Many of you are probably familiar with the prayer ministry Moms in Touch. Perhaps you have prayed for your child(ren), teachers and schools as part of this ministry on a school campus, in a home or a coffee shop. Connie Kennemer led worship for twenty years at Moms in Touch events. She wrote a song called, Fly Away, as her son Todd went off to college. She captures both the growing-up years and the letting-go beautifully in her lyrics.
At this time of year as you send your kids off to school, college and jobs you might identify with these emotions and find comfort from this sweet friend.
Love, Barbara and Susan
FLY AWAY
Tricycles and Dr. Seuss Cookie Monster, Mother Goose Times tables and chicken pox Tying shoes and matching socks Kissing you and wiping tears Measure inches, count the years You steal my heart, I hold your hand The little boy becomes a man
Whatever ... I have to be honest. This phrase, usually accompanied with a roll of the eyes and shrug depicting a who cares attitude, bugs me. Somehow it seems irresponsible. It ranks right up there with the “like speak” that is so prevalent in the next generation. Whatever happened to sentence structure and proper grammar?
However, over the past ten days I’ve realized that whatever has a deep theological message.
A week ago my husband John was put in the hospital with an irregular heartbeat. He’d been tired and had flu like symptoms but he thought it was no big deal. He was immediately sent to intensive care where he remained for five days, had to have an emergency external pacemaker attached, and was finally diagnosed with Lyme disease which had infected his heart. There were scary moments for me. I vacillated from “he’s going to die” to “he’ll be alright.” Psalm 91 and Psalm 121 were very comforting.
My sister Fran flew in from Alabama and we had some honest talks. Because she has a son who has had five major brain surgeries due to a seizure disorder, she understood my emotions and fears. Yes, he could die.
I just cannot believe how melancholy I feel yet again. It happens every year when my children head back to school.
And get this … I recently came to the startling realization that in three years my oldest will be off to college. And then three years later my youngest will follow suit. Empty nest, yikes!
What is an involved, fun-loving mom to do? Well, actually she is to get her little self prepared for the inevitable. And that is why, ladies, I so appreciate Barbara and Susan’s Guide to the Empty Nest. The sadness I used to feel about my impending empty nest has been replaced with anticipation of all the memories we can make between now and my drive away from that big college campus.
When our kids leave home we have a natural opportunity. Finally there’s time to refocus on our marriage. This is crucial not only for our own marriage relationship but also for our children’s security. They need to know their parents are happy together and working on their relationship in fresh ways. It relieves them of feeling responsible for our happiness. And it forces us to let go of controlling their lives and instead strengthen our relationship with our spouse. In addition it gives them the message that they will need to work on their own future marriages throughout their whole lives. We must model a life-long commitment to work at marriage.
There can be a tendency by either the husband or the wife to remain too involved in our kids’ lives. It’s hard to let go. We miss them. Perhaps at a subconscious level some may want to stay involved with their children thereby avoiding the “marriage issue.” But we know that’s not the answer. The right thing to do is to take specific steps to grow closer to our spouse in this season.
Both Barbara and I found it helpful to re-commit ourselves in our marriages as we entered the empty nest. We call it “putting a stake in the ground.” After the last of our children’s weddings, John and I went away for a few days vacation to a friend’s beach house.
I remember when my sister was in college. I was the eldest of four siblings including two brothers and she was the youngest. We were ten years apart. I was married with a toddler. In those days I was waking late at night to a screaming baby while she was walking across campus to a fraternity party. Our normal lives were worlds apart.
Because of our age difference we had not been that close growing up but I wanted a friendship with her. My husband John agreed to babysit so off I went to college to visit her for the weekend! It was such fun being on her territory, meeting her friends, going to class and just pretending I was young and free again! (Not to mention having a break from a toddler!) Most importantly this was a step towards developing a deep friendship. Today she’s an empty nester mother of four and although I live in Virginia and she lives in Alabama, she’s my best friend. That one college visit has been influential in a decision which John and I made.
When we lost our parents we decided to put aside some of the small inheritance into what we named the “Legacy Fund.” We both come from families who have modeled to us strong faith, strong marriages, and a commitment to one another as well as to our fellow man.
In the last two months since Molly’s birth and death, I’ve been asked more times than I can count how my daughter and her husband are doing. It’s a good and kind question to be asked, but it’s a difficult question to answer because processing the death of a child is difficult. Perhaps you have wondered about them as well.
The answer has multiple facets. Rebecca and Jacob are doing well, but they are still very sad. They are lonely and cry, but they are not withdrawing from people. They are doing some traveling, building new memories as a couple and with friends. They are reading books on grief and loss, talking to a wise godly counselor by phone every week, and beginning to look ahead to a life without this precious child they had hoped to raise. We are very proud of them, especially Jacob who has chosen not to bury his grief in his work. They are both being attentive to each other’s needs knowing that they will often be very different. They are processing their enormous loss in very healthy ways.
Charles H. Spurgeon was a great and influential English preacher who also wrote prolifically. Several friends have sent us quotes by him that have helped us maintain God’s perspective on Molly’s short life. All of us will face significant loss in this life if we haven’t already.
When our kids were little our prayer lists were pretty basic: for a child to sleep through the night, for wisdom in how to handle sibling rivalry, and as they became teens we prayed like crazy for their relationships with the opposite sex, for clarity about college or jobs, etc. Day in and day out we were pretty tuned into their needs. They were obvious because they were under our roof!
But now their needs aren’t so obvious. We can’t know their normal daily stresses. We don’t know their concerns, or even what a typical day is like in their life. And we don’t know the people they interact with on a regular basis. Often we try to pray but our prayers seem so general. We feel out of the loop! We long to know more of the details of their lives and we want to be able to pray more specifically for them.
Every year we try to gather all five of our kids and spouses and grandkids together for a family reunion. After we put the little ones to bed we have adult dinners with the twelve of us adults. During this time we take turns updating each other. What have been some of the highs of the last year for you? Some of the challenges? What are some things you’d like prayer for in the coming year? After each couple shares, we take a few minutes to pray for them.
If we’re empty nesters it means that our children are grown. No, they haven’t stopped growing (neither have we!) but they are now physically removed from us. We don’t have day to day contact. We don’t know the details of what is going on in their life.
We don’t know if they are sad, in trouble, making wise decisions or foolish ones. For us there’s a profound sense of loss. We miss them. We miss “the knowing” about the tiny details of their life. In the “not knowing,” we can also experience a heightened sense of fear, especially if we have a vivid imagination. Some of us will be inclined to assume the worst. Others will assume no news is good news.
It’s an awkward transition for us and for them. We used to know and now we don’t. But this transition can also be good for us. It forces us to remember who is really in control. As a parent we did practice control while raising our kids, but the reality is that although we may have felt we were in control, we never really were. God was all along and He hasn’t stopped. He knows every detail of their life today. He knows their rough edges and their challenges. He knows the plans He has for them. And He loves them even more than we do.
One of the lessons for me in the empty nest has been learning to trust God’s control in my children’s lives in a deeper way.
