Reflections from a Dad Taking a Daughter to College

I parked my car in the garage last night. And I cried.

For years, that spot’s been reserved for my daughter Jordan. My car remains outside so hers can rest inside. Left-side garage is home for her blue Toyota Corolla.

But no longer.

Yesterday we took Jordan and her Corolla to college at Lipscomb University. Two cars and a family of four departed from Memphis to Nashville. One car and a family of three returned from Nashville to Memphis.

When I got home, I did what I hadn’t done in years: parked my car in the garage.

It was one of those slap-me-in-the-face signs that life suddenly wasn’t the same. And it brought me to tears. As will the empty chair at the dinner table. The empty bed upstairs. The empty seat in the theatre the next time we take in a movie. The empty lounge that is hers when we go swimming. The empty spot where she sits when I preach on Sundays.

Don’t get me wrong. In the past few months I’ve watched one family lay a daughter to rest and another family lay a son to rest. Compared to the monstrous pain of others mine seems minuscule. And there will be more transitions to travel with Jordan.

But it is still pain. And it is still mine. And it still hurts.

When my wife Kendra and Jordan finished setting up the Lipscomb dorm room and it was time for us to leave, I was so choked up all I could do was choke out “Goodbye” and “I love you.” I had known this moment was coming. The way a quarterback knows a sack is coming. And I had been preparing for it all year. But when it arrived, all that preparation left me unprepared. Every tired cliche pumped with fresh life. It was like a kick to the stomach. A knife in the heart. I was like a deer in the headlights. We literally had to leave campus so I could pull myself together, return and take a second run at “Goodbye” where I could say a proper farewell and lead our family in prayer together with Jordan.

I parked my car in the garage last night. And I cried.

But I also smiled.

I smiled because of what stood behind me: eighteen years of awesomeness.

How great it is to be the dad of a daughter like Jordan! What a blessing to have had her at home for nearly two decades! I could start listing the great events of those years and the list would exceed even the greediest child’s Christmas list. At Jordan’s high school graduation party we celebrated many of those moments. It was a celebration indeed!

I also smiled because of what stood in front of me: more awesomeness. Jordan’s address may have changed (at least until  summer break) but my title hadn’t. I’m still Dad. I’ve got a fantastic son named Jacob at home to whom I get to be Dad every day. It gives me great pleasure to be an important part of God’s work in his life. And there will be countless opportunities this year and in later years to enjoy and invest in my daughter’s life. She’ll still need me. There’ll be more terrific times and tough times. And I’ll still be there for Jordan through them all.

And I smiled because of what stood in front of her: a future bright with potential. What joy to know Jordan is launching into a phase in life when she’ll seek and find God and God’s purpose as never before! I can’t wait to see all God has in store for her. She will experience more from God and do more with God than ever before. Sure. I know that not even tomorrow is guaranteed. And I know college is not all summits. There are also valleys. But I also know it was one of the most spiritually formative times in my life. I trust the same will be true for Jordan.

Taking our daughter to college was one hardest things I’ve ever done. And one of the happiest things I’ve ever done.

And for awhile, I’ll be thinking of that every time I park my car in the garage.