Since the time Annalyn was two and a half years old, she’s gone to daycare, preschool or both. And she’s loved it. She’s also loved her class at church, various playdates and basically any opportunity to play with other kids.

HOWEVER. Since the time she was two and a half years old, she’s also resisted going into these classrooms. Whether she’s throwing a fit, screaming, whining or just plastering herself to my leg and refusing to let go, she’s behaved as if she DOESN’T like every.single.place. I take her.

Which is frustrating, because I KNOW she loves her teachers and her friends. And I KNOW she’s safe in each of the environments. I know because I’ve worried. If she’s acting like this, something must be wrong! But no. She just has anxiety in that moment I drop her off.

This happened {again.} last Saturday. On the first Saturday of each month, all the leaders in my church get together for worship, vision casting and training in our ministry areas. Annalyn loves going to “Leadership,” as she calls it, and has a blast every month.

But she also refuses to go into her classroom nearly every month. Even though she talks about how much she loves going there. Even though she loves playing with her friends and making crafts and eating snacks and watching Veggie Tales.

Even though.

Sometimes she walks into her classroom confidently, running to join her friends after just a hug and an over-the-shoulder, “Bye, Mommy!” Last Saturday was not one of those times.

After I picked her up and physically placed her in her classroom – looking like Mom of the Year {again.}, if you must know – I stomped off to the worship center, irritated and frustrated.

Of course, the problem with walking into a room with the sole purpose of worshiping God is that it’s darn near impossible to hold onto frustration, anger or basically any thoughts of how the people in my life are clearly out to get me.

As I stood next to my friends, singing Chris Tomlin’s Our God, I tried real hard to hang onto my outrage. It was a lost cause, though. Singing, “And if our God is for us, then who could ever stop us? And if our God is with us, then what could stand against us?” made it clear.

I’m the one clinging to the doorway, crying, “Don’t leave me! Stay with me!”

I like to think of myself as brave and bold, a risk-taker and full-steam-ahead-er. But the truth is, while I could show you evidence to back up those claims, I know how long it takes me to get out of my head and into action. I know how many times I hang onto God’s proverbial legs, begging Him to let me stay and crying about the unknown of the next step.

Is it possible that God feels the way I do when Annalyn pulls this stunt? Does He look down at me, thinking, “For the LOVE! Would you please just TRUST ME for once? Have I EVER steered you wrong? Would I EVER send you somewhere unsafe? Do you REMEMBER the last time? And the time before that? How much fun did you have? Right?! Just. Let. Go!”

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from my time as a mother (and there’s not one thing. THERE ARE HUNDREDS.), it’s that God is an infinitely more patient and loving parent than I am. I doubt He goes from calm to LOSING MY MIND in 4.2 seconds like I do, and I am confident He loves me better than I love Annalyn when she is scared.

Thank God! Thank God for His never-ending patience and all-encompassing love and refusal to settle for second best. Because while I think He looks at me, whining and worrying and refusing to let go of His legs, with love and patience, I KNOW He stills pushes me until I lose my grip and stumble into the beautiful plan He’s made for me.

My recent job change was one of those pushes. But that doesn’t mean the struggle is over. I’m still bracing my arms on the door frame of a couple other next steps, negotiating for more time, more confidence, more talent, more sleep, more anything to make me feel ready.

All the while, God is saying, “Let go. Have I ever steered you wrong? It’s going to be okay – no, better than okay. This is going to be GREAT. Just. Let. Go!”

I don’t let Annalyn listen to many Pink songs, but “Try” is one we both love . . . and sing along to . . . and need to remember when we start whining about leaving our parents’ side.


What turns you into a clingy, scaredy cat?
What door do you need to let go of and walk through today?
You might recall that I’ve written about this before. [As if I needed more proof that I struggle with this!] Check out Fishing for Hope and Just Jump in Already!

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