Stop and Remember, He Gave Us Each Other

Today I attended my son’s “Winter Concert” at school.
He’s in the 6th grade.

His once tiny hands are now bigger than mine.
I am in awe at how his thumb completely hides my own.
He stands on the verge of having to look downward,
to be able to look into my eyes.

I look at the wall to my left,
Where pictures hang of a smiling toddler,
and tears sting my eyes.

On the way home from the concert,
troubling thoughts plagued my mind.

Of all the concerts I missed.
For the years I was a single mother,
choosing $7.00 an hour at work over concerts
full of children off pitch and forgetting their parts.

Remembering times I was so exhausted and didn’t want to “play” trains with him,
Of all the times I was struggling with my own demons,
trying to be a parent.

And maybe all mom’s feel that way.
They look back over their shoulder,
and they think,
“I could have done so much better.
If I only knew then what I know now.”

More plaguing thoughts,
The painful ones.
The ones of mistakes. Choices.
Things that I did that directly impacted his life.
Marriage. Divorce. Moving to different part of the country.
Running. Always Running from that Pain,
that Pain so deep inside, I missed how it had become a part of me.

My heart aches.
My stomach aches.
There is a Gripping inside me so tight I can barely breath.
Tears run down my face..

Anger. Regret. Sorrow. Pain.
I’m not even sure.

For this reason a man will leave his father and mother…(from Genesis 2:24)

Before my son was born, his destiny was to grow up.
Part of God’s plan for his life,
to go from baby to toddler,
from toddler to child,
from child to man-boy,
From man-boy to man.

God, (I think) out of His Love and Mercy,
simply allowed me to be a part of that plan.

To love this child, hold this child, and do my best to raise this child.

Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it. ~Proverbs 22:6 (ESV)

I haven’t always done the best job.
Truthfully, there have been moments where I have done
an absolutely horrific job of it.

God Is Sovereign. 

It took me 28 years,
and a horrific storm of hurt,
to finally grasp just the outer edges of that sentence.
To finally grasp it,
and give up that pain.

Because that sentence holds so much.
So Very Much.

God is Sovereign.
In his sovereignty he gave me this child.
And He didn’t stop there.

He gave me a husband.
One who holds me when I cry,
who lets my mother’s heart ache rest on his shoulder,
and then reminds me,
of who I am,
guiding me to truth instead of allowing me
to sit in the guilt, shame driven shadow of who I was.

He gave me a step-daughter.
Whom is also a friend.
Who I love doing girly things with.
Who I love cooking with and hanging out with.

And you see,
in God’s Sovereignty,
He gave myself to my husband,
my husband to myself,
During a pivotal moment in our journey of “parenthood”.
A time when a daughter is a young woman,
and only months away from “adult”.
A time when a son is no longer a little boy,
and every day grows taller and less “child-like”,
God in His Sovereignty,
Gave us Each Other.

Sometimes when we don’t agree on how to “parent.”
Sometimes when we are hurting in this long process of
accepting “Mom and Dad” over “Mommy and Daddy”,
we argue, we lash out at each other,
we forget to just stop,
and seek out our Lord,
and ask for His comfort, His Guidance, His Wisdom,
and His reminder,
That he gave us Each Other.

As the tears dry,
and I train my thoughts to stop looking behind me,
to stop looking at “what ifs”,
and instead to look at
God’s Sovereignty.

His Unbelievable Blessings,
His plan and His will over my own unreliable emotions,
I can accept His peace.

I can look at all He has Given me.
And allow peace and appreciation to fill my heart.

I went to my son’s 6th grade concert today.
And I am so thankful I got to go.
So Thankful I got to watch and video it.
So thankful I got to come home and hug my husband.
So thankful for Jesus,
whom I can cry too,
and who can give me such peace and comfort,
and hope,
and joy.
So thankful for the responsibility and privilege  my husband and I have
of “training up this child”.

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In Love & Faith,
RaZella

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