An Impossible Love

Parental love is an impossible love. Well, I can only speak from the perspective of a mother; I can't speak for the dads out there.

We have our children, and we become intensely linked to them. It's like walking through a door of no return. No matter how difficult it becomes, we can't and don't want to go backwards through the door. No matter how hard it gets, we can't imagine life without them. We don't want to.

When they are small, they fill our days and nights. Some of us go days and weeks without being away from them, and we invest a myriad of emotions in them, so much at times, that we have a hard time figuring out where we leave off and they begin. We often give up sleep, money, time and our dreams; we do it willingly because as much as we may want some things for ourselves, we want the things for them even more. We do it because we are so thankful to God for these precious gems that we want to bring them up for His glory.

And then, one day, all of that emotion, sacrifice and investment must be set aside so that they can become independent. And while we may become used to the lack of physical presence, the emotional investment never dwindles. It just can't. I may be able to look up into the height of my 16 year old son, and I can see that he is taller than I, taller than his father, but that is not always who I see. I see the little one. It is hard to adjust our vision no matter how long or how gradual the process of release is.

Parents don't come with switches. We can't turn it off and turn it on. And there is a fine line between love and smothering; at least to us. To our children, it always looks like smothering, and we must resist the temptation to feel insulted or blown off.

It is a mystery; a bittersweet mystery, that God grants us these children for a season. I guess the grace he bestows on us when they are keeping us up at 2:00 a.m. with an ear infection or because they've just barfed in their beds for the third time is the same grace that helps us watch them take flight.