My mother always told me, “I raised you to be independent
and have your own life.” I loved that about her! I left the nest relatively
confident – and thankful that she was only a phone call away when I realized
how painful “adulting” was.
I raised my children the same way – then was mortified when
they actually moved out! The first crypt in the Meh Cavern the Holy Spirit addressed was losing my children to
adulthood. Ever since I held my favorite baby doll in my arms at age seven, I
pictured my life with babies and imagined we would all live within close to one
another. Sunday dinners, spontaneous shopping trips with my daughter, etc.
filled my childhood fantasies.
I thought I was handling it well until my daughter moved to
another state and got married. Suddenly, I was adrift in an empty nest. To
avoid the pain, I became distracted navigating my own “adulting”, at least
until the grave cloths started to stink. I never thought I needed to grieve
their adulthood. I mean, the fact they were still alive and thriving is quite
the accomplishment as a parent! But the deep loneliness that filtered up from
my soul could not be quenched. I suddenly felt like my anchor for this world
was gone and my feet were trying to touch bottom so I could catch my breath.
The grief worked its way up one Friday morning, and I had flashbacks
to being a 7-year-old holding her favorite baby doll. Mom and Dad were fighting
downstairs. This was a bad one with ultimatums, yelling, and the hint of some
kind of betrayal. I remember whispering to my baby doll, “Shhhh, shhh, it will
be ok. I won’t leave you.” I felt paralyzed and afraid to leave my room.
I never knew where this memory came from – out of some deep,
dark cavity, but the Holy Spirit knew. He knew my fear of abandonment - created
in the moment of hearing that fight - connected me in some way to want to hold
my children near and never be away from them.
This grieving went all the way back to a little girl holding
her baby doll and fearing abandonment. While in therapy, I learned a technique of
addressing the wounded child within. It was time to comfort that 7-year-old and
tell her that Jesus was her ever present anchor. She never need fear being
abandoned for He will never leave me nor
forsake me.
I think I got through to her cause that deep, dark cavernous
hole is filled with light.
And this was only the beginning…
Psalms 21:7
“For the King (or 7-year-old little girl) trusts in the Lord,
And through the mercy of the Most High,
he (or she) shall not be moved (be anchored).”
