They walk in the front door bundled up from the snow and cold. As they take off their gloves and hats, they chatter about everything from art class to letter books and wrap it up tightly with confessions of candy eaten on the bus. Life excites them and everything is shiny and new.
Even the hard issues that happen are rolled up in resilience and fortitude to forge ahead. They are protected and unscathed by the world. I will fight to keep it this way. Why? Because I’m a mother.
I will battle on my knees, as long as I’m living, to make sure they stand secure. The world might mark them, but as long as I mark them with Jesus first, they will stand upright. And I pray, “Lord, let them hold tightly to You. Forever.” It’s my job to fill them with love and hope and the promise of security. Why? Because I’m a mother.
There is only so long that kisses on boo-boos and warm hugs can ease pain. I know for a fact this is true. I know that I’m meant to let them go so they can grow – to build the fortress and then leave it for them to guard.
I constantly tell them how much I love them. I tell them they are smart and wonderful and made for things so great, that only Jesus could have designed the plans for their lives. I build them up so strong that only God Himself can allow the walls of their fortresses to fall.
And then I get a lump in my throat at all the walls He has allowed to come down around me. All the wounds I’ve had to carry and how much each one hurt. Yet, after the battle, I’m better. I’m stronger. I’m closer to the living God because the safe walls fell.
And I know that someday they will experience a fallen wall…
To know that I can’t shield them forever is a mother’s burden. But to understand that God is their shield is a mother’s reward.
They were made for holy work and sometimes holy is hard, tear-stained, and lonely. They were made for the kind of true joy that only comes after the mourning. They were made to give their hearts to a God who is always sovereign and provides security, even when every wall falls down.
I know this because I was made for the same.
And so were you.
And, as mothers, our prayers should be that every hurt would lead to holy love from our children’s hearts to the heart of their Creator. We must stop working so hard to keep them safe ourselves, that we forget to teach trust in the only One who secures them safely in His hand.
When I lost my baby daughter at almost 35 weeks gestational, my mother and grandmother could barely stand the pain I was forced to suffer. But God… I made it, and whatever my children might face, they will make it too. I don’t like the fact that there will inevitably be tears I can’t catch, situations I can’t fix, and hurts I might not even know about. But just like God works in my life, I know He is working in theirs.
So, today, I give Him my children to hold and love and keep safe. I will continue the battle on my knees in prayer and will never ever stop teaching them His promises. Why? Because I’m a mother.
May you give your children into the hands of the living God, and may He give you strength to do so…
Love,
Jennifer
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