Monday morning I received a text from the school to let me know my daughter Casiday would be having senior portraits made for the yearbook June 5-6.

Her senior year has not snuck up on me. I have been all-too-aware it was coming since the first time I held her, Feb. 17, 2000.

As of today, I’ve been Casiday’s mom for 6,299 days. And, if my calculations are correct, we have just 373 days until she graduates from high school. Most of the time she will spend living in our home is past us.

Staring down her last year in our home has made me a bit reflective, I suppose. I’ve looked at albums full of photos and re-read page after page in my journals. My heart is full of memories and lessons learned.

I was thinking about the day we brought our beautiful baby girl home. Scott and I fought that morning. I was upset because I had to wear maternity clothes home. He said I looked beautiful and that it was time to go. I cried.

I didn’t really know why I was crying, but I just couldn’t stop. Every nerve-ending tingled with more emotion than I could name. Every synapse in my brain was firing a thousand thoughts of fear and dread and insecurity and doubt. Every beat of my heart pounded with love for this child, our daughter, named for the hope of good plans (Jeremiah 29:11).

Since then, I’ve learned all those fears were – and are! – OK.

Being a mom is a huge job, and it ought to scare us, at least a little bit. As moms we are the molders of dreams and shapers of hearts. God knew – and knows – that sometimes we are going to mess it all up. He knew – and knows – we have no idea what we’re doing. Our fears are real, and He understands them. He isn’t asking us to ignore them; He’s asking us to trust Him with them.

That day wasn’t the last day I would cry for reasons I couldn’t describe or articulate. But those tears, just like every tear since, have been captured by Him.

I did manage to get in the car with that little girl, and I was still on edge when we arrived at that little house on Wilson Lake Shores. Everyone wanted me to be happy, to smile and to push the fear aside. I tried … but I couldn’t do it.

I learned a lesson that day, and it’s one I think we all need to remember: Lean in to the fear because when we do, it will push us into the refuge of the Father.

Our girl is almost grown up and, while they have had various forms over the years, the fears remain. Being a mom is scary sometimes. But I’ve learned to share those fears, let other people in and, most of all, to keep leaning into Him.

And that’s my hope for you as well!