Today I pushed my son into his new school.

Actually, my husband had to pry his Vulcan Death Grip from my arms and wrangle him—feet flailing, backpack tangling, tears waterfalling—into his new classroom.

Then we had to leave, literally just walk away to the sounds of his wailing.

I got into my car and wailed for awhile myself.

We never stop giving birth, do we? We never stop laboring. We never stop pushing our kids into new things – into greater independence from us. I know, logically, that’s where they’re supposed to be. But I must say that today I’d rather be with him—snuggled up with cozy blankets and children’s books and chocolate milk—than to walk away from him, to the sounds of his fears.

An anonymous Facebook follower recently made a comment on my author page. “God is a fairy tale,” he posted.

I don’t know if he was trying to incite something with me, but I do know that CS Lewis believed all fairy tales teach us to long for something beyond our reach.

They point to the only “fairy tale” that is indeed true.

Tonight at bedtime, my son began to open up about his fears from the morning: “I didn’t want you to leave and I was scared there were things in there that would hurt me.”

“But…” He continued, “the bus was so awesome. I wish we had a bus instead of our car. And I made a craft pig out of different shapes. I can’t wait to show it to you!”

If God is a fairy tale, then I’m a believer.

I have faith in a God who helps my son slay his dragons…and who helps me let go enough to let him.

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