A Not So Brilliant Thought

When I was a young, engaged, 21 year old, I read a book called Engaged. Engaging title, huh? As you would guess it was informative about a couple's relationship before and during marriage. This, of course, included parenting. There was a statement in the book that really struck me then and is the only thing I remember about the book to this day.

Here it is: Raise your kids to get rid of them.

Wow, I thought. How brilliant!! As a young woman who was out and on my own, I completely agreed. I didn't want my parents unduly holding on to me and keeping me back from the next chapter of my life.

Fast forward 26 years. Sloooowly please. And what have I done? With my man, of course, we have a raised a young man and gotten rid of him. Our 21 year old son left for VA today to embark on the path he believes God has set before him. He has carefully packed and planned the 12 hour drive. He has a bedroom rented and a job waiting for him on Monday. He is ready for his next chapter.

After waving him off early this morning, my oldest said, "Well, you guys did good. One down."

By His grace alone it has been good. We are proud of the young man he has become and his whole hearted dedication to follow the Lord.

But where on earth did that feeling from the so-called brilliant statement go? Written by a logical, left-brain dominate male, the book's practical wisdom doesn't sound so favorable now. My aching heart and pounding, cry-every-time-I-think-about-him headache confirm that.

What was I thinking when I so openly embraced that statement so many years ago? Certainly not about true giving, lay it all out there motherhood. Certainly not about connection and tied heart strings. Certainly not about family times that are completely crazy and mean nothing to anybody but us.

I was not thinking about what it truly means to be a mother. And how could I since I wasn't one yet? But today and ever since I had my first child, being a mother means wanting to raise kids and not wanting to get rid of them. Why would I want to "get rid of them?"  Sounds so heartless to this very feeling momma.

No, I prefer to think that I want to raise my kids to have an everlasting relationship with them. I want to keep them close in my heart even if I can't have them close in proximity. I want them to pursue the path that God has in mind for them wherever that may take them with whoever walks along with them. If I didn't believe that God had work for them to do, I could not resolve their leaving in my heart and mind.

So, while my son grows and goes, I will be grateful for his journey, praying for his immediate and long term future.

But for tonight and perhaps a few more days to a week, I will keep my emotions close to my heart and my kleenex box close to my hand.  

Life's Hurts

Hurts come in quite the variety of ways. Physical hurts - like how can a scraped toe cause so much pain that you cry? Just because you didn't pick your foot up high enough to clear the shower door frame? And then there are the emotional ones, more painful in their own right. How can the sadness of one of your children's pain feel like your very own? How can you ache for someone that you have never met and seen a picture of? And what about when a dream doesn't happen you feel a real death of sorts? How does this work? How do emotional feelings create such responses? Pain. Tears. Aching. Longing. Death.

A loss happened to someone we care about in our house. He is hurting and confused. And I am crying for him. I feel so bad for him and I can't say that I even know him all that well. But I care for him nonetheless. I pray that he doesn't lose his way. I pray that he can trust God when all seems so unclear. I pray that he isn't sad and hurting...

I don't like hurting. I would just as soon not feeling anything and be totally unempathetic. But I wasn't made for that at all. I feel deeply. Sometimes way too deeply. And as I ponder the why's of hurts and pain, I can only see that what comes out on the other side is what makes it ok. Somehow the miracle of grace comes in somewhere and wraps itself around the hurt - comforting, correcting, and guiding through the pain. Eventually bringing with it the peace that makes it a little better, one tiny bit at a time. Just one tiny bit at a time...

That is what I hope our young friend will stay through the process and receive.