Wednesday, December 30, 2015

Her Farewell

A missionary farewell is a strange day for a parent. First off all, I want to take my people and squeeze them all together forever. United time is ticking away. So our family unit becomes extraordinary in all it's ordinary ways.

You watch your child stand at the church pulpit and teach. She also bares testimony of truth, especially her truth. And as a parent, your heart is so full of pride and sadness and hope, so all you do is cry. You look at her in awe and cry.

And then she sings. Oh, when she sings. My heart tries to capture every word and hold it close. Because music is ingrained into her very being. And when I watch and hear her, I am caught in her beauty. I am reminded of her unfailing example of what it means to be a righteous, warrior of a woman.
It is such an honor to be this girl's mother. I was created for her, and she for me. And for the next 18 months we are both giving our hearts to the Lord. Mine is in letting her go. Hers is committed to teaching the Savior's truth. Noble, and honorable, and great, but also hard. Pretty much the perfect recipe for growth.

I gave Sam a necklace for Christmas. It's titled, "The Ties That Bind". It's five perfect circles centered inside one another. The 5 rings represent the 5 of us. This family of ours. For we will be with her with every step she takes and every door she knocks on. We will be right there on the hard days and cheering for her on the glorious days. And every night when she lays down to sleep, we will be right along side her holding her together with our love. What a mission for us all.

Santa Rosa, California is getting one awesome Sister Missionary.


Rani Halliday said...

Sweet friend! What a phenomenal daughter you've raised I love her! Her talk was great...her song-angelic. Your post eloquently states what us missionary mom's feel. Love to you!!

Stamp With Linz said...

Your best post yet. xoxo

Kristin Baker said...

Beautiful post. I can hardly imagine what it will be like, while at the same time, I am realizing I will likely be going through this myself before Sam returns home. Hugs to you all!

Mads Powell said...

Lisa I've read this post so many times and I'm always doing fine until you say, "And then she sings. Oh, when she sings," and that's when I lose it, every. time. I have a theory that I will never make it through reading this post without crying at that sentence. I am so thankful you raised such a beautiful daughter because she's my person, the one I stayed strong for when it was hard because I didn't want to hurt her, the one I called first whenever anything happened that I felt needed to be shared with another human, the one I credit my sassiness and strong will to, the one I plan on growing old with and living as roommates in a retirement home when both our husbands have passed on, still causing everyone so much stress and anxiety while we mess everything up. Thank you for raising her and for bringing her to this world and for accepting me as her best friend (other than you, of course, because no one comes before the Queen). She's amazing.