Greetings from the Front
Porch. Many of the discussions on my blog revolve around loving and
letting go. That is because I am in the middle of the last season of
my teenager’s lives and a theme that seems to be occurring not just daily but
hourly and sometimes by the moment.
Letting go and loving well almost
sounds like a contradiction. When I think of love, I think of holding
something. If I loved you, would I not hold you? How does this apply
to parenting an almost adult child who is trying to spread her wings and
fly?
My heart hurt as I listened without
fixing. I wanted to hold her and she wanted to be alone. I left her room
feeling defeated. “Did she not need me anymore?” I use to be the one
she would ask for. When she was eight, she informed me by voice message that she
could not walk straight without me. Now ten years later, I am the last one she
wants to share her wounds with. However, the first one she wants to
pick a fight with.
Intellectually I understand the
need for my girl to separate from her mama. I understand the
importance for her to grow up and learn to navigate through her own trials and
errors. Intellectually I understand she hurts the one she loves the most. I
get all that. On the other hand, emotionally, my heart is having a
hard time.
How was I supposed to parent my
child when she did not even want me in her presence? I sat in my room sulking.
I wanted her to need me. I wanted her to run to me. I knew better. I was
fighting with my flesh as my spirit reminded me that the struggle strengthens
the faith muscles. I reminded myself that she is walking straight after all
these years of believing she needed me in order to walk upright like all her
friends.
Rescuing, fixing and enabling are
not love, it is selfish, and another truth I had to remind myself as I realized
I had a choice to make.
I chose to turn my sulking into
thanking. I listed ten things I was grateful for about my almost grown girl. As
I touched gratitude, I found myself remembering the greatest gift ever given to
me almost ten years ago.
When the one who loved me enough to
let me go finally did, my faith grew and my healing happened. I
drifted to sleep counting my blessings and holding tight to the truth that
finally set me free.
A few hours later I woke up to a
soft knocking on the bedroom door. My almost adult daughter who had earlier
wanted to be left alone was now standing at my bedside. For a brief moment, I
thought I was back in the future.
I was ready to find myself looking
into two big brown eyes of my toddler trying to get my attention. Instead,
as I opened my eyes, I lifted my neck, looking up into the face of my girl.
Before I could even say a word she whispered, "Thank you for not trying to
fix me, I love you. “
Both her father and I received her
words as a gift and conformation that all she needed from us was an ear of
understanding and space for her struggle.
This I have come to find
true. Loving someone, enough to let them go does not feel loving at
all. However, if I have faith in my truth, recognize my feelings and
love enough to let go, they will grow.
Chaplain Cris
