I’m home again, and back in my garage, covered in paint, and dust, and sweat.
I am working on a table and chairs that I have been hired to refinish. When completed, my labours will have produced a lovely finished product, that I will have labored on for about fifteen to twenty hours (a rather concervative estimate). It will be complete, I will deliver it, have my pocket padded, and be on my way to begin yet another project.
I am labouring in another way this week …
parenting.
Yesterday, my twenty-something daughter and her friend left for a road trip …
and I had labor pains, as I hugged her good-bye, forced a smile of well wished excitement and fun … and thought of all that could go wrong enroute.
Yesterday, my just-graduated daughter and her boyfriend headed south, across the Canada/US border for the first time (solo), to check out a waterfall, hang out at a park, shop, and have the best pizza this side of Chicago …
and I had labor pains, as I hugged her good-bye, wishing them a great day of fun … and thought of possible dangers of a waterfall, money issues, and car failures.
Today we will pick up our son, after two weeks away at camp, and I already know what he will say when we pick him up,
“I’m only home a week, then I want to go back for the rest of summer”
and I will have labor pains, as he will not be here much this summer … and I’ll miss him.
Never, as an expectant mom, did I imagine that my connection to my children had nothing to do with an umbilical cord. It has nothing to do with anything physical! As can be confirmed by mothers who have adopted or fostered children.
I don’t desire for my kids to live in momma fear. I don’t desire for them to only do that which makes me comfortable. I want them to live their lives within fearless wisdom, pursuing the dreams, desires and responsibilities that God has laid upon their hearts and minds.
A child does not labor for its mother, a mother labours for her child.
Not one book I read, in preparation for birth and delivery, ever informed me that the length of labor for a mom (a parent) never ends.
itsawonderfilledlife 