Not too long ago I remember putting bandaids on my children’s fingers and handing them the “boo-boo bunny” to miraculously make everything better. Back then I always knew where they were, who they were with, what they were doing, and that they were safe. Every night I tucked them into bed tight.
But slowly, very quickly actually, things changed.
No longer can I make everything better. I don’t always know where they are, who they are with, what they are doing, or if they are safe. And with one in college, I can’t even always be present to take care of things.
This of course is a normal, natural reality. As kids grow up they become less dependent. It is meant to be this way. But as any parent with grown up (or semi-grown up) kids will attest, they will never not still be our babies, which means our hearts will always, forever still long to protect, rescue and care for. Knowing we can’t is hard. Some days – some seasons – harder than others.
It’s not that I want to roll back time to when boo-boo bunny saved the day; I love having older kids. But being able to heal their hurt with a bandaid and bunny sounds really nice right now.
Instead my only option is to trust God as the ultimate and perfect parent to my kids. Interesting isn’t that as our kids become less dependent on us, we have to become more dependent on him. But when he doesn’t do what this parent thinks he should, my struggle is with him.
He promises to be our rock, our fortress and deliverer. Our shield and our stronghold. To lead us beside still waters and to restore our souls. We need this since his word also tells us to not be surprised by trials that come our way. But how long we sometimes endure without seeing him be all these things for our child is excruciating.
Congnitively still, I know God is always there in the boat, steering. But visibly when waters are rising, my heart yells out for God to hurry. I know he can, so why isn’t he?
If the boo-boo bunny still worked I wouldn’t have to wrestle with these tough questions that are hard to ask. But thankfully King David shows us in the Psalms that we can. So I will keep crying out to him to “give ear to my prayer.” In this tension of calling to him and out against him, I trust he’s using the very same circumstances of my child to show me too his “grace abounds in deepest waters.”
And isn’t this what we need to know with utmost certainty when we can’t protect, rescue or care for our child ourselves?
