Prom season brings back sweet memories of raising our four daughters. When they were little, I loved dressing them up and delighted in how precious they looked. That sense of wonder did not fade as they grew older. Even when they became teenagers and began choosing their own clothes and hairstyles, I still looked at them with the same love and amazement.

Life in a house filled with three teenage girls and one preteen could be exhausting at times. Still, when they began leaving home one by one, I realized I was not nearly as ready to let them go out into the world as I had thought I would be

When our oldest daughter got married, she and her husband moved to Atlanta after their honeymoon. She had lived at home through college, so the shift felt sudden. A few days after the wedding, I was in the cereal aisle at the local grocery store and reached for the brand she liked—then it hit me: she wasn’t coming home to live ever again. I had a full-on crying meltdown right there in the store.

I’ve had many moments of loss as I’ve released each of my daughters, letting them move from being “my girls” to becoming mature women. It was painful and not a smooth process. There were rough stretches and plenty of trial and error. But over the years, I began to (unwillingly) loosen my grip, to trust them, and to trust God with them.

When I think of finding the courage to trust God enough to release my children to him, I always think of Hannah. Her story is found in 1 Samuel chapter 1.

 Hannah was one of Elkanah’s two wives, a man from Ramah in the region of Ephraim. While Elkanah loved Hannah deeply, she was unable to have children, whereas his other wife, Peninnah, had several. Peninnah often provoked and mocked Hannah because of her barrenness, causing her great sorrow and distress. Each year, the family traveled to Shiloh to worship and offer sacrifices to God, where Hannah’s pain was intensified by Peninnah’s taunts (1 Samuel 1:1–7).

During one visit to the tabernacle at Shiloh, Hannah prayed fervently to God, pouring out her heart in tears. She made a solemn vow, promising that if God granted her a son, she would dedicate him to the Lord for his entire life. No razor would touch his head, signifying a Nazirite vow (1 Samuel 1:9–11). The priest Eli observed her praying silently and initially thought she was drunk, but upon understanding her devotion, he blessed her and prayed that God would grant her request (1 Samuel 1:12–17).

God answered Hannah’s prayer, and she conceived and bore a son, naming him Samuel, which means “I have asked him of the Lord.” True to her vow to God, once Samuel was weaned, she brought him to Shiloh with a sacrifice and presented him to Eli, dedicating him to God’s service for life (1 Samuel 1:24-28).

Samuel was about three when Hannah brought him to live with Eli. After years of Peninnah’s ridicule over her infertility, she has now given up her only child. Her commitment to keeping her vow to God demonstrated great faith and amazing self-discipline. As a result, Hannah was blessed for her obedience and faith in God. After dedicating Samuel to the Lord’s service, she had five more children. Three sons and two daughters. 1 Samuel 2:21.

Jochebed, the mother of Moses, also had to trust God with her child from the very beginning. To save his life, she had to place him in the care of another woman and surrender the future she may have imagined for him. Though she was able to nurse him until he was weaned, she could not raise him as her own.

Stories like Jochebed’s and Hannah’s remind us that releasing our children and trusting God with them are among the hardest lessons a mother can learn. For years, they depend on us for everything as we nurture, protect, and guide them. Then, often sooner than we expect, they begin to move from our arms into lives of their own or, in the worst of tragic conditions, death.

Mary, the mother of Jesus, also had to release her beloved firstborn son. She remained near Him as He suffered on the cross, witnessing His pain and refusing to leave His side. She stayed because He was not only the Son of God, but also the son she had carried, raised, and loved.

Her story reminds us that releasing our children to God is an act of faith. When we are tempted to hold tightly or to control outcomes that belong to God, we are instead called to trust Him, even when His ways are painful or difficult to understand. Our hope cannot rest ultimately in our children or in the course they choose for their lives. It must rest in God’s will and in His faithful love for them and for us.

Does it mean we won’t have nights when our hearts will ache and hurt because they have cut us out of their lives? Does it mean we won’t have sleepless nights when we know they are making ungodly or unwise decisions? Does it mean there will not be days when tears of grief will flow like a river from our eyes? No, no, not at all.  What does it mean? Friend, it means we are loving mothers, and because we are, we suffer agony over our children. Believe me, I am preaching to the choir.  Yet, because we are, most importantly, daughters of Eli Shaddai, we must live by faith, not by emotions. This can be exceedingly hard, but His word assures us, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28).

“God has dealt to every man the measure of faith” (Rom. 12:3).

“But without faith it is impossible to please Him: for he that cometh to God must believe that He is, and that He is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him” (Heb. 11:6).

So by faith we commit our children, our emotions, and our future into the hands of God, and we walk in faith knowing God is a rewarder of them that diligently seek Him! Nothing is impossible for God!!!