Its’s one calling that can cause great guilt and insecurity in one fail swoop.
The one calling that tests every ounce of grit and determination you possess.
It swells the heart with pride and love until you feel you will burst.
In equal measure, the pain that comes when our children experience the hardest parts of life, settles in and hurts like Hades.
I have three. I multiply these raw emotions by three.
I don’t know, but maybe you have found a way to insulate yourself. Me, not so much. But, I am learning alongside with my kiddos. Life throws some pretty big curves, but we are stronger.
That is what we learn.
Last night, I had the joy of listening to my oldest speak to a group of students. He is passionate about “loving on” people. That’s his phrase. It’s a way of life—offering grace and hope to anybody who needs it. He heads out to his university, grabs coffee and “loves on” students. He’s built for it. He’s good at it. He’s all about it.
If any person has the right to build up walls and isolate themselves, I guess it would be this kid of mine. He has stared down some pretty big giants in his life. This man-child, who is really an adult now—turning 21 very soon, but always my crazy kid—has had enough challenges to last a good while.
But, this only seems to spur him on even more.
Bullied, abused, isolated and rejected.
And all from a Christian community. It’s hard to swallow. It’s tough for a mother to watch. It tears at your insides and makes you angry. Trying to figure out what is it that made him such a target. I don’t know. I still don’t have answers, other than, those folks needed help. He just got in their way.
The last seven years have been full of challenges and victory for him, for us.
Hurt and healing.
Despair and hope.
But, this young man of mine is a fighter.
He fights for justice with a vigilante spirit. He’s strong-willed—and thank God for that. He’s not a lay-down and surrender sort of guy. Which, by the way, made for some unique parenting days! However, I’m truly grateful for that strong spirit.
Back to last night.
I watched as he held the attention of each of these junior and senior high schoolers. He related to them from his heart. He did what he loves to do the most. He shared hope with those kids. He spoke their language.
Sitting there, a realization hit me square on.
This one I grieved over and prayed for.
The night after he told us about the abuse, I laid outside his door. His life, our lives blown apart by another person’s selfishness. The evil that had invaded our home. It all rolled through my brain as the night lay dark and long.
I was afraid. I was afraid this child would not survive this.
Fear and lies gripped me and laid hold of my heart. I was afraid to leave him alone. And to my eyes, he seemed wounded and shattered beyond repair.
But, we did what we do best.
We rallied and fought…together.
Prayer and help and love and care.
We all worked together. This family of mine. God did what he does best. He restores. He isn’t the God of a half-baked job.
He is the God of the very best order.
No slipshod or faulty duct tape fixes here.
He is the very best at total healing and complete restoration. I wouldn’t leave that to just anybody!
So, sitting there, it occurred to me there might be other Mommas whose hearts feel broken beyond repair and hopelessness has set in. Something about this child of yours—this love wrapped up in skin. Your heart is beating to the rhythm of their hurt.
This is for you, my friend.
Life isn’t easy. Life isn’t fair. Bad things happen—to the ones we love the most.
Sometimes the very worst.
Or sometimes, they struggle, but can’t seem to find the right paths, no matter where they look.
They are looking in the wrong places. Maybe they don’t like the answers you’ve been giving. It doesn’t really matter where the pain is coming from.
If there is pain, our hearts break.
Perhaps you can’t even see the light with this one.
You would just like a tiny spark of hope.
Let this be that.
Know that God is good at what he does. We don’t have to be him. He’s got it.
Rest that child in his care, and take a rest, yourself.
This is a weight too heavy to carry on your own.
If we love our children this much then how much more must God love them?
Take hope from my broken and busted heart for my shattered child. I had a drop of faith to believe God could do something.
That is all it takes, dear Momma.
He knows the beautiful soul of your child and all he was created to do and be. God is big enough to restore it to completeness. Nothing missing, nothing broken. I held onto that for dear life! And I witnessed it in action just last night.
Why don’t you, too?