Knowing

It's 11:45 and I should have been in bed a long time ago.  I'm exhausted, and tomorrow morning is going to come quickly.  But the whole house is asleep and I just want to hang onto this feeling of absolute peace and security for a little while longer.  

Tonight I know where everyone is.  Tonight they're all sleeping safely and comfortably in their beds...well, except for Megan who is sleeping in Savannah's bed with her.  Tonight I don't have to wonder how anyone is doing.  I can walk through every room and see them and hear them.  And KNOW.

Tomorrow morning, we will take Savannah to the airport and let her fly all day and all night across the world to England.  Without her phone.  And I won't know...not the details anyway.  

I won't know how the plane ride was, or how she found all the missionaries in the Newark airport, or if she likes all of them.  I won't know how cold it was or wasn't in Manchester or how long the ride was to the MTC in Preston.  I won't know about any of the millions of thoughts she had or the things she ate or the people she talked to.  Until sometime later this week?  or next week?  And by then, I'll probably only get a brief synopsis instead of all the details.  

That's the hardest thing for me about this whole mission...the part where I give up my constant and instant access to all the details of Savannah's life.  Even at BYU, she would text or call multiple times a day to tell me about every test, every interaction, every experience, and every cute animal she spotted on her walks across campus.  I don't think I ever went more than three days without hearing her voice.

I like details...especially the details of the lives of the people I love.  

Tonight, when the Stake President came over to set Savannah apart, he gave her a powerful and amazing blessing.  And the whole time he spoke, all I could hear was the Spirit whispering to me, "Haunani, this will be so worth it.  Your family will be blessed.  Your children will be blessed.  Savannah's children will be blessed.  Stop worrying about the details.  You won't miss a thing."

That's miraculous, isn't it?  To think that I can send my daughter off to Europe with only weekly opportunities for email communication, and I won't miss a thing?  I have no idea how that will work, but I believe He can do it.  

If it were up to me, I would let Savannah take her phone with her.  If it were up to me, I would have sent her to a mission in the United States.  If it were up to me, I would probably have had her just stay home forever and sleep in her bed every night.  It's probably a good thing for her that it's not up to me.  

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord." - Isaiah 55:8

So as I walk through all these dark rooms tonight filled with sleeping children and mourn the loss of this stage of life we're leaving, I also have to rejoice in the exciting plans the Lord has for all of them.  I know He wrote this mission in Savannah's heart a long time ago, and so He will fulfill it in her life exactly the way it will best suit her.  He also wrote HER in MY heart a long time ago and He's not going to let me miss anything important that happens in her life.  

Somehow, over the next 18 months, it will be possible to let go of all the ways I currently KNOW things, but yet still KNOW.  Amazing...

"For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts." - Isaiah 58:9