I walked 6.4 miles the other morning. I wasn’t planning on it. In fact, my legs were not ready to walk so much in one day. But the child woke up at 5.30 and decided she was going to walk to school at 6.45. I told her it wasn’t a good idea. It was still dark outside … why not walk after school? But there was no use trying to convince her. She was determined and short of wrestling her to the ground, I could not stop her.
So I grabbed my coat and followed her. She turns around and says, “You can’t do that.” I just keep walking. And when we got to the first intersection she asks which way to go. I try to hide my smile as I tell her matter of fact. By the time we got to McDonald’s the sun was up and the school was just over the next slope. I trekked back home to pick up the younger kids and drive them to school.
My legs ached that day. I was tired … tired from the walking, tired from the constant pushing of boundaries, tired of the constant trial of my heart to love a child who is fast growing up.
It took 26 hours of labor, before she finally made her way into the world. I was exhausted then – and as painful as it was to give birth, the joy of seeing her for the first time was infinitely worth it. And I suppose these teen years are a bit like giving birth again. At the end of it all, she will soon fly away like a beautiful butterfly and it will have been so worth it.
Five minute Friday linkup. (It took me more than 5 minutes to write this. I wanted to finish my thought.)
Rebekah Love Dorris says
This is such a beautiful metaphor of how God loves us and never quits. I’m thinking of the security and probably mixture of irritation and relief as she listened to your steps behind her. Love you, friend. Thanks for sharing this. It reminds me how my Father has pursued me.
Only you could see the metaphor Rebekah. Thank you for helping me see it too.
That does sound like an exhausting morning, but I love your perspective that, like a butterfly, something beautiful will emerge from the struggle and it will be worth it in the end. Visiting from FMF.
Thanks for stopping by, Lesley. Now, if only the end could come a little sooner … for now I must be patient as we await in this cocoon phase of life.
Melissa Stroh says
I remember hearing the frustration and hurt in your words when you first relayed this story to our writing group. Hearing it fleshed out in this post makes it all the more special because you’re sharing your mother’s heart with the world. And if it helps even one other mom in that same situation, it’ll be so worth it! Though I suspect there will be way more than one mom who is impacted by this story.
Rachael M Colby says
I understand. Hold on, Mama, to God’s promises. This is the kind of fervent, determined love that your daughter will recount to others later—maybe to her own children. Remember, Jesus loves our children even more than we do and He has sent the hound of Heaven, the Holy Spirit in pursuit of their hearts. He’s got this—He will guide and carry you and your little and not so little ones. Love your tender but fierce heart for God and your family.
Thank you Rachael. Your encouragement means so much to me.