Definition
Of ALLOW:
To permit.
To give an opportunity.
Allowing
Sometimes feels more difficult
Than doing SOMETHING.
It can feel like:
Doing nothing.
Like giving up.
Surrender.
Like negative space.
(Read about that here)
And in some ways it is.

But also,
It kind of feels like
The act of surrendering
Uses quite a lot of energy.
Actively choosing to make room
To create space
For something to exist.
Allowing space
For learning;
For something new.

Allowing feelings sometimes
Feels so incredibly uncomfortable.
Even dangerous.
What if it consumes me?
Can I still permit it?
To give it an opportunity
To exist?
I’m working on it…

With regard to my children,
Allowing can also
Feel uncomfortable.
Even dangerous.

Sometimes it feels like
Extending my arms wide
Wider than I thought they could go,
So there’s enough room
For all they need to
Learn
Grow
Experience.
Especially from my narrow view
Of what I think I want
For them
And for their lives.

And then there is
The whole part about how
I can’t do it for them.
They need to do it themselves.
I know that.
Mostly.
But there are times
I would have immediately
Volunteered as tribute
To be their substitute
For some of their experiences.

I would gladly endure
Their broken arms
And broken hearts
For them
If it would help them.
But that wasn’t part of the plan
Because those experiences
Are vital and necessary
For them to become
Who they can become.
And if I did it for them
It couldn’t help them.

In the same way
That an Olympic athlete
Can’t become one,
If their mom
Did all of their training
For them,
While they sat around
Eating popcorn and watching TV.
I know rationally
It doesn’t make sense.

But sometimes I wish we could.
They could tag me in
Like a relay race.
And maybe wishing that
Is just another part
Of the experience
Of being a mother.

And I’ve also learned
That they volunteered for things
Before they came to earth
(Because God respected their agency
Even before they got here).
Things that they need to experience
Personally
Individually
So they can become something.
And at least in some cases,
They volunteered
To endure something
So someone else wouldn’t have to.
And again
All I can do
Is allow them
To fulfil their assignment
That they volunteered for.

And maybe their difficult experiences
Will help their children
Avoid the same suffering
Because they offered
To live through it.
Because I’ve seen that happen
In my own life.

Sometimes
Allowing feels like
Extending a veeeeeeery long leash.
Which is really a bond
Between my heart
And my kids.
And letting them
Go out into the world
Aka battlefield.

It’s no longer about
Fighting dragons for them
Like when they were young.
Dragons
Like scraping an elbow
And monsters under the bed.
I could slay those for them.
But at some point, it changed.

And I became a teacher.
To try to educate them
About things I’ve learned
And observed.
To warn them about perils and pitfalls
And what might help them
To find true happiness,
But ultimately,
I am compelled to allow.
And so
I hand the sword and shield
Over to them
And kiss them on the forehead
And then they go.
And letting them go,
Sometimes feels like
Letting them
Walk straight into a fiery furnace
Or a battlefield.
While I stay on the sidelines
And watch them go
And live their lives.

And when I said to
A dear friend
“Allowing seems so passive,”
She reminded me
That it isn’t.
And that reminded me
That allowing
Is NOT the same thing as
“Doing nothing.”

But it is a totally different role:
Best Supporting Actress.
Or rather,
Best Supporting Mother.
While I also go
Back to living my own life.

And it’s not passive
Because while I’m allowing,
And while they are out
Fighting dragons,
I pray
With all of the energy
Of my heart.

And I ask them questions.
And when they ask,
I offer counsel
And point out their options
If they want to hear
My perspective.

But mostly,
Allowing
Feels like exercising.
Exercising faith
Exercising courage
Exercising trust.
In them
And in God.
And focusing my efforts
And my energy
On remembering
That God is good.
And that He has them,
Holding them gently
In His hand
In ways
That I cannot.

And I lean into
The relief and gratitude
That comes
From the realization
That I do not
Have to be their Savior.
I literally cannot.
Nor am I being asked to
Because they already have One.
And it’s not me.

And while they are in battle,
I prepare myself
To be here for them.
Because I want to be
A safe place
For them to land
When they come back
Battered and bruised.
And I want to give them room
And nurture
To rest and recover
And I want them
To tell me all about
What they learned
From it.

And when they return
With inevitable hurts,
I become like a nurse;
Gently dabbing at their wounds
While my heart is breaking
For their pain,
But also reminding them
That they can do this.
And even when
I’m hurting with them,
I try to remind them
To remember
What they learned so far.
And then send them back
Into battle.

And I pray
The entire time
For more faith to trust God
With my babies.
And cling to the promise
That Jesus really is that big
That he can fix and heal
The battle wounds
That I can only put bandages on.

Parenting is for warriors.
But not the way I thought
Because instead of being the one
Who is fighting dragons
For my kids
It’s having the faith and courage
To allow them
To fight their own dragons.
And then cheering them on
From the sidelines
Like a supportive parent
Who looks composed
On the outside,
But sometimes feeling
On the inside
Like a deranged cheerleader
With bedhead
And haggard pom poms.
Smiling through my fear.

Because even if
There are times
When I’m just as afraid as they are,
When they look to me
I want them to see me
Cheering for them.
And to know
That I believe in them
Maybe more than they believe in themselves.
Yet.

I want them to know
That I believe
That they can do this.

Because
The deranged cheerleader knows
The reality of consequences
Good or bad.
Her heart and uniform
Are charred around the edges
Like burnt toast
Because the furnace heat is far-reaching
And collateral damage is real.
And so are the tears and the pain
Of watching someone she loves
Go through the battles.
Watching someone
That she helped to create,
That she gave birth to,
Go deep into the battle
And make choices
And then endure or enjoy
The consequences.
Consequences that sometimes
Leave her
And her heart
Shattered in pieces.
And then trying
To hold onto the belief
That the Savior
Can really do
What He says He can.
And heal.
And put all of the pieces
Back together.

And other times,
The consequences
Of their choices,
Fill them with happiness
Which then
Quite literally
Consumes her heart
With so much joy
That it overflows
Spilling out everywhere.

And I also
Want to remember
That while they CAN do this,
They have to WANT to.
Because only THEY
Can make their choices.
And that means
Believing they can.
But as a mom,
Also holding enough room
For “But if not…”

And even with
The battles
When it seems like
They have been defeated,
There is still no such thing
As permanent defeat.

Like emotions ,
Defeat is only temporary.
So I continue to pray
For the strength
Courage
To allow them
To give them an opportunity
And get out of the way,
For them
To live out the promises they made
In this life
And the life before
Remembering with gratitude
How much
God honors my own agency.
And that He will honor theirs too.
And that they chose to come here.
And they don’t have to do it alone.
Because I can’t even see
All the people
Who are cheering for them
Helping them
In ways I don’t even know about yet.

And I hold onto the promise
That all will be made right in the end.
Knowing how much God loves us.
And knowing that
I can try to parent the way He does.
By allowing.

Parents are warriors.
The battles might be invisible
But no less real.
And I’m learning
It takes tremendous effort
Courage
Dedication
Devotion
To choose over and over again
To exercise faith
To allow
To keep cheering them on
From the sidelines.

To wake up every day
And decide again and again
To choose optimism and faith
Instead of fear and doubt.

It’s not passive
To allow God
To do His work;
While I do my work
Of helping Him
With His plan
For each of my children.

Parenting is for warriors.
Because
In my humble opinion
One of the hardest things
About parenting
Is allowing.

Allow my kids
To do
And learn
And grow
And become.

Allow myself
To feel
All the feelings
About that.
And also
To do
And learn
And grow
And become.

Allow God
To be God.
And to do
All that He said He would do.

And I have so much gratitude
That He allows each one of us
To do
And learn
And grow
And become.