"Don't get too far ahead of me!" I shout as I walk behind them. All I can see is their backs but I know they are smiling as one foot makes contact with the pavement, propelling them forward faster than I can catch them and faster than my mother's heart can bear. And I feel the separation almost physically.
I want to reach out and grab her by the arm pulling her back to me, to the protection of my embrace, away from the road, away from any danger. But she is already too far ahead. He can't even hear me any more when I shout his name.
And I love watching them. Their growing muscles extending, finding the balance to master the small scooter, the thrill of speed all over their screams and laughter.
They are headed for the street and my heart skips a beat. But I have given them instructions as to how fast they need to go and exactly where they need to stop and I have to trust that they will. I have to trust that the work I've put before this moment, the practice rounds, the conversations about danger will do their job.
I have to trust them.
They are old enough to do this. I know that in my head but my heart cries out "not yet! it's too soon!" Time flies and does not stop for me. I'm not ready. But they are.
And this will be the dance of our lives. The constant struggle towards independence as I let them go a little at the time, asking the Lord for wisdom to know how far, how fast, and when. Feeling the pain of separation breaking my heart but keeping a smile of my face as I cheer them on. Because this is what they were meant to do: to grow and leave, to spread their wings and fly.
And I am left to trust.
To trust that the years we had with them were rich enough in wisdom and knowledge to make their own decisions when I'm no longer there to shout their names or remind them of my instructions. I have to let go and have faith that the God who brought them to my life in the first place will continue to walk with them as they are forging theirs.
And to pray.
To pray that they will never cease to seek, as they make their own choices, the wisdom of the same God whose help I sought in raising them. Because they know, now in their own adult hearts, that He is the only one who can be trusted to tell them exactly how fast to go and exactly where to stop.
30 comments:
You're bringing me to tears! Such love comes through your words. Their smiles, they're precious!
" . . . faster than my mother's heart can bear." Yep. You said it.
By the way, thank you for so faithfully stopping by over at my place. I've been on the road so much lately and haven't had the chance to stop by and tell you how much your encouragement means to me. You are such a gift, Gaby!
This is beautiful, Gaby! I Fell the same way. I want them to grow up and be independent but it is happening too fast!
So much I can relate to here! Letting go and pulling back, letting go...the dance until we fully let go. Beautiful words flow through your heart!
This is so beautiful and inspiring! It is like a dance the art of letting them grow and learn. One I don't always like. How I wish my babies could stay babies. I love this poetic post!
This line just stopped my heart: "And this will be the dance of our lives. " Yes. What an amazing way to put it.
Oh, yes.. I am doing that dance, too. And it never ends, does it? Your children are beautiful! Keep savoring and praying!
I appreciate your beautiful mama heart here for your kids...and how wise to recognize that transition when they will learn to listen to God for themselves...Yikes...I guess we learn trust along the way with them, yes? Blessings, Gaby :)
It's hard to be a mama, to sit back and trust when it's time. Each stage of our kiddos life comes with something new, more independence, and it's a little scary. But I have to admit, when I am able to let go, it sure is fun to watch their smiles as they discover what they can do.
I love your heart in this post. Beautifully written. A constant dance of basking in the joy of watching them grow more and more into who they were created to be, and the strong desire to keep them safe and protected. I know that I have it all to come but I am already feeling God's reminder that children belong to Him and that parenting is just another lesson in trust for me and a way to know more of the character of my God.
Blessings on your journey.
they are PRECIOUS (and you know i don't usually use capital letters!) and yes, the constant struggle of letting go....
You really captured the thrill and fear of letting our children grow and go with this post, Gabby. love the photos too
Oh, the letting go at any stage is challenging. My oldest son called it "Independence with Training Wheels!" It sounds like you are doing a marvelous job!!!
Yes, letting go is a hard process...all these little bits and pieces of our hearts racing on down the street in front of us...
It is such a dance itsn't it? The pulling and pushing. Beautiful words and beautiful children!
And this will be the dance of our lives...
Publishable post, and I think that statement above should be the title of your book of your many publishable ones. That's a holy suggestion...
You are so right. I'm still dancing, and the little girl that I left in a city not exactly known for spiritual safety is, in my mind and heart, just as little as the grinning duo on the scooters. I call out for her to slow down and wait for me, but she seems to grin over her shoulder and speed ahead.
I have to believe that I taught her well and trust in the God who teaches me daily.
It's a dance, all right.
Wish it were a little less of the "funky chicken" on my end and a little more of a waltz.
It's so hard to let go. I imagined all sorts of things when my daughter boarded that plane for Haiti last month. What makes it bearable is knowing God is with them. I have to trust, knowing God knows the end of the story. One think I've learned about the letting go is that it's Emily's story, not mine. I wrote the first few chapters for her while she was learning to write, but now she authors the rest.
Precious children on those scooters!
Such a sweet thing to say that you can sense my love for them through these words. Then I have expressed myself just like I hoped.
Thank you, Rachel. I know you know just what I mean!
Tell me how you fully let go, Theresa. I'm still learning how to do this and there are times that it scares the daylights out of me.
Thank you, Tesha. I have visited your space and I love your heart!
No, Alicia. I don't think it ends either. My grandmother still dances it with my mom as do I. I expect once you become a mom you are always a mom, even if your child is 68!
It is fun! And it was fun to be let go of when it was us who were the kids, wasn't it? But now I understand my momma a bit better.
Thank you, Chrissie. You're right: remembering that they are his helps to keep things in perspective. When they were babies my husband and I dedicated them to the Lord. We meant that and so we ought to live like it, right?
I know you don't use CAPS. Thank you! :)
I like "independence with training wheels." That about says it all!
I know but you are an inspiration to me so keep telling me how you do it in your blog and I'll keep learning!
You are too much! You crack me right UP.
Oh, Nancy, no thanks needed. I love your heart and your stories. I come and come because you captivate me.
I love how you put this, Pamela: you wrote the first few chapters but now she authors the rest. Beautiful analogy that will stay with me. Thank you!
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