I have a thousand things to tell you. Hundreds of apologies to make, so many admissions, declarations and blessings to declare over your lives. So much to say.
Let me start here: I know that I have loved you imperfectly. I have tried hard but often failed. With all of my broken human might, I have loved you, and I know that it has still been so far from perfect. And for that I apologize. I hope you will forgive me. It’s also because of my imperfect love that I tried so hard to make sure you know Jesus. I want you to know perfect love, and He’s the only one that can offer it. In all the ways I have gotten it wrong, He will not. He can do what I cannot; in His hands you will find perfect love and perfect peace. Stay close to Him!
I know that I have left marks on you that I never intended- some for the better and, sadly, some for worse. I hope that you will collect those good things and hold them like treasures to your heart. For the others, I ask that you forgive me and offer me some grace. Please remember that you came with no instructions and there is no course to study to master this parenting thing. Some day, if you choose, perhaps you’ll know what I mean.
I know that I have said and done things that have hurt you. Some of these things have happened already, and, unfortunately, some are yet to come. My request would be that when it comes time for you to deal with them, to heal from them, that you would invite me in and allow me to participate in that and have the opportunity to do my part and ask for forgiveness. I don’t want you to carry these burdens that I created all on your own.
Please know that as often as I could, when I felt it was safe to do so, I said YES. I have always been for you! Telling you no was typically done because I felt I needed to protect you from something- sometimes that something was you! But saying no was often more painful for me than you realized. It wasn’t arbitrary and was not used to fulfill some parental power trip. I’ve always preferred saying yes.
I know my flaws are many, and as you grow into adults and have choice about how you spend your time, I so greatly appreciate the time you choose to spend with me. As you gain experience in the world, I know you’ll have more to compare your life, and your parents, to. I want you to know that I am well aware that I won’t stack up to some. Your childhood won’t always stack up to others. But, this mom and your childhood are yours, and the only ones you’ll get, so hopefully that will matter in the end.
As much as I wish it weren’t so, and as much as I might try to put plans in place to make it better, you will likely find me difficult as I age. Some of it will be because the world moves quickly, and I will likely get left behind. Even if I stay somewhat relevant, things will seem foreign and probably sometimes scary to me. I won’t understand or be able to keep up. I apologize in advance, and I ask you to recognize that it will someday, though it seems so far from now, be you as well. Please be patient and remember that I’m doing the best I can.
There are some genetic and familial things that I have and that I have passed to you. I don’t love all of them, and I know you won’t either. The best we can do is recognize them, say thank you for the good ones and work to pass them on. For the bad ones, we do our best to minimize and eliminate the negative impact they have on our lives and the lives of others. We don’t get to choose our history.
I want you to be better than me. If it seems that I’ve asked things of you that I haven’t been able to pull off myself, please know that it hasn’t been intended to be hypocritical. It’s simply because I want you to be better. You are still at the beginning, and you have great capacity to get it right. I believe in you.
You have been two of my greatest teachers. You have taught me lessons that I could NEVER have learned on my own, and I am grateful. I recognize that I haven’t always been a good or gracious student. I hope you’ll forgive that too.
I love you tremendously, and I am super proud of the humans you are. I look forward to seeing what the future holds for each of you. And I’m ever so grateful the Lord saw fit to let me be part of the foundation, as uneven as it may be.
I’m here to cheer for you, to encourage you, to catch you when you fall and to help you get back up again. As your worlds expand, I know you will have plenty of others to lean on, but remember, you are a part of me, and I will always be home.
Thanks for being mine!
human interruptions 