Faith to Face an Empty Nest

Faith to Face an Empty Nest

Transforming Truth:

“And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?” — Matthew 6:28-30 (ESV)

Last summer, my husband and I took a short retreat to camp on the shores of one of our favorite Colorado lakes. We’d camped here with our daughters several times before, but couldn’t coordinate our schedules to go together this year. Our eldest was newly married, and the other two were busy with summer jobs and preparing to leave for college in a few weeks—the youngest for her first year.

After we set up camp, my husband headed into the lake’s mossy inlet on his paddleboard, slowly drifting with his fly rod in hand in search of hungry trout. As I ventured out alone on my board in the opposite direction, I felt lonely in the vastness of the wide-open lake ahead, with no one nearby to share the moment with.

Faith to Face an Empty NestSo this is what the empty nest will feel like, I thought. Just the two of us taking trips to familiar places, seeing glimpses of past adventures with our girls. They weren’t afraid to leave the “nest” for college or marriage—I should be happy about that. Yet my eyes welled with warm, salty tears as I quickly reversed my strokes and turned back toward the inlet and some company.

Once in view, I saw my husband waving his free hand, then pointing toward the towering, thin trees along the forested shore. Nestled into the highest boughs of a nearby tree was a large, snugly woven eagle’s nest—with two tiny heads poking out above its walls! I could hear their animated chirping. Soon, a significantly louder response came from the other side of the inlet, where the trees were thicker and the mother eagle could camouflage while still keeping watch.

I pulled out my phone to shoot some video as the eagle chicks continued their clamor. I wish the girls could see this. New tears began to pool up under my sunglasses. Attentive mother eagles eventually push their young out of the nest when ready, and don’t despondently dread the day they take flight. So why do we call this grief empty-nest syndrome?

Caught off Guard by an Empty Nest

Have you ever been overwhelmed by the impact of a change you thought you were ready to handle? Maybe you’re facing an empty nest like I was, or another season of transition has caught you off guard. It’s surprising how quickly fear can swoop in when your stability is shaken by inevitable change.

Even though leaving the nest doesn’t end our relationships with our children, the loss can be crushing. If we’re not losing those relationships, what have we lost? Truthfully, I wasn’t afraid to let my girls spread their wings and fly, but to lose control over my environment and my role in their lives was another story.

The Father Knows What We Need

Jesus used the birds to illustrate the Father’s attentive care for His creations (Matt. 6:26), which hits home when I consider how I felt about my empty nest. A young eagle being pushed over the edge to take flight is losing one source of food and protection, but the Father’s design provides sustenance and purpose from that point forward. And aren’t our children more valuable than the birds?

Friend, God knows what you need to get through this season of change. He’s not only providing for you now but will go before you to support your next steps (Deut. 31:8, Psalm 139:5).

Although I’m no expert at navigating this empty nest transition, I am comforted by my faith in God’s provision for my daughters and me as we move into this new season. He knows what’s ahead for us, and He’s preparing and equipping us for those changes. 

In the meantime, He holds us all in His protective grip—and that will never change.

Nighttime Prayer:

Heavenly Father, I’m so grateful for the ways you kindly and generously provide for me and my family. When I see birds attending to their nests or confidently taking flight, I am reminded of the intentional care You demonstrate daily to assure me that I can trust You. Help me embrace my new role in my children’s lives and joyfully anticipate what the next season will bring. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Questions for Reflection:

  1. Are you facing or trying to recover from an empty nest? Or are you feeling overwhelmed by another life transition?
  2. What has God provided to help you navigate significant changes in the past? Can you see God working in this season of change?

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Join the Conversation: Has an empty nest—or another life transition—caught you off guard? Share your reflections in the comments section. I’d love to pray for you!

*This devotional was published on Crossmap.com as part of the Daybreak Devotions series.

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