By Frances George

Sometimes we see more clearly from far away than when we are close in proximity. I know. I’ve watched from a distance of 1200+ miles since my first daughter came to Baylor in 2012 and my second daughter in 2016. And the view… spectacular.

Watching from a distance is not what you think you’d want. It seems counter intuitive. It’s more fun to watch life happen up close, in person. Right?  But watching our students grow and mature from a distance is good. Very good, in fact, and yet it does require certain things from us as parents.

First, watching from a distance requires trust. When I’m far away, I’m not on hand to experience each triumph. I’m not there for the disappointments sprinkled through the four years of growing up that takes place in college. I am forced to trust when I don’t see it unfold before my eyes, when I don’t get the phone call, or when I know I must restrain myself and not call (or text) that piece of wisdom that I am “certain” would make the difference. Trusting when you know a heart is breaking or a disappointment is crushing.  Trusting conversely when the joy is so immense and the first to know are peers… not parents. It isn’t just a blind trust, however. It a trust in One who is completely trustworthy. I can trust, fully knowing that distance is one of His most useful tools, shaping and molding and making a life most beautiful. Watching from a distance is a very good thing.

But so too, this “distance watching” requires not only MY trust but also trusting my STUDENT. Trusting her to walk gracefully through triumph and tragedy, knowing that out of each will be the burgeoning of a young woman, strong and secure in who she was created to be. Both traits found and fostered at Baylor while I stand at a distance.  Trust her. Difficult at times? Yes. But worth it? Without a doubt!

Watching from a distance has its bonuses, however.  When my view is almost exclusively from far away, there is a new and deep appreciation for the rare times when I do get to see up close, in sharp focus and in real time.

This weekend I flew to Texas and drove to Waco and spent three days… for a 45 minute Mother/Daughter event on Sunday afternoon. I got a new t-shirt in the bargain, one that matches my daughter’s! That was it. My sole purpose in coming was to attend this very brief event. Oh, but what I observed in the unscheduled time that filled the remainder of the weekend was so much greater than I could have ever imagined. And it was most telling as the gift of this rare up-close glimpse unfolded outside of the 45 minute event.  I realized it was the distance that made the difference.

On Sunday morning, I saw three young women worshiping next to me at church (my daughter and two treasured friends), each taking copious notes and at the end of the service, as I stood to sing, one remained seated, head bowed, considering in the still moment what she had just heard. Life coming into focus right before my eyes and I had the rare privilege of witnessing it up close and sensing the enormity of the moment, witnessing three young women walking with God.  Afterwards, brunch, with more treasured friends, all telling me about how they plan to spend their summer, serving and thinking well about their future and loving each other well. They call each other “The High Council,” offering wise advice to each other, holding each other accountable on a myriad of topics, some serious and some just plain fun!  These four will make a difference and enjoy great joy in the journey.

The up close glance continued in a mid- afternoon concert with still another friend, listening to the strains of music that brought tears to this old mom’s eyes and when I turned, I noticed my daughter was equally moved, so rich was the text, so ethereal the notes, so perfect the setting. And I was able to see it up close. We looked at each other with a knowing glance. Maturity produces that. It was a gift. It was a rare glimpse provided to me by the One to whom I must entrust my daughter every other day of the year. And when I see life unfold up close and because of the rarity of its occurrence, it makes me appreciate the close-in view as it comes into sharper focus and I watch it with greater intensity.

The clarity of what I see in my daughter lies in stark contrast to the young girl who left home for college three years ago, so unsure of so much but now seeing with remarkable clarity.

I realize the distance has made her a woman in whose image I most wanted her to be all along…His image. And He needed to do this from a distance. Would it be fun to see this up close each day? Of course. But the deep joy of knowing that God worked while I watched from far away and prayed to the One who never leaves her, is even richer.

You see, at Baylor, Catherine has found life, her life. Distance ensures it’s her life, not mine, not even her big sister’s. Catherine found herself at Baylor.

Tomorrow night I’ll resume my watching from a distance until mid-June. But you know what? It’s okay. Because what I have sensed and prayed all along would take place, is actually coming to fruition at this remarkable place called Baylor.

Watching from a distance requires trust and letting go. But it’s okay to do both at Baylor. The key, however, is to do it at the right place. Baylor is that place. Won’t you join us? And watch. Soon you’ll see as I have seen for many years now and with not one, but two daughters ….the beautiful Baylor difference.