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This is something I wrote 21 years ago this month. I am remembering the firstborn. And I am remembering that our children are born to leave.

I watched my son clear out his room today.  You see he is on his way to college.  It’s time for him to spread his wings and fly.  We’ve spent the past 18 years preparing for this day; kids are born to leave. 

What I wasn’t prepared for was how I would feel when this day came.  My mind rewinds to the day of his birth, and, in a moment I relive his lifetime.  The day he was born, my heart expanded and a new room was added for him only.

The scent of his freshly washed hair after his bath is as real to me today as it was 18 years ago.  His first steps, first smile, they’re all with me.  I remember how I cried the first time my son had a fever, I didn’t know what to do.  I paced the floor and called my mother.  Was he going to be alright? I asked her.  I told her he had just had one of his baby vaccinations earlier in the day. Just give him some baby Tylenol, she said, and the fever would pass, and it did.

When he was 18 months old

We moved to Zaire when he was 18 months old to serve as missionaries.  As we stepped off the small plane that brought us to our new home, my son clung to me as we all adjusted to our new surroundings.  We held one another and cried when we thought of our loved ones at home and we grew to love one another more. 

When my son was born, I didn’t understand how I could love anyone else as much as I loved him.  I found when my daughter was born that the heart has endless room for expansion.  Another room was added for her, right next to the room that was his.

I watched him learn how to share his parents when his little sister was born.  Mom and Dad had been only his for five years, but he welcomed this newcomer with open arms.  He was eager to hold her and be included in whatever she was doing. 

When he was five years old

When he was five years old, we went to France to learn French (French is spoken in many nations of Central and Western Africa where we spent many years).  He was old enough to attend kindergarten.  He was enrolled in a school soon after our arrival.  It was snowing the first day he went to school.  His little hand held tightly in mine, we set off to school together.  As I left him that first day, I began to understand that our children are born to leave.

After our time in France, we moved to Burundi.  He went to French school every day, he spoke French like a little Frenchman!  He went to church in the slums with us and began to speak Swahili with the people.  I watched as this little boy began to enlarge his heart for the people of the world.  He grew and I watched, often forgetting that he wasn’t mine to hold forever, he was born to leave.

I cried

I cried as my boy learned life’s lessons.  Not everyone is nice or kind.  Not everyone has good intentions.  Homework is hard and school is tough.  Bullies are everywhere.  These were his life lessons to learn.  I could only pray, guide, comfort, and watch from the sidelines.

When he gave his life to Jesus I knew that his future was secure.  Only then could I allow myself to understand that one day he would have a life away from home. I knew the only One Who cared more for my son than us, his earthly parents, was His Heavenly Father.  He would take him farther than we could.

Another room

There was another room added to my heart when our third child was born a few years later.  This time my son helped his sister adjust to having a new baby around.  She had to learn to open her heart, and her big brother taught her how to do that.

He went on and learned to play soccer and Nintendo.  Every day he grew just a bit more, going a bit farther from home. I would watch the two smaller ones who still clung to me, but my heart was never far from the oldest as he braved life as a big kid.

He was soon a teenager and learned to take school seriously.  Nintendo and soccer gave way to studies as he began to think of life away from the nest.  As he grew taller than me, I argued with the reality that he wouldn’t be with us always.

He was born to leave but I keep his room

Last year, he graduated from secondary school with merit.  Plans went into motion for the next step – college.  I wept inwardly as he spoke of life away on another continent – North America.

I stand back and watch my son, who has occupied a room in my heart for all his life, as he prepares to take his first steps into adulthood.  He is a fine young man, who loves God and loves the world – he will go far in whatever God leads him to do.  In this, I find comfort.

But as he cleans out his room today, I remember all the things he deposited in the room of my heart and I hold the door to that room shut tight – he isn’t allowed to clean out that room.  That room will remain ever filled with the scent of baby shampoo, childish laughter and tears, and the joy that he brought to stay – forever in my heart.

Lea Peters

24 November 2003