Letting Them Fly
It’s mid-September in Georgia with temperatures still touching the high eighties some days, but summer is loosening its grip. It must. Autumn is approaching. Not like a relay runner passing a baton; this exchange is unbelievably gradual. So gradual, in fact, that we miss it like a magician’s slight of hand. Green shade trees become a rustling show of orange and red. Mornings become crisp and evenings brisk. Summer flowers go to seed and tiny hummingbirds take their cue to journey south.
Every year, without fail, I look around at the brown leaves falling, pull on my sweater and wonder how I missed it. The change of season is truly magical. I want to soak it all in, enjoy every autumn night around a campfire. I want to marvel at the display of color intensifying each day.
Seasons come and go without fail. You and I schedule and plan our lives in great detail and with much purpose, but seasons are not ours to control.
No matter how badly I want autumn to stay around longer, it can’t. No matter how much I dread the the landscape graying and the air chilling, it’s going to happen. But even though winter is not my favorite, I know it won’t last forever because the warmth and green of spring will arrive.
Our lives are lived in seasons of change. Some seasons are a natural progression- infancy, childhood, adolescence, adulthood, old age, death. We are moved from one season to another by a process God himself set in motion. For some of us, accepting our current season may be difficult, like the wrinkles and gray hair.
Children want to become teenagers. Teenagers want to be “older.” Old folks wish they could turn back the clock. Parents of babies can’t wait for the diaper season to end while parents of teenagers would trade diapers for drama any day.
My husband and I are on the verge of becoming empty nesters. Quite a change after raising so many kids. Life does not look, sound, or feel like it used to five or ten years ago. We miss the days when we could make almost anything better for our kids. We miss the days when they thought we knew things. We miss holding little ones in our laps. Heck, we miss just having everyone at dinner.
No matter how much we miss those tiny toes or voices around the table each night, seasons change. The days of raising littles are gone for us. It’s hard. Like a slight of hand trick- how did they suddenly become grown and gone? It didn’t happen in a moment but it feels that way. At times, it is overwhelmingly sad, like brown leaves falling, leaving bare trees.
We can resist this season, focusing on days gone by, or we can embrace this new season for the beauty and joy it also offers. We can sit in our quiet house, look through scrapbooks and cry, or we can enjoy a slow dance on the deck after a dinner for two. We can focus on the shortcomings of our parenting, or we can celebrate the wins (and offer to pay for their first therapy session). We can worry that we didn’t fully prepare them, or we can trust that God is the better parent and will fill in all the gaps.
Here are some wins Scott and I choose to celebrate: Our kids can bathe, dress, drive, and earn money independently. Some have walked on their own enough now to even appreciate how they were loved and parented.
One thing is for sure, God has gone before us, so nothing surprises him or catches him off guard. Even though waking up in a quiet house may feel like waking up in a foreign country, God has been walking with us since he formed these children. He saw this coming. And even though our focus and energy and money has been poured out on them, His love and blessings and purpose have been poured out on us. We are his children and we are not just “parents” to him.
He has not been so consumed with our kids that he forgot us. (That’s what we do.) He’s not like, “Well, shoot. All her kids are gone. I’d better think of something for her to do now. I didn’t see that empty nest thing coming.” He’s saying, “I can’t wait for her to see what I have planned next!”
You’re still his child. He has a purpose for your life that didn’t die when your kids moved out. Motherhood is an amazing calling, but He has more for you. For me.
I’m asking him to reveal next steps, for joy in this season, for new adventures and new ministries.
I miss so many things about my kids being younger, but I am enjoying conversations with my young adults. I’m trying to give myself grace and not blame all their imperfections on my parenting. I am learning how to encourage and support while giving them room to truly spread their wings.
God is good. He’s got them under his wings.
