We climb,
so they can rise.
We hold them close
to set them free.
Sometimes, we too,
grow wings.
As my oldest son prepares to graduate high school and go off to college in the fall, I find myself feeling extremely sentimental and reflective, called to write for the first time in years. My focus is rightfully on him lately. Amidst an endless stream of emotional coming-of-age events including prom, senior nights for all his musical and athletic activities, awards ceremonies, graduation parties, and more – I am starting to feel a sense of closure about his transition to adulthood.
However, I notice – while he’s been growing up into the beyond-my-wildest dreams kind of person I hoped, prayed and believed he could be, so have I. I also need closure for my own journey of transformation. Raising a child (especially this one, who came into my life like a blaze of fire) from six pounds to six feet is a big deal. I too have grown.
Like prayer, the work of motherhood is valuable, essential and worthy of our attention.
Like prayer, motherhood matters in an invisible way. Tiny acts of love go unnoticed even by ourselves after a while. We fold the laundry, we show up to support, we provide an encouraging word, we lean in to listen, we call them out, we teach them how to fend for themselves, we affirm their inherent worth and make their favorite meal – acts of service so natural we think nothing of them, yet so valuable in the development of a human being.
These next few weeks, my primary focus will continue to be on my son in this special time of his life – but, this post is for me and all the moms, who have poured their hearts and souls into their kids – a blessing as we graduate from raising them and cross over into life with an adult child.
I was a stay-at-home mom for 14 years. It was a calling that was strong and persistent, yet I wrestled with from time to time. I always came back to it with deep love, commitment, passion and gratitude. The tasks were often mundane, and some days could be lonely and full of frustration. But the joys were truly divine and the feeling of being able to pour out love and respond to his needs without constraints or restrictions on my schedule was a great luxury, the memories of which I hold as a treasure in my heart.
I was there for the priceless early childhood moments – to make sure he was safe and loved the way I thought he deserved to be, and it meant the world to me. Even though I didn’t get a paycheck or much validation from the outside world and I sometimes felt marginalized because of that, I was rewarded by his twinkling joy. His sweet energy and pure enthusiasm about the little things in life was a balm for the deepest wounds of my soul, which I reluctantly carried into motherhood with me. Deep down, I felt it was important work and it was the best thing for our family at the time, given our unique circumstances.
I was there through the messy middle school years of finding himself, doing my best to soften the blows and guide him on straight paths. Now a busy working mom of four, I am there to celebrate the fullness of who he has grown up to be and holding on to every moment as a precious jewel.
When people choose to climb Mount Everest, they know they need a sherpa, a support team, a base camp to rest at before the ascent – it’s all planned in advance, part of a process mapped out by the brave souls who went before them.
When people choose to become parents, they get a party with a lot of cute clothes and congratulations. Somehow, I didn’t get the message of what motherhood is really about – the steep climb, the deep test of character and perseverance; the planning, logistics and patience required. I assumed I was fully equipped, but I had no idea what I was getting myself into.
As a mom, I struggled to find my footing with mixed messages of what was expected of me by the pressure of “perform and post” culture verses the calling to be present and prayerful, seeing parenthood as more of a spiritual journey, which was my natural inclination. I couldn’t always see the path clearly, as motherhood brought up trauma of other losses I’ve experienced in my life, and I had a lot of deep inner healing work to do. I made a lot of mistakes and fell down a lot of slippery slopes, but I got back up again. I was committed – I learned how to breathe, how to be creative and how to build a support network. I learned how to be patient and cultivate a deeper connection with God through prayer.
People pay good money, risk their lives and suffer to climb Mount Everest for a reason-the views are epic and worth every step. The highest heights in the world. To me, family is the very best that life has to offer and worth climbing for. Through every peak and valley, motherhood is the adventure of a lifetime and my greatest blessing, by far.
Looking back, I marvel to see how much of my prayer life is rooted in the deep vulnerability of motherhood. My love and desire to protect my kids from suffering, more than anything else, is what brought me to my knees in a quest for a God with the strength, patience, perseverance, joy, energy and abundant life I wanted so badly for them. Everything I’ve written about on this prayer blog and more all flowed out of a desire to bless the little humans God blessed me with.
Of course, in spite of my best efforts, they have suffered anyway – growing up is hard, and I have learned to grow spiritually through accompanying them through their trials, which has been a blessing as well.
While I wasn’t able to find enough time and energy to change the world outside of my home as much as I longed to do while the kids were little, the rhythm of motherhood pulled me into a deeper interior life, a sense of the importance of God’s presence, a realization that world peace starts within and unity with God should be the top priority of our lives, regardless of whether that union manifests in external accomplishments or simple quiet prayer and offerings through mundane details of our days. Faithfulness matters. An awareness of grace and prioritization of the Holy Spirit in good times and bad is a gift that motherhood gave me. What other love could have brought me into such a deep space of surrender?
Seeing my son grow up into the kind of man he is affirms to me of the value of prioritizing prayerful presence. I know I can’t take credit for him – he is his own person, who arrived with his own (incredibly bright) light. Truth seeking, passionate, encouraging, loving, smart, kind and hard working – he has earned his own reputation by actions and achievements and contributions to those around him.
But – I can’t deny I did something too, a lot of somethings that matter and add up. I have invested my love, prayers, encouragement, guidance, wisdom, courage, patience, strength, time and energy into him. When I was tired, when I was lonely, when I was scared, when I was going through seasons of heartbreak and shock of my own – I always put him first to the best of my abilities. I loved him fiercely, researched how best to support him excessively, stormed the heavens for him relentlesslly and never gave up on him, no matter what he was going through or how badly the odds were stacked against him.
He’s not perfect and neither am I, of course. But that doesn’t lessen the importance of the fact that he carries my love and dedication to praying for him in his cellular memory because I poured it into him, all of it – every drop I had. All the quiet days when no one was watching, when I leaned in to listen and show how much I care, created a safe space for him and did everything I could to find opportunities for him and support his growth live in him, somewhere. All the prayers of the sweet ladies from church I brought him to, the laughter of our trips to the park, the pancakes and peanut butter sandwiches made with love, the encouraging words and affirmations, the deep breaths and patience, the free spirited adventures and the ways I delighted in him as a person and affirmed his worth – are part of who he is now.
I carry his light as a part of me, too. His fierce fire. His humor. His wild joy and zest for life. His spirit. His wink. His sarcastic eyebrow raised. His heart of gold. His presence has profoundly impacted who I am.
Over the years, I have found ways to reach out beyond my role as mom to impact the world around me as a writer and minister, which mean a lot to me and is clearly part of my calling, too. However, as my son comes into full bloom as an adult, a graduate, a young man with so much promise and potential, who already positively impacts those around him in many powerful ways and plans to help others in his future career – I feel affirmed in the priority placed on prayer and the little sacrifices inherent in my primary vocation as mother.
Is there any ministry more powerful? Are there any words more meaningful? Are there any actions of support more important than those of the person who carried you into this world and journeyed with you from the very beginning, through every struggle into adulthood? Is any relationship more foundational for shaping the kind of person you will be or the ways you will be able to share your gifts with the world?
Motherhood has been a sacred calling for me, one that is valued in the eyes of God, who himself needed a mother to walk with him on his journey through life.
Motherhood has been a trial by fire for me, a purification and a growing awareness of the power of the Holy Spirit and necessity of faith in God.
Motherhood has been a healing journey for me, a blessing of reclaiming the essential part of my soul that holds my brightest light, my strength and my power and my deepest love, which connects me to my children and God and always will.
I am graduating from raising my oldest son – I am so proud of myself and excited to see what comes next.
I carried you
to the top of the mountain.
I gave you wings,
only to discover
I too
can fly.
Lord, thank you for the gift of motherhood. Thank you for our children and the love we have for them and all the ways that love draws us closer to you. Please give us the grace to value ourselves and the work we do to support our families. Give us the grace to hear you through the power of the Holy Spirit and the courage to be guided by you. Give us the patience to listen to your voice through our children. Help us to be a safe space for them, a fortress of faith, support, nurturing, protection and guidance. Keep them safe for us, Lord – when they are away. Guide them to make choices and stay united to you through all of their lives. Help us grow in a stronger relationship with your mother, Mary as a role model in parenting, loving and prayer. Heal the deepest wounds of our hearts, Lord. Help us to know your love. .
By Nicky Gant for http://www.uniteinprayer.org