Two things happened recently, that put me in a state of panic. First, we went to visit my parents, and I saw several of the mothers of the children I used to babysit for. One was out watering her plants, the other was arriving home from work. I was walking with one of my daughters in the stroller, past this mother who I had known when she had small children. Now, all these children are grown and off to college, careers, and marriages.
Secondly, my husband forwarded on an e-mail to me which was a prayer request. A friend of ours has a sister who is going to join a very cloistered monastery across the country. He was asking for prayers for his sister and parents in this difficult time of transition.
In the midst of this, I lay in bed the other night, nursing my one year old to sleep. She is rapidly exiting the baby stage of life and entering toddlerhood. She is wanting to be independent, wanting to do things in her own time and in her own way. I was trying to squeeze in some evening prayer time while I nursed her, and as I prayed it hit me – one day, she would be all grown up, and it was entirely possible that she would be called to religious life (even very cloistered religious life).
I began to panic. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing my precious little girl! My husband came in to check on us, and I frantically whispered to him, explaining what I was worrying about. He smiled gently, put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Michele, you just have to give it to God.”
The wisdom in that simple sentence cannot be understated. Give it to God. More accurately, I need to give them to God. I need to lovingly give him my two beautiful daughters and any other children he blesses us with.
As a parent, especiall
y as a parent of very small children, it is easy to fall into the trap of thinking that these little ones belong to me. As I shuffle them throughout the day, it very much feels like I am the mother duck and they are my little ducklings. For now, they are neatly in a row, but one day, they will certainly fly.
I think that every parent knows that to some degree, but as a Catholic parent, it is important for me to keep in mind that they were never mine to begin with. These beautiful children of mine have always belonged to God, and this has especially been true since the day of their baptism. I remember the days leading up to the baptism of my first child. I was excited for her to join the Church, relieved to know that she would be safely in a state of grace – but I also was aware that she wouldn’t be “just mine” anymore.
She would, in a sense, belong to everyone in the body of Christ, and most especially to God himself. After her baptism, she could call God “Father” and consider Mary her Mother. As much as I eagerly awaited her baptism day, I also felt a bittersweet feeling in knowing it was the first step in a long journey of preparing her for her vocation.
My husband does a wonderful job of praying for our daughters’ vocations (whatever those vocations may be) with a sense of deep trust. I pray for them, too, but I pray very reluctantly. I’m not sure what God has in store for them, and frankly, I’m afraid to let go. Isn’t that the challenge of parenthood, though? Letting our little ones go as they need to? Giving them the tools they need to thrive in the world, and one day get to heaven?
I continue to struggle with this, but I know that my husband is right. I need to give my worries to God. I need to, again and again, entrust my daughters to the heavenly Father’s care. As much as I love them, he loves them even more. Not only that, but he also loves me. His plan may be unknown right now, but in the meantime I can rest assured in the knowledge that – whatever his plan may be – it will be very, very good.
