Reluctant Release

“I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.”  1 Samuel 1: 27-28

I have to say goodbye again.

I struggled to breathe. Tears rolled down my cheeks.

It isn’t fair.

The summer months flew like a brisk wind. Although I convinced myself I had adjusted last year when he first left, those poignant twinges crept back.

He was leaving for college in one week.

What about her? She too is causing my heart to thunder. She threw her arms around me, squeezing me tight, as she uttered words of finality.

“This is it, Mom!” Those words flashed a myriad of memories across my mind amidst her declaration of finally finding her dream wedding dress. Yes, this was it.

Despite years of invested time, energy, guidance and love, resistance is futile. I feel the proverbial rope slipping–sometimes in jarring intervals, causing my heart to skip its beat; sometimes in slow, agonizing inches, pricking at my very soul. The process of letting go proves daunting.

I am bidding farewell to my children in many ways, a little bit at a time, every day.

How can You do this to me? Heat flushes my cheeks. My fist clenches. I’m warring with God. I’d love to throw something–anything. A smug of faint satisfaction crosses my face as a pillow ricocheted off the rocking chair in my bedroom.

These are blessings You gave me, God! Why are you taking them from me? A demanding pout finds my face.

Freeze.

As rapidly as those words left my lips, my childish resentment was exposed.

I know better. I’ve searched scriptures enough to know this part of the deal. My children belong to God–they’ve been given to me “on loan” with proper care instructions. God’s word coursed through my mind.

“I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.”  1 Samuel 1: 27-28 (NIV)

I quietly blink back tears, realizing I must continually give my children to God and trust Him. There is no single thing more testing of my faith.

I’m still their mom. I’ll continue to pray, encourage and offer advice–only when asked, of course. Now, I turn them over to God, who loves them more than I humanly can.

My children exist to fill my life with joy and challenge. To share laughter, sorrow, anger and love as we navigate our lives together.

My job?

My job . . . is to give them wings.