Saturday, May 7, 2011
My Momma always told me that my kids will break my heart one day.
Never, I thought. My kids adore me, they are my best friends and another extension of my body. Like my fingers and my toes, they are with me. Always. They prefer me over anyone.
Well, once again....Momma is always right.
I still have complete loyalty from my Presley. She wakes up singing my name, and goes to sleep singing my name and caressing my face. She's mine. All mine.
Then there's my heart melting 9 year old, Joseph.
My little world turned upside down Thursday night. I realized I was smothering him. Momma's oohing and ahhing over his every move is not what he needs anymore. He needs space.
He needs his Daddy.
Not only does he need his Daddy, but he prefers his Dad.
Love really is blind, I suppose. This has been coming on for the last year or so. I have just chosen to bury my head in that proverbial sand box. Only coming up from air when absolutely necessary.
It started with a simple and fun game of family kick ball. Laughter and competition and a lot of fun for a school night.
As we were bidding adieu to the Mayzurk family, our competitors, Lem started laughing hysterically.
He then tells us that Joseph was kicking at the basketball goal and fell straight on his back in the grass. Joseph must have quickly hopped up, because he was standing by the time we looked over.
Joseph was laughing, and Lem was still teasing him. (not okay with me, but that's another story. )
A couple of minutes later, Joseph is nowhere to be found. Finally, I find him behind Lem's truck crying.
I rush over to him ready to console him and nurse him back to happiness.
Joseph wanted none of this. He wanted to be left alone, and was even more upset that I was trying to console him.
We then go inside and I try to talk to him in his room. I am lying next to him in his bed, trying to talk to him about what had transpired.
I was met with tears and defiance. He was mad that he was crying, and even more upset that I was seeing him cry.
I don't understand. They are so foreign to me sometimes.
But, Joseph isn't like any other boy. I can read him like the back of my hand because he is so much like me. Or at least he used to be.
Now, he is full-on boy.
The conversation that I tried to pursue was nothing short of a train wreck. I may as well have dug a hole and buried myself in it right then and there.
I finally gave up and went to shower. In my head a good hot shower would wash all this away and everything would be back to the way it was. Not likely.
The next morning I was still so upset. I woke up even earlier than usual to read my beloved, "To Train up a Child" book. I have studied, taken notes and revered this book for the last 3 or 4 years. I often go to it for help and guidance when I am at a loss. It's biblically based and full of wisdom.
I prayed for His wisdom, for His guidance. Over and over in my prayer, I repeated..."This is SO hard!!"
My eyes full of tears and my heart desperate, I felt the Lord fill me with peace. I knew what I needed to do.
I had to back down. Joseph needs space. He needs room to be upset without my coddling and caressing. He doesn't need me to make him "talk" about his feelings every single incident. This only further complicates things for him, because he feels like a wimp for crying. And even more so for me seeing him cry. Ughh.
Yes, complicated to say the least.
This will not be easy. I will have to have God's strength and power to go against the grain of my momma-bear instinct.
As I type this, I am reminded of a story I once read about a little boy. He was walking along and saw a chrysalis on a branch. He watched it for a moment as he discovered a butterfly was struggling to break through. He felt sorry for the butterfly, so he grabbed his little pocket knife and and cut open the chrysalis to help the butterfly avoid the struggle. He held the butterfly in his hand as it tried to flap his small wings. The butterfly couldn't flap his wings, they were too weak.
When the challenge to emerge from the the chrysalis was removed, the butterfly's opportunity to strengthen his wings was denied.
The butterfly quickly died. It needed to struggle in order to soar.
Joseph needs to struggle and get strong on his own. I can't make everything easy and comfortable for him. He won't grow to be the man that God has designed him to be.
I will still be here, looking on from afar. Being right at his side when he requests. However, until then, I must play my role. His mother. Not his hero.
This passage from my book, "To train up a child" spoke to my heart and reassured my place:
"Your reactions are not going to make life any less unfair for your child, but there is a danger of stirring up a feel-sorry-for-myself attitude in him. If you are tough, he will be tough. If you are joyful, he will be joyful."
Tough it is.
I will put my best foot forward and play the role that God has designed for me in his life. Life is about growing and learning and then growing and learning some more. It always hurts. It always will, I suppose.
True Love puts others needs in front of your own. True love is being so concerned over the condition of another that you put your own feelings aside. Wanting the absolute best for someone, even if it goes against what your heart desires.
Love may hurt, but it is worth every heart break. Every single tear that I cry.
The gift of motherhood is not to be taken lightly. Like any other precious gem, it must be cared for and protected. It may get a few dings and scratches, but it will never lose it's value. Priceless.
growing up is hard,