If it were not so, I would have told you...

Have any of you moms sent your child off to college? Or maybe you've stood in the driveway as they loaded their belongings, slammed the trunk, and headed off to chase a different dream. I've experienced both. These were wonderful moments in my life. I wasn't one to try to hold on to the past. I was always anxious to embrace the next phase. It excited me.

But one thing was certain, in each of these transitions, I had been involved in the plan. Research had been done. I knew exactly where they were headed and was well aware of the date they'd leave. While I experienced true joy in watching them move forward, I had no real peace in my heart till I saw their new home, experienced it first hand. Can you identify?

The day Tara left for college I was on an airplane. She and her dad packed all her things and hit the road without me. My father had died two weeks earlier so I'd been in Tennessee helping my mom figure out this new life without him. She needed me.

But no way was my baby girl going to spend one night in a place her mom hadn't thoroughly checked out, inspected, and signed off on.  I hopped a plane and headed back to Florida, with my mother's approval, of course...she certainly understood. After picking me up from the airport, Billy, Tara, her little sister, and I headed to Palm Beach Atlantic University.

After thoroughly interrogating the R.A. (Residential Advisor) about curfews, etc., I felt a little bit better about the situation. But there was much left to do before I would release my grip entirely. I began my mother's work...wiring -check, carpet condition - check, bathroom fixtures and privacy - check, counter space at the sink and mirror - check, condition of mattress - check, security code at the elevator - check. On and on it went until I felt satisfied that in this place, my precious daughter would be safe and happy.

Back at home, any time I'd start missing her, I could simply picture her environment and because of that visual image, was able to feel excitement rather than grief. I'd seen her there. I'd seen the smile on her face as she perused her new home.

I remember the day we all waved good-bye to Aaron as he drove away with his recruiter and headed off to boot camp. We stood in the parking lot and cried. While they were tears of hope rather than despair, I found no real peace in my heart till the day of bootcamp graduation when I had my first opportunity to see the environment he'd been living in. Yes, I had to check out his room. I had to see where he'd been sleeping, where he'd been eating. Every detail was so important. I can remember being fascinated by the NEX (Navy Exchange) and being so happy to see where he bought his snacks. Crazy, right?

On and on it went through move after glorious move. Aaron lived the most exciting life known to man. And with each new conquest, each deployment, each transition of home away from home, I would literally beg him to send me pictures if I couldn't get there physically to see it for myself. I needed to see where he was. An accomplished, fearless Navy SEAL to the world, but to me...my first born son. My heart demanded I be able to scrutinize his environment in order to feel connected to him...to know he was in a good place.

Descriptions didn't satisfy.

And now...I'm called to a level of faith never before required of me. What I can't see, I must trust. "In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you."

Perhaps it's because I'm a mom...the keeper of the home, the ultimate decision-maker on the physical environment, the nest architect. What does it look like? Where does he lay his head? Is his room decorated with all his favorite things? Are there pictures of his wife, his children, us?

Yes, there are many descriptions of heaven in God's word, but descriptions still don't satisfy.

This, I guess, is the true measure of faith. To be content in whatever state you're in. I don't think Paul was only describing contentment in the context of wealth or famine. Perhaps the most difficult place to find contentment is in unanswered questions.

Whatever your "faith need" is today, I promise He is able to not only meet your need, but keep you content as you wait. I urge you to read Philippians 4:11 again, or maybe for the first time. Heck, do yourself a favor and read the whole chapter.

In everything, give praise.