When You Want to Be the Mom That Buys The Houses Across the Street for Her Kids
Last weekend, I had one of those tough parenting days.
My husband, my mom, and I were wallpapering our
entryway/stairwell. We had an eight foot ladder on the middle landing, a plank
going from the ladder to the top of the stairs—a sort of makeshift scaffold.
There was wallpaper paste, rollers, scissors, a razor, and people trying to lay
giant strips of wallpaper straight on the wall.
Naturally, this is exactly where my kids wanted to play.
Addy got asked to play outside, watch a movie, go in her
room loads of times... maybe every three minutes. At one point she was sitting on
the bottom step, and the excess wallpaper got rolled up and thrown from the top
step onto her head. Twice. I could see her, feeling left out, overlooked, like
she was just in the way.
She headed to her room, emerged a few minutes later bearing
a Hello Kitty bag, and headed out the front door.
I just knew I needed to follow her.
She was walking down the sidewalk, barefoot, bag stuffed
full of clothes.
She was running away.
Her words: “Mom, I was just angry and wanted to see what was
out there.”
“Out where?” I asked.
“You know, out there. Everywhere. I want to know what it’s
like. I want to see the whole world.”
I just really really
want to see the whole world, Mom. You can come with me. I just want to see it
now.
Later that evening I found the note she had left for me on
her desk: “I am going on a avencher for
ever. I love you mom.”
It all quaked in me: the idea that my daughter would want to
runaway, the feeling like a failure somehow, the glimpse into my daughter’s
heart of hearts. I flipped back through my memories of her—the precious moments
that seem sacred and holy and reveal the innermost being and childlike faith of
my Addygirl. They are the memories I keep tucked close to my heart, the ones I
ponder. They reveal her sense of wonder, her craving for adventure in the wide world, and her zeal for people and life.
Sometimes, I think God gives us these glimpses into who are
kids are and who He made them to be. It’s beautiful and exciting and sometimes
altogether terrifying. It’s not that I hold the plans for my kids' lives or have
this prophetic revelation of their futures. But I do think God prepares our hearts
as moms. He prepares us so we can prepare them.
One day, Addy is going to pack her bag for reals, hopefully
with her shoes on, and leave my home. She’s going to run after dreams, dreams
that might take her across town or across the globe.
This is really hard to think about.
And that’s the thing about parenting. Sure, it’s hard disciplining,
teaching, being consistent, dealing with strong wills. But it’s even harder knowing
that one day, and really everyday just a little more, I am preparing to release
my child into the world as an adult. Sometimes God gives us these runaway moments
as whispers, “Do you see her, Amanda? Do
you see the desires I put in her heart? You can’t keep her. You weren’t meant
to hold her forever.”
It’s these moments I realize how fleeting and precious these
years are. It’s these moments I want to make time stand still. It’s these moments I fully recognize the weight
of the call of motherhood.
I am preparing my kids for the rest of their lives. This
part of parenting only lasts so long. Each year their need for me changes, and
the sphere of those who can influence them gets just a little wider.
As much as I might like to tuck them in close, wrap my arms
around them, and maybe one day buy them the houses next door to me… I need to
prepare my heart to let go just a little more each passing year. I need to walk
that hard but beautiful road of parent to friend, of boo-boo kisser to
heart-break consoler, of holding hands while we cross the street to hands-and-knees
praying over each adventure they take without me.
I once heard that a child is a mother’s own heart walking
outside her body.
And it just seems hard that the sacred call of motherhood
means having to prepare your children to walk after the desires God planted inside them… especially when those desires might pull your very own heart
thousands of miles from your own body.
And yet in all the painful heart-string pulling, I know I
need to walk this road leaning, trusting my Savior, pressing in everytime I
want to hold tight… because, truly, what I really want more than anything is
for my kids to know God, really know Him for themselves. I don’t want them to walk
through this life beyond the walls of my home leaning on me, I want them to
walk leaning on God
Wherever He would lead.
Is it just me, or is this a heavy topic for moms? I kind of
cried a lot in the writing (and naturally I was in a crowded Panera Bread). I’d
love to know how old your kids are and how you are doing with this whole kids growing up thing… whatever phase of motherhood you might be in. Share with us
in the comments?
By Grace,
Amanda Conquers
