‘Will I lose them forever?’

It was Mothering Sunday. I sat up in bed with a cup of tea, and realised that this year was different. I thought back over past celebrations – when the children were very small, and the door would bang open and they would run in and jump on the bed, glitter falling all over the sheets from the cards they’d made, with the cutest spidery writing saying “To Mum”. 

Later on it would be cards made at school, with a poem they’d written in their English lesson, or a cartoon-style portrait they’d done in the Art class. The years rolled on and they got too big to jump in with me, but they’d bring in chairs and sit with their feet on the bed, and give me a candle and a card they’d bought with their first pay packet. We’d sit and chat and drink tea together.

I watched them walk into high school for the first time and it felt like the most difficult thing I was ever going to do

This year was the first year the door didn’t swing open. The chairs didn’t come in and the feet weren’t on the bed. It was quiet and peaceful. I drank my tea on my own and had time to reflect. There are seasons in parenting, and sometimes the transitions can be hard. But the night before, my daughter had come in late with a friend, with pizzas she had bought for us to share, and we sat and ate by the fire, and we laughed and giggled till the early hours. A different stage, a different time, but it still brought me joy.

Stages of parenting 

Every stage of my children’s lives has had its highs and lows. I totally enjoyed going to toddler group when they were 18 months old, laughing as they knocked down a tower of blocks, and reading to them as they snuggled up and asked for the same book over and over again. But there were days when they wouldn’t eat, nights when they wouldn’t sleep, when we paced the floor with a teething baby, and we were so, so tired. You think this stage will never end…but then it’s into the next before you’ve had time to adjust.

When my children left primary school and went to high school I was worried about their new independence. I was anxious about what they were going to be exposed to, and the new level of trust I had to have in them and in society to keep them safe. I watched them walk into high school for the first time and it felt like the most difficult thing I was ever going to do. 

In fact, they had a fabulous time in that school and made some wonderful friends. And after that, I remember feeling frightened again as they went off to sixth-form college, with new levels of freedom and responsibility for organising their own lives, and a new, wider range of people to meet. Each time we had to work out how much support they needed, how much they would accept, and the best way to manage their growing independence.

Flexible scaffolding

As our children grow, family life, and parents in particular, are like the scaffolding around a building. As the walls go up the scaffolding is needed, but as each stage is completed, the scaffolding can come down. But then there’s work going on round the corner on a different part, and it has to go up again to provide a safe framework. Sometimes a child needs more scaffolding around them for support; at other times you take it down. During different stages that scaffolding will go up and down many times, but you always have to be ready to provide it.

When the children came to the end of college and were preparing for university I had the same fears and worries again. “What if I lose them in their new lives?” I thought. I should have looked back and seen how God had carried them (and me) through each transition, and how God had prepared me for a different way of parenting at every stage. Then I would have realised we weren’t doing it alone.

God had prepared me for a different way of parenting at every stage

It was in one of those “Will I lose them forever?” moments that we had a big family adventure. My sister and her family were living in China, and we all visited them. I feared that it might be our last holiday together. 

One night we were at a prayer meeting with missionaries from all over the world, and I got into conversation with a lovely lady. Her husband had died recently and she had never had children. She didn’t want to sit at home and do nothing in her old age, and she was sure God had an adventure for her, so she packed up and moved to China. She looked after children in the villages, and taught them about health care. She was full of wisdom and shone with a sense of joy and adventure.

I told her that one of my girls was about to start university, and so I needed advice and prayer. I asked her to pray for me and the girls. I expected her to say: “Lord, keep them safe. Give them a church family to care for them and protect them.” Instead, her prayer was something I wasn’t expecting. She turned to them and said: “Just have fun, fun, fun!” She prayed that joy and fun would follow them as they set out into the world. As she prayed, I started to cry. I realised that my fear and anxiety was holding me back from enjoying this new stage, and I wasn’t trusting God with them the way I should.

Since then, every time there’s a new step to take, a new way of life to adjust to, I dedicate my children to God all over again. As they keep moving on, moving forward, my prayer for them is that will know God’s love and joy, and always have fun, fun, fun.