Wednesday, July 6, 2011

To everything a season.

To be a mom is to somedays feel like this dandelion.
When the formative years of life have long since passed by,
the season of having a child within your reach nearly everyday is gone.
To look upon their face,
to hold them close in your arms.
To see their fears and struggles in their face,
and ache with the knowledge that you cannot fix those things this time.
To look upon them and marvel at the life you long ago created.

To know that as you send them off to the next stage of life,
they may never return to you.
It is now their season.
You wonder if you did anything right.
Did you teach them all they needed to know?
Did you teach them to be the kind of human being
who will be respected and honored?
Did you teach them how to love and be loved?
You know that God heard and felt every tear drop that you shed on their behalf.
Once again it is a season to mourn.
Now you mourn their leaving.

The eagle builds her nest with down covered thorns
to encourage her eaglets to leave when the time is ready.
A mother's duty is to raise her young so they can leave.
Will mine leave with the gentleness of the rose
and still have the thorns that they need to survive in our world today?

As they wend their way through rose gardens and weed patches,
may life treat them kindly.
May they have trials so they appreciate the blessings.
May things not come easily to them,
rather let it come to them with honest work so that they learn to appreciate.
May the rose patches always have a weed or two in them,
lest they forget humility.

As a mother watches her young one begin their path,
knowing it is now their season,
she prays.
She prays that God will be their guide and their fortress.
She feels the bittersweet that her own mother must have felt.
She knows that she will shed more than a few tears
at this leaving.
Yet she will smile.
For she knows that her child will find their way,
just as she has.
Her child has courage and strength,
along with a strong will.

God speed to you my child.
May He hold you in the palm of His almighty hand,
and may you always remember that it is He who directs your path.


Susan Stevenson said...

It is so hard to send our children off into the world. My *baby* left home at only 17 (joined the Marines) and I remember feeling like my heart was ripped from my chest.

It does get easier in time, but you never stop longing for those days when they were still under your roof, always within reach for a conversation, a hug, or just to look at as they slept.

Keilah said...

Ah, Anita, I think I feel an inkling of what you feel. I'm only sending my second off to Kindercamp, but all of a sudden time seems to have crept up on me. She's so ready, but seems so young. Did I teach her everything I should have? Is she ready to be on her own for the day? Bittersweet moments these are, when our kids spread their wings. Your post reminds me to cherish these days with my young family before they are gone.