LETTER TO MY CHILD
If you were not afraid of the BoogeyMan, you would not cry out in the night allow me to come in & comfort you.
If you were never afraid of the throngs of people pressing in on you, then you would never grasp my hand so tightly.
If you had not fallen down & hurt yourself, you would have had no need of my ministrations.
If you did not ever get your heart broken, you would not crawl up in my lap & let me hold you close.
If you were not ever sick, then you would not have needed me to give you medicine, or rock you to sleep.
It hurts my heart to see you go through each of these things, but if they had never happened, we would not have drawn so close to one another. Like any parent, my heart hurts worse when you hurt than does your own. But like every parent, I wait in the background with a watchful eye, ever ready to step in on a moment’s notice whenever things go awry, or I hear your cry. I remind you to please make wise decisions, but then I sit back & watch to see what you will do, for you are your own person. Though I gave you life, I gave it to you to live it your way. Hopefully, that will be in accordance with what I have tried to teach you, because I have seen things that you have not yet seen.
You will become frightened of the darkness that surrounds you, but I will be there to turn on the light, & chase away the shadows.
You will get lost in the crowd, but I will be there to search for you until you are found, & I will hold your hand until you reach safety.
You will fall down, but I will be there to administer first aid, to send you back on your way, & to cheer you on to the next victory.
You will have your heart broken, but I will be there to embrace you, dry your tears, listen to your grief, & distract you until your heart heals.
You will become ill, but I will be there to feed your soul, bathe away your grime, & nurse you back to health again.
For I am your devoted & loving parent. I am fearless & fierce when it comes to protecting my offspring. I am always just a call away. I think of you often, every single day. You never have to question my unfailing love.
My daughter just moved to Oklahoma, & though she is a strong, independent young married lady with two degrees attached to her name, the transition to her husband’s new post has not exactly gone smoothly. From bad weather enroute to her husband being very ill to being notified that their belongings will not be delivered on schedule, her latest adventure has been fraught with misadventures. And this accomplished, organized, faith filled young lady has been reaching out, as most all of us do at times such as that, to me much more frequently than usual. Typically she is too busy for as many communications as we have been exchanging. But alone in a foreign land without a place yet to call home & the heavy mantle of responsibility to care for her sick spouse, she has naturally gravitated towards her childhood source of comfort.
No matter the circumstance, I am always delighted to hear from her, even under less than stellar circumstances, though I wish that every one of her days would be filled with simple successes, rather than terrible trials. So I started writing this letter to her. But a few sentences in, I began to see myself there in my own words.
You see, for the past few years, I have been alone in a foreign land, with a heavy mantle of responsibility, & in my discouragement & fear, I, too have reached out to my source of comfort. In the writing of these words, I found that, though God is portrayed as a masculine figure, I am best able to understand His heart by looking into a Mother’s heart.
There is not anything I would not do for my kids, including giving them the leeway to make & learn from their own mistakes, even though that is sometimes a painful process which is none to easy for me to watch. Sometimes I just want to step in, intervene, & stop them from making those mistakes. But then they would learn nothing from the process, & it is the waste products that come from indulging in the wrong things that sometimes make the best fertilizer to precipitate the most bountiful growth in our lives. And is that not what any parent wants? To see their children, the by products of themselves, to grow, flourish, & produce beautiful blossoms?
I am thankful for the times that I have been there to pick my kids up. I am thankful for the times that God has been there to pick me up. Somehow, though I never thought I would say it, I am thankful for the heartaches I have had, for it is there in those most broken of times that God held me closest in His arms. He will do the same for you.
Lou Lehman Sams