Let go

Lately my grandson Leeland has become somewhat mobile.
I have been enjoying pictures of him making his way across the room... chewing cords, trying to eat out of the dog dish... all that fun stuff.
Soon he will crawl and then walk... and his mom will experience one of her first "letting go" moments.

This fall Ayla put on her backpack and name tag and twirled her way up the steps of a big yellow bus.... for the first time... leaving her mom behind, empty handed, waving "goodbye" through a blur of tears.
Yup. Letting go is tough.

I love being a mom and everything that goes with it...
The sweetness of babies
All the "firsts"
Helping, guiding as they learn, grow... become
Cooking favorite meals
Bending the rules ( we have a few)
Sharing laughter, tears and secrets
Being the "one" they want when they are sick, lonely or heart broken
Finally crossing the border between parent & friend... (maybe my favorite)

Of course there were lots of sad, hard, frustrating and disappointing things along the way.
My heart has gotten a work out... that's for sure.

But... I love it.

Multiplied by six.

I know a bit about letting go.

So far I have had the privilege of watching three of my children mature to the place where our once shared path, diverged ( think Robert Frost ), and they were walking alone.

And as I stand on the edge of another departure, it is bittersweet. And palpable. 

I wonder at God's design... giving us precious babies, allowing us permanent, temporary custody of His children, and once we accomplish our part of His purpose for them, He leads them away...

To a school ridiculously far away... or seemingly so.

Or to a strange, new country half way around the world... to teach English, to share Him, protect our country, or save the world

Or into a relationship that is good, and right, and godly... but leaves us on the periphery, trying to jostle ourselves into our mysterious new position...

After all the years of providing opportunities for their well being... physical, emotional and spiritual...

we are done. 

Well, not completely.

But our job is diminished. 

It's time to open our hands, and let go.

Enter the bittersweet.

During our infamous summer of 1998, one of the many lessons I learned was that my children, are not mine at all.

While my relationship with them is vital to their well being, they don't really need me. 

They need Jesus.
God will do what He wills in their lives and in mine to get them right where He wants them to be.

With me, in spite of me, around me...

While I will always love and be loved by them, our closeness... physically & emotionally, is temporary. 

Most likely, one day they will meet and marry someone who they will unite with in a way that supersedes their relationship with me. 

And that's the way it should be.

  

So I am thinking that my relationship with God is a pattern for parenting...
nurturing, disciplining, loving.
But while my time here, on earth, is necessary and right, it is only temporary.
And while the people I love, experiences that I have had are all real and important,
one day, I will be united with Him in a way that is far superior to anything I have known.
And, when He returns to take me Home,
 I will open my hand,
empty it of all I hold so tightly
and happily let go.

Meanwhile... I will savor the bitter, along with the sweet.