Tuesday, April 28, 2015

Not Really Mine

My life has a brief 48 hour window where I found myself at home with no urgent project to finish - so I began to once again clear out our library - which really is a dumping ground for all things school and paper.  I have college acceptance letters, SAT and ACT results, letters to the NCAA and letters from college coaches.  I have Irish Dance Competition programs and sweet notes from teachers.  I have doodle drawings and list made of things to do in the summer.  I should be cleaning but instead I just stack.  Why can't I just throw these papers away?  Some are worth saving but many are just trash - I realize that in the tossing I am forced to realize that life is moving forward and each of my 3 minions are growing up and moving on.  With each toss of the paper I am forced to reconcile the new stage of life.  As wonderful as it is to watch these little people grow into awesome amazing adults - it pains me - to know that they will move on - to no longer watch them daily as they dance in joy and suffer in pain.  In this moment I am practicing the presence of God - to know that He holds them ....

I have been forced to face a reality......
my children aren't really mine.  I have spent the last 18 years training, educating, loving, nurturing , molding, and discipiling these small people - I feel that I should have some ownership.   I DON'T.  All that has been given to me is God's - how I chose to steward that gift is my responsibility.  These people belong to God - their hearts, their lives, their being - ALL GOD - not me.   In coming to grips with this reality I have found freedom - it's not about me - WHAT??? It's not about me.  These people, are people that I am blessed to love, to train, to desciple.  These people bring me joy, and at times sorrow - and they are not mine - they are GOD's - to fellowship with, to enjoy worship, to love - and they will get to choose all that!  I get to choose this moment - this time - this brief, oh so brief encounter - to love, to train, to mold, to nurture - not control - a life that is so precious.   A life not to be possessed and controlled but to be loved and shared.

I may sit here with these papers a little longer - but three o'clock is coming so I really should pull myself together......

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