I can still remember the first few months with my daughter like it was yesterday. She was this beautiful little gift from God and I adored her. However, she also had colic. Because of that she screamed loudly and for long periods of time. I spent most of the first few months of her life overwhelmed and terrified that I would never be enough for her. I was so worried that I was failing her. In time I learned. I learned to sooth her and I learned what I could and could not eat. Though sleep deprived I survived that season and even enjoyed my time with her.
Fast forward a couple years and I had a beautiful and very strong willed little girl. She knew what she wanted and she didn’t care what I thought on the matter. In fact, she was quite ok with telling me that she would get her way. I would cry through colored walls and temper tantrums. I can remember more than one temper tantrum that I threw with her. Because I didn’t have the healthiest frame work for parenting I didn’t know how to manage my temper. I yelled more than I should have and always felt like a failure. But I loved her. I loved her more than anything in all the world. So I learned. I made a point of learning how to manage my anger for her. I became the mom she needed. It wasn’t always easy but she was worth it.
A few years later I found myself homeschooling a sweet girl who I didn’t know was dyslexic. Every lesson was a battle. Every day we hurt and we were angry together. She would cry because she didn’t feel like she was enough and I would cry because I didn’t feel like I was enough. Once the diagnosis of dyslexia and dysgraphia came to be we figured it out, she and I. We figured out ways to help her learn and what her weaknesses were. I loved her and walked her through it and now she does amazing.
Now I find myself in the midst of another struggle. My sweet girl is 9 years old and she is grieving. Her great grandfather has passed away and she sees him in her words as, “the only grandpa who ever cared about me.” Instead of tears, she chooses anger. For the first time in her life, I can’t hug her and fix it. I can’t bandage a boo boo and make it all better. I can’t become a better mom because it’s what she needs. I can’t change technique. I can only let her grieve. I can only trust that the God who holds me on my roughest days will hold her on hers.
I am sure in time I will look back on this moment. I will remember the helpless feeling that comes with realizing she is growing up. I will remember the heart ache that comes with knowing that there will be hurts she will feel that I can’t fix and I can’t save her from. Today I am choosing to trust her to the God who rescued me so many years ago. I pray that He will hold her when I can’t and give me words when she lets me.
If you are watching your child grow up and feeling much like I am, be encouraged. We are going to stop being able to fix things in the simple ways we once thought we could. However, we will always have someone standing on our behalf to fix them better than we ever could.