‘Cause really, who else will? With the same fervency and compassion. With the same steadfast heart and committed spirit. Who else but their mama will pray for them with the depth of understanding of who they are and who they want to be? Their daddy’s prayers are full of spirit. They are heart felt and listened to. They are needed and special in a world where daddy’s tend to leave.
But my heart spends hours upon hours with their hearts every day. I tend to those boys, and they purify me. I feed and nourish them, and they swell my heart. I encourage and admonish them, and they challenge and frustrate me. I hope for them, and they bring me joy. I delight in them, so that one day they will delight in you.
And so…I like to think my prayers for them are extra powerful, extra meaningful, extra special. But maybe I’m bias.
Sunday, they ran off under the blue skies with cousins along side. To break free from home and family. To sleep in bunks. To run hard and swim deep. To sing songs by the fire. To wildly converge with their friends, and awkwardly interact with girls.
The distance both tears and mends my heart. I need this break from them just as much as they need it from me. But I still watched them walk away with their confident gait and nervous excitement with a twinge of sorrow. Five days isn’t long, but it’s longer than we’ve ever gone. And I just can’t believe we are already facing these little releases that prepare us for the big ones to come.
Did your heart ache deep when you created a people that you knew would leave you one day?
The time remaining with these boys in my fold is shorter than what we’ve already had together. This makes my heart beat fast and nervous. I think of all the ways I’ve failed them already. How I wish I could go back and feed them avocado instead of all those silly cheerios. How maybe I should have separated these twin like brothers more often. How my anger wounded them, and my distractions shaped them. How I let them watch too much TV, and have yet to teach them my favorite hymns. How I should have given them more responsibility instead of more stuff…
Thank you for spilling your grace all over the things I wish I did differently.
Yet, I have loved them well. I know I have.
I have poured into these boys of mine. Exhausted myself for their good. Emptied everything in me to provide for them. I surrendered my identity when they were mere babies and I’ve never looked back. Sure, there are days I cry, days I complain, days I want to pull my hair out….but I would do it all again.
Is this how you feel about your created people, about me? Like you give and give and give….and then you give some more? And no amount of sin or struggle or leaving causes you regret in the never ending giving of love and grace?
I pray today that I imprint you into these boys of mine. You see, they swoop their hair just like a famous musician, yet all I really want is for them to look like you.
They eagerly wrestle with one another, but my desire is for them to wrestle with ideas of truth and justice.
They aggressively play and fight and run. Oh that they will chase righteousness with the same fervor!
And those tongues of theirs, they use them as swords on each other and it breaks my heart. Will you transform them into tools of grace?
There is still so much to do, so many lessons to teach, so much grace to give. But it’s not more time that I need. It’s more you. ‘Cause they love each other and life with a wild love that I don’t always understand. But I think you do.
Today, I simply ask that in my absence, you cover them with your presence. That you vanish any fear found in the night. And you comfort any loneliness surprisingly discovered in the crowd. In this new environment, among these new people, make yourself known to my boys.
I may be their mama, but you are their God. And I trust no one more than you to love them how they need.
And with every day I have left with them, I pray for the courage to release them. To you. To explore. To search. To grow. To drive. To love. To leave.
For they are yours, Lord. They always have been. From the moment they met…
…until they left for five days.