Thursday, October 4, 2012

Mothers Ed.

 A few weeks ago, I picked up a drivers ed manual for my oldest daughter Emma. I can't believe she is at this place in her life...

Or better yet... 

I can't believe I AM!

Somewhere between driving her home from the hospital and handing her the book, she grew up.
15 years had passed since I marveled at how tiny her feet were when I held her for the first time.

This past Wednesday, I told her to brush the dust off the book and sit down to review it with me. I opened up the book and flipped through the pages. I called out double line meanings and studied the street signs only to discover she wasn't paying a lick of attention to me.

At that moment in her life, she had decided it wasn't important enough for her to even make eye contact with me. For a girl talking about all the road trips she is going to take once she magically gets a car with an endless gas supply, anything else seemed more interesting.

So I stopped. I took the book and began reading it. How nice would life be if instead of delivering a placenta at our childs birth, out popped a manual. Specifically catering to our new little baby.

I know, I know, I hear all you screaming at your computers right now saying " WE DO!! WE HAVE THE BIBLE..."

and thats great and all trust me. My bible gets more use than any other book I own. I rely on those words and pray those words.

The New Testament is filled with scripture about asking God for wisdom and waiting on the Lord. Trust me, I have been there! This past summer was filled with instances that required me to just lay in His presence because my mind was too frazzled to form a word.

Wisdom has been asked for, and given for years. He is always faithful.

But Im thinking more along the lines of clear, black and white instruction. Between the pages of that Holy book lie a few chapters catered to my Emma.

For instance:

1. Follow thy highway. You have the right of way for homeschooling.
2. Yield at public school and turn left.
3. Do not pass SC. Parallel Park and sit for a while.
4. At age 17 proceed with caution to Such and such college.
5. caution sign on boy #3
6. BIG RED X on boy #4
7. When light turns green on boy #5
8.Hand her over... she is free to go.

It does a mother good to know that her childs life will be protected. Moods can be deciphered and at the end of the day, it will be well with our soul.

In reality, life wouldn't be much fun that way and our growing relationship with God will never be as special as what we have now if our life were laid out in a manual.

But oh how many fewer wrinkles we would have.

A dear friend recently told me how nice it would be if we could secure our childrens futures and shield them from all mistakes. 

But mistakes are how they learn.

But what about us??

The moms.

How do we learn to let go? How do we not jump in front of every moving car and protect them from every scrape and fall this world has?

Even though it has to be done,

How do we actually, physically, let go?

I guess I do I know what has to be done...

I just don't know how to tell my heart.

I've heard moms say that they know when "Its time." 

And I know that God, in His perfect wisdom, has made it that way and will give us what we need at the time we need it.

And until then, its my time to continue speaking truth into her life while she is still under my roof.

Im still pressing them upon her heart. They are still talked about when we sit at home and when we walk along the road. I have tried, in my imperfectness to still tie them on my hands and bind them on my foreheads. ( Deuteronomy 6:7-8)

But soon the day will come.

I know one day we will all be gathered around the throne worshipping our Lord. Our hard life will be over and our hands will be raised. The saints will give praise to the king of kings...

If you happen to look around and see one lady a little more exuberant than most, perhaps dancing and throwing her hands wildly around in the air...

or doing the tango...

That may just be me.

And I may just be hootin and hollerin and thanking God

that it is finished...



  1. 15, wow! My eldest will be turning 10 next week and I find myself wanting to hold on tighter to her. I would love to have gotten a manual when given each child {one specifically for them}, a + b = c would have been so helpful. Fussiness + constant spit-up = dairy sensitivity. Sigh. I understand what you are saying. Big hugs Mama, you are doing such a wonderful job. xo



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