Tag: big families

Trying to Let Go Gracefully

The end of this week my almost eighteen year old is heading off for a ten day mission trip overseas. It will involve canoes and rivers and remote areas. I can’t say that I feel warm and fuzzy about it. 

Years ago when this child was an infant I was at church and during the worship service God gave me a vision. I saw a world globe that was dark and my viewpoint was from Tennessee and I was watching bright shiny stars shoot out from Tennessee and go all over the world. And I knew those stars were my children. And it was a vision I needed at that time. 

My husband and I are both second generation missionary kids and when we got married we felt that call for a decision on us. Are we going to follow in our parents’ and grandparents’ footsteps and find our way to the mission field too? We explored the idea but neither of us felt called. We loved other cultures and travel and living in new exciting places, but did not feel a burden to become ministers of any type. So, when I had a vision of my children going out into the world it felt like confirmation. WE are not going to go out, but we’ll prepare our children and they will go out. 

We have often talked about adventures and travel and missions with our kids. Think outside the box. Do daring things. My oldest moved to Maine: Good for you, be near relatives, pursue your dreams! The next child joined the military: God protect my son in Jesus’ name. The next child moved out and has been feeling her way around a career and talks of being a foster mom when she is older: I’m so proud of you! And then this child comes along. I’m off to serve in the inner city for the next two summers. Ok, be safe. I’m going to Columbia. Ok, your dad will go with you. I’m off to Honduras. Um. Ok, now hold on a minute. Is this safe? How am I going to communicate with you? Can’t you wait till you’re eighteen? And I feel myself balking. I know this is what my daughter has dreamed of, and the trip is as safe as any trip can be. And she’s walking in God’s calling on her life. But this is getting hard. Letting go of my kids so they can go off and live their own lives, going out into the world to be a light wherever they are. This is not easy. 

Having multiple little ones at home for so long, I have often comforted myself…One day they will be eighteen and head out into the world and I will no longer be in charge. There is an end in sight. Yeah. I was really wrong about that. Sure, I no longer cook their meals, do their laundry, drive them places etc, but the amount of stress and worry I have to battle as I watch them from a distance as they strike out on their own, it feels equal to having a bunch of little ones running around the house. Maybe heavier.  

Lord, protect my children, draw them close to you. Let their lives bring glory to you. 

And help me to let go gracefully, and trust that you’ve got them. 

And let them know that I am so proud of them. 

When You’re Just Not Feeling It

I’m not feeling it today. I woke up with a headache this morning that didn’t go away till the afternoon. Then starting about four, I was so tired I could hardly keep my eyes open. But I had to, because this night is my husband’s shop night and so I was on my own to get kids to bed. I fell asleep in the two year old’s bed, because he wouldn’t go to sleep and I finally gave up and just laid down on his bed and went to sleep myself. It must have worked because I eventually woke up and he was asleep next to me. I dragged myself downstairs, remembering that I hadn’t finished my blog for the next day. I started one this afternoon. All about perfectionism. And I just reread it and I feel like I’m preaching. And I just don’t feel like preaching today.

I want to write down funny stories about what my kids have done, but my sense of humour has been a bit strained lately. I would like to be poetic or lyrical. Nope. That’s not happening either. Today is just one of those days where you just keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep moving.

There were a couple sweet notes in the day. Eating lunch on the deck with my two little boys and my husband who came home from work. Giving my six youngest children the job of moving our humongous trampoline from one corner of the yard to the opposite corner, a journey that was long, and involved getting around a lot of obstacles. Not only did they rise to the challenge, but they managed to work together cheerfully and with lots of enthusiasm. So, now you know, teamwork building project: have your children move a really big trampoline. That cheerfulness even lasted all the way to bedtime, major bonus.

Let’s see. Other good things that happened today…I got to help my eight year old daughter practice a couple songs on the piano and started teaching her a cute little song to sing for our musical evening that’s coming up soon. I got to sit out in the sunshine and fresh air while I watched my little boys playing in the yard. I exercised today, despite my headache.

I thought about some good things. Pondered perfectionism. Questioned the meaning of life. Daydreamed about what my children would be like when they were all grown up. Enjoyed reading a book by Linda Nichols, “In Search of Eden”. I recommend that book and any of her other books. She’s a really good storyteller that mixes gritty, harsh reality with amazing grace.

I will conclude with one little snippet about perfectionism. I am a closet perfectionist. I feel like a good day only happens when my house is spotless; I’m full of energy; my children are all perfectly-behaved, content, and well-adjusted. Today wasn’t really any of those things (aside from the success of children moving a trampoline). But, looking back, I have to say. It was a good day. Full of flaws: headaches and messy houses included, but it’s ok. The day doesn’t have to be perfect to be good. What makes the day good is me being able to stop and notice the goodness tucked away here and there. It’s a good day when I take the time to be thankful for the small things.

I guess it was a pretty good day after all. And the best thing, I can now go to bed. 🙂