My children, our life is a journey that began the day God formed you within me, and at that very moment–even before your hands had taken shape–He placed your hand in mine. This journey that we travel together is one with many road blocks. The path winds, it gets hilly, and occasionally I get lost.
From the minute I knew I was going to be your mother I squeezed your hand tightly and don’t ever want to let go. Already there have been times when you’ve tried to peel my hand away but I hang on with a fierceness that stems from my strong love for you. It breaks my heart when you try to walk away on a separate path but it only makes me fight harder for you. You see, it’s not about the journey–it’s about the destination…
My children, sadly, sometimes my eyes don’t focus and I do lose my way. When I get lost, I try pulling you along with me. Many a time have you pulled me back to the path! God uses my love for you to help me keep focused. As we continue on this journey there will be more times when one of us defiantly attempts to pull away.
My children, I beg you, hold fast to my hand. Stay beside me. We’ve gotten tired and we will again. We’ve been led astray, we’ve lost our way, but the light we have in Jesus led us back to where we are today–still traveling, plodding along…Occasionally cranky, yet often smiling…Chatting away, but now and then crying…the speed limit on this road is awfully fast and I just want to slow down, but it’s a conveyor belt and we keep going.
Ashamedly, there have been times when I wanted to let go–be it ever fleeting (not even long enough to unclasp our hands). It was my sin talking, not my heart. If it were only up to me, unfortunately, our grasp would have been splintered like a broken toothpick long ago. There’s an invisible force keeping us clenched whether we feel like it or not at any given moment. My children, that “super glue” is God…our heavenly Father’s loving hands enfold our own as we travel down this beaten path trying our best to follow the beacon that is Jesus.
Sometimes I stumble and you help me up.
Sometimes I stumble and you kick dirt in my face, laughing.
Sometimes you trip and I sigh impatiently, too rushed to see the tears starting to fall–too distracted to understand that if I had slowed for that curve you wouldn’t even have fallen.
Sometimes your legs give way and I’m able to c atch you and soften your landing. My need to be able to comfort you is strong, as is my need to be needed by you.
There will come a day when you will need to let go of my hand. If I can’t see it, please be gentle when you unfold my fingers. When our hands separate, may our paths not. Stay the course. You can lead–I can follow. That’s not what matters.
Meanwhile, I’ll do my best to miss the potholes in the road and to slow down for windy spots but I know there are times when I’ll fail. Please forgive me. Know that even when I do, I still really love you.
You will one day let go of my hand, but I’ll still need some claim on your heart…When you need a little space while we travel along, speak up–but with thought. Remember, I need you, too. I’ll need you as much then as you need me now to brush your teeth, change your diapers, and dry your tears. You may be little now and your needs simpler, but that doesn’t mean that I take them more lightly. Things will get more complex, but I’m more than invested in seeing out this journey with you. When God sees fit to end it for any one of us, remember that we will reunite in peace, joy, and perfect harmony on that final day. Our weariness will vanish, the sweat of our labor wiped away…instead we’ll find ourselves robed in glory, sitting in the lap of our heavenly Father, singing, snuggling, rejoicing…You be there. I’m telling, not asking!
Lord, see us through this journey. When we go astray, come with us. Firmly clasp our hands and guide us back. When it’s time for me to gently let them go give my hand a squeeze. When they’re too tired to make it up the next hill, go behind and nudge them on their way because having Mom do it might be just too uncool. Whether it’s time for a sprint or a marathon, keep us fueled by the promises in your word. Give us plentiful drinks of your living water. Feed us the bread of life.
My children, being your mother is the hardest but the greatest thing I’ve done in my life, and it’s more than worth the effort. Remember that–especially when we hit one of those speed bumps. I will fail you at times when I don’t know the proper way–when I grumble instead of be gentle or snap instead of be silent…when I want to grab the steering wheel from shotgun when you’re just learning.
My children, the greatest blessing you will ever know lies in heaven. Heaven’s at the end of this journey. Though you sometimes may just want to get away and I might want peace along the way (just for a moment!)–it doesn’t mean that I want YOU to go away. You stay near. At least stay here, on this path, and I will see you again. I will always feel the warmth of your palm in mine, even if it’s just a memory. I will thank God for our time together–the good and the bad–as I thank Him for the hope we have even at our hardest times.
You see, my children, our hearts will forever be entwined, even if our fingers aren’t. You are my heart. It beats for you. Don’t fight it. Rub the blur from your eyes. See the love in mine. After all, it’s a mere reflection of God’s love for us all. Even if for only a moment, pick up my hand and squeeze it, so that I am reassured that we’re still in this together.
Thank you, Lord, for my children. No matter what comes our way, please see fit that they end up IN HEAVEN.