As we approach the end of the school year in our district, I had a surprising realization.  Our kids are old enough now that we expect them to keep up with assignments, tests, and projects.  We keep an eye on grades each quarter, but the expectation to work hard and do your best is already established.  And each of our children had tough years this year:  one in a grade notorious for being academically rigorous, the other making a transition from elementary to middle school.  But even in the expectation of challenging years, we also put a lot of trust in our children to make it work.

So, imagine my surprise, as we talked about this being the last week of school, when I realized how much tension I had been holding in my chest for our children to get to this point – to successfully complete the school year.  I had convinced myself that I had put the onus on them to be responsible for their own experiences and successes.  And yet, as I’ve been releasing a 9-month held breath of tension, I realized perhaps I’ve been holding on more than I was willing to admit. 

I talk a lot about free will when I offer pastoral care.  Theologically, I do not believe that God directs good or bad things our way necessarily.  So, when questions arise like, “Why would God let this happen?” or “Why do bad things happen to good people?” my answer is not some explanation about a punishing God, or about predestination, or even about works righteousness.  Instead, we talk about the tremendous gift (and curse) of free will. 

But what I had perhaps not realized until this week is my understanding of God’s relationship to free will.  Honestly, I had sort of thought of God as cut off from the decision to give us free will – sort of “you made your bed now lie in it” mentality.  But as I observed my own physical reaction to the relief of the end of a school year (where I had supposedly totally trusted my kids’ free will), I wonder if God mourns along with us when the exercise of our free will leads to negative consequences instead of positive ones.  I wonder if God is sometimes holding God’s breath until we make our way through the ups and downs of life.  I’m not arguing I would ever want God to take away our free will.  But somehow imagining God’s heart as God’s children figure it out has given me a lot more appreciation for the cost of our free will – and perhaps a lot more grace for my children as I watch their journey through the ups and downs of life too.