Skip to main content

Parenting and The One Place of Perfect Peace

My husband and I talked about parenting last night. We've been at it for a little over twenty-eight years. What I never expected was the constant change, constant adjustments that parenting requires of you all your life. As your child(ren) grow and move into different seasons of their life, so your parenting moves into different seasons and has to adapt. If we treated our twenty-eight and twenty-five year old children the same way we treated them when they were five and two and a half, we would be sorry parents indeed (and our kids would be even sorrier!).

The past few years I've learned that now, more than ever before, I don't know what I'm doing as a parent. Fortunately, I no longer have to concern myself with preparing them to be responsible, independent adults. Unfortunately, this is where the problem comes in. I haven't figured out how to adapt to this stage of parenting. In their formative years, I knew what I had to do, my job was clear (although the best way to go about doing it changed with their ages). Now we all live in different cities. We all have lives full of commitments. It's hard to find time to talk on the phone much less actually be together. Sometimes my heart aches to know them as I once did, to have those heart-to-hearts that came up spontaneously because we lived in the same house, for one of them to come into my room to say goodnight and end up laying beside me on the bed and talking to me for another hour.

I find that more than any other relationships in my life, these are the ones in which I now feel most insecure. I don't know how to be the mother of adult married children. I don't know how to be a mother-in-law. I haven't been doing it for even three years yet compared to the twenty plus years prior to that. Other than my husband, these are the most important relationships in my life. I don't want to blow it. I don't want to push them away by demanding more of them than they can give, and I don't want them to think I don't care by not expressing how important they are to me. I don't know how to straddle this fence, and as I've tried, I've struggled with an ugly competitiveness born of jealousy. I've contemplated changing, thinking, "they seem to like this or that, so I'll become this or that." I've dealt with fear: fear of losing their affection, fear that someone in their new life will take my place, fear of letting go of what was in order to grasp what is and what will be.

More than anything, I want my children and their spouses to follow God and to be happy in Him. Whatever that means, I have to trust God with them. I have to trust God with me. And I have to trust God with our relationships. As my favorite quote from Dr. Martin-Lloyd Jones says:
There is only one place of perfect peace .  . . you find it when you are submitted in all things to the will of God.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Resting...Resting?

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had dinner with our daughter-in-law and two of our grand children. My daughter-in-law lost her job a couple of months ago. I wanted an update on current job prospects or plans, so I asked, "What are you doing these days?" Her answer was simple and yet incredibly profound.              Resting. (Is that even a word in the American lexicon?) I'm proud of her, and of them, for making the decision that it's time for her to rest. She's been in hyper-drive for all the years I've known her (over 16).  That word has haunted me since she spoke it. Resting. What would happen if I...if you...gave it a try?  In Psalm 23: 6a, David says Surely goodness and mercy will follow me. In K.J. Ramsey's The Lord is My   Courage (page 240), she tells us that our English word, "follow," doesn't convey the power behind the original Hebrew word that David used (radaph). She tells us that radaph means "to pursue, chase, and pers

It's Time to Take off the Sunglasses

 Americans have a favorite pastime, and no, I'm not referring to baseball or football. This pastime doesn't cost any money. You don't need tickets, and there's no set game time. It happens every day. You don't need to be physically fit. You don't need special training. We do it at book club, at work, on the road, in meetings, having lunch with friends, etc. You get the idea. What is it? Complaining. We love to complain, and I'm right there in the fray, tearing everything and everyone apart. Sometimes it wears me out. My mom passed away many years ago, and one of my all-time favorite memories of life with her goes back to my summer between high school and college. We worked together that summer. Drove together every morning, bright and early, right into the rising sun. One morning, my mom reached into her purse and grabbed her sunglasses, putting them on just as we rounded the bend on the St. Louis-rush-hour-busy road that put us directly in the sun's pat

1%

Gideon: By his own admission, his family was the weakest of his tribe, and he was the weakest in his family (Judges 6: 15-16). Midianites: Big bullies who oppressed the Israelites back in the day. As the story goes, this little-nobody-Gideon is doing manual labor for his dad (I'm thinking that this might be akin to working at Walmart - not exactly a career - or even a job - that causes anyone to preen), when an angel calls him, "a mighty man of valor" (Judges 6: 12). Huh? Oh, you mean this other guy, right? Nope, I'm talkin' to you. Fast forward and we find this little-nobody-Gideon camping near Israel's oppressors with a team of 32,000. This seems like a lot until Gideon checks out the enemy and finds that there are so many Midianites and their pals, the Amalekites, that no one can count them. They seemed "like locust in abundance and their camels were without number as the sand that is on the seashore." (Judges 7: 12) Gulp. What does God