For such a time as this

I woke this morning with a deep ache in my heart – for my children.  It’s impossible to count the number of times each day that my mind goes to them.  I think of their lives, their triumphs, their struggles, their failures.  I think most of our relationship with them and how I long for it to be better, deeper, truer.  My heart breaks at what they appear to believe about us that is in such deep conflict with the truth.

I suppose that is a common ache.  I’m sure many parents of adult children sorrow over the love and devotion to their children that seems to disappear into the vapor.  I know in my relationship with my own parents that, although I know them well, I don’t know all there is about them.  And what I know is still, even so many years later, colored by childish perceptions.  For instance, I learned just yesterday that my mom has regrets about returning to work and not being a full-time mom to us as we were growing.  If I let myself, I could imagine how the lives of my brothers and I may have been different if she had been home, but what is the point of that?  It is my life that has made me who I am, and frankly I like who I am.  But it’s an interesting revelation in light of the fact that I express my gratitude to my husband regularly for the privelage I have of being a full-time mom.

I guess my biggest regret at this point is the feeling that we did not fight hard enough for them.  We are a blended or divided family, depending on how you look at it.  For so many months of the year the older kids lived with their mom 2,000 miles away and we had precious little time with them during summers and the occasional holiday.  How can you possibly love a child enough, teach them and encourage them enough in so little time?  How can a child learn their parent’s values, how can a parent instill all there is in just those few weeks each year?  We never fought for custody; we let the kids decide.  I’ve wondered if that was the right thing for them.

This is all on my heart, I suppose, because it feels like that all over again.  Most of our kids are 2,000 miles away, again.  We are once again removed from their lives, getting just snipets here and there.  There is a deep sorrow to parenting that I didn’t expect and, even after so many years, it still takes me by surprise.

When the baby Jesus was presented at the temple, faithful old Simeon prophesied over Jesus and then turned to Mary and said, “…and a sword will pierce even your own soul…” (Luke 2:35).  He warned her of her heartbreak over her son.  Granted, her Son was unique, but I don’t think her sorrow was.

I’ve prayed two things about my children: One is that they never, ever experience the brokenness of divorce in their lives and families.  The other is that they each, some day, truly understand the depth and breadth of our love for them.