“With the help of the Lord, I have brought forth a man.” (Genesis 4:1b NIV)
I shared on this scripture a few weeks ago, right after Mother’s Day. On the hundredth or so time through the first chapters of Genesis, this particular passage hit different. I recognized Eve’s fear and reliance and eventual gratitude in childrearing. I recognized it because I have lived it. The successful raising of humans is an impossible task apart from God.
I want to revisit this verse today because I spent the long weekend rejoicing in and relocating our young adult daughter. On Saturday and Sunday, we celebrated. Sarah graduated the first (and most formidable) year of Master’s Commission. She can (and will) return to the program in the fall as a second year leader, but the first year completion is the major milestone. In the awards ceremony and celebration service, the leadership chronicled their adventures, shared insights, acted out dramas and gave God glory. It was a joyous time: seeing our Sarah on stage singing her heart out in agreement with God’s goodness. I can remember a time not too long ago when she was bitter, anger and uncooperative. Happy tears abounded on Saturday and Sunday.
Then our boys went home — they each had work while Sarah and I stayed to tackle the herculean task of transitioning her from school to camp. Procrastination and full throttle in the MC ministry program had kept her from preparing for the adventure to come. Monday morning meant sorting, packing, loads of laundry and lots more tears as she and her friends parted ways for the summer.
Turns out, Sarah was apprehensive about the next season. She hadn’t set foot on the campground before yesterday and didn’t know a soul, save the Zoom interview a few months back. We spent all Monday and Tuesday prodding her toward it: finalizing paperwork, rolling clothes into her suitcases, loading up the car and assuring her of the soundness in her decision to serve as recreational staff over the summer. By the time we offloaded her things into her roomy, lake-view cabin and said our goodbyes, I was done in: physically and emotionally.
This morning I am reflecting and am reminded of the Last Supper on the Moon and how it takes 11,000 pounds of fuel per section to push a rocket off into space. To put it into perspective, that is two million times the rate at which fuel is burned in the average family car. I wonder, how much fuel does it take to push a child out into the world?
I look over our journey: the joy and tears and effort of the last four days (and truly, seventeen years) and I’m reminded. As moms and dads, we have an amazing opportunity to partner with God in parenting. Truly, this job is impossible apart from Him, but exhilarating beside Him.
Additionally, I consider how rockets shed their components the higher they climb. Eventually, they break free of the earth’s gravitational pull and almost no more fuel is needed. They travel in space on momentum alone. This feels like a powerful metaphor for parenting: lift-off requires so much effort initially. But also, the further our kids go, the less of us they require. My (older) son actually started a new job yesterday, too, but all he wanted was prayer and few supportive texts along the way.
There is a dying to self in parenting that I have experienced in few other relationships. Nothing has grown me up spiritually so much as motherhood. I agree with Apostle Paul when he writes how women are saved through child-bearing. Mothering has remade me: far more selfless, faithful, long-suffering and unconditional in my affection.
This morning I have to trust that my baby girl is still soaring. I can’t see her. Like the good folks at Nasa, she’s been reduced to a blip on a screen and occasional rudimentary communication. But I believe in the One who is plotting her course and I’m learning to let go in stages.
“But women will be saved through childbearing — if they continue in faith, love and holiness with propriety.” (1 Timothy 2:15 NIV)
Lord, thank You for allowing to partner with You in raising people. Today we recognize the tremendous thrust required to push them out into adult lives. we realize the impossibility apart from You and we delight in Your cooperative effort with our flesh. We entrust our jettisoned sons and daughters to You: knowing You have the power and authority to oversee the trajectory of their lives. Please continue to craft us into moms and dads how look and think and act like their Heavenly Father. Encourage us as our kids learn to soar. Amen.