, the burden lifted, the fear left, and I could rejoice at her opportunity and genuinely say each time she went, “It’s an honor to know you get to do this.”
— Daphne Murrell