“Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are the children born in one’s youth.” (Psalm 127:1 NIV)
When it comes to arrows, I didn’t get a quiverful, I just got the two. I never felt cheated or shortchanged, I felt like I got just enough, a boy and girl and twenty years to spend together. <3
I’ve been blessed with some pretty incredible friends. Early last summer, one of these friends began to suspect that my transition to an empty nest may be painful. She proposed a visit just after I dropped my daughter off at college, bought the plane ticket and began counting down days till our time together.
And so I’ve spent the last week with her and her family. It was extraordinary to sit on the perimeter of the chaotic hub of homework and extracurriculars and housekeeping and mealtimes. For me; in the immediate wake of my just-emptied nest; watching a family function ten years in arrears of my own parenting experience was oddly comforting. My friends’ children sport the exact same age gap as my kiddos; just opposite birth order. Observing the four of them at the kitchen table was a bit like looking through the long lens of time and seeing my blonde-headed kiddos; giggling and giving grief about vegetables and bedtime.
Our time together flew by, as time with wonderful people often does. And as I wait for my flight home, I realize my week amidst their household was almost holy.
Looking back, I’d like to think that I put all my effort and energy and attention into loving and leading my two children toward the Lord. But I know full well, I’m human. And childrearing is both daily and tedious. I often felt that I was falling terribly short. Yet, now all I see is grace. Grace for my youthful ignorance. Grace for my incompetence. Grace for my mistakes, which were many.
And now, somehow the snowstorm of childrearing is over. The girl; who I pestered about the endlessly untidy room is gone and her personal space is now spotless. I find myself missing the mess. The boy; who drummed on everything until I threatened to tape his fingers down, has left and all our surfaces sit silent. No moody music pours out of teenager’s rooms and no abandoned shoes are tripped over in the foyer. I’m done fighting to stay awake until everyone is home safe and sound. Nobody walks into the kitchen mid-meal prep to announce “I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?”
The house is empty but my heart is chalk-full of the memories of these amazing people I got to raise. Years of day-to-day living together has decreased to short visits over dinner or coffee with frantic conversation. It’s over and I find myself being so glad that it happened.
I’ve stated it before and I keep saying it, mostly for myself: the parenting responsibility never lifts, it only shifts. Our kiddos push out of the nest and we fall to our knees. This is the season where I get to pray fervent prayers of gratitude; I get to look back at a home life well-lived. My heart is full of thanksgiving that I was allowed to play a part in raising these incredible people; how wondrous! I can look back with joy over the many years we spent together and I can clearly see God’s track record of faithfulness to our family. With that past performance record in hand, I look forward with absolute confidence in my good God. As surely as He has shepherded my momma heart in those childrearing years, He will shepherd my adult children, too.
“Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring are a reward from Him.” (Psalm 127:3 NIV)
Lord, thank You for the privilege of parenting and the gift of perspective. Thank You for appointing opportunities to take stock of our stories and offer appropriate gratitude. You are a good God who give good gifts. Please help us in seasons of emptying; nests or otherwise, may we look to You whenever we feel any sort of subtraction. Please assist us in raising our children and likewise, in letting them go. Help us trust Your love for them as we’ve learned to trust Your love for us. Amen.