how saying goodbye is part of the gift of parenting
reposted from: http://www.themobsociety.com
He turns eighteen next month, and I can’t believe how time has flown.
I remember holding his 3-month-old body in church, and praying he’d stay asleep in my arms.
I remember the first day he ate carrots from that tiny beech-nut jar, and can still clearly picture how he had no idea how to move them to the back of his mouth to swallow–how they dripped down his chin until my silicone-coated, blue baby spoon, scooped it all up and right back in again.
I can still see him running at five, and biking at eight, and how he never thought he’d master that skateboard at all. How he spent hours in our cul-de-sac practicing the flip, and how his face lit up when he finally made it work. I can still see that smile in my mind.
I remember that little old lady at church, telling me to savor each moment, because the time was going to fly by. And to be honest, I remember how I wanted to pinch her head off for saying it. But how I smiled, and thanked her for her words anyway–convinced she’d forgotten the work it is to mother young boys, or perhaps had edited the hard or traumatic stuff right out of her mind.
As a mother of a young boy, I knew my days were long, and I was sure they’d never fly by.
I still remember the struggles through the math homework, the lessons learned from unkind kids, and the discipline that broke my heart in the many moments I had to follow through–oh how I had to follow through, time and time again.
But now, at almost eighteen, he’s so independent. He has opinions and desires of his own. He drives himself wherever He needs to go, and I’ve begun to wonder where I even fit anymore.
I know getting a driver’s license is supposed to be exciting, but for this mama it hasn’t been so. And not because he’s a bad driver, because he’s actually really good. But the thing is, I used to drive him everywhere. Car-time used to be our-time. But now, what used to be my only-time, is fading into no-time. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.
It’s a relentless dull ache. And for me, has become a slow goodbye.
He’s become a man as I’ve blinked the years away, and I never thought the day would come where I wished he needed me more. I regret to admit that little old lady was right.
Yet even in this slow goodbye, I’m beginning to realize, the suffering is part of the gift.
God gave him to me as a gift that Christmas of 1995. And my gift to God was to love him well, and train him to love.
And in saying goodbye, the prize is almost here. This is what I’ve aimed for this whole time.
Through every meal.
Every conversation.
Every back rub.
Every moment.
The end of these times are giving birth to new kind of season.
A time of independence. Responsibility. Autonomy. And Manhood.
A time where we can still laugh, and eat, and play games. And a time where we can be friends. A time when I’ll give advice only when I’m asked, and be an advisor to help him love another woman well.
Even the pain can be a gift.
And although it hurts, God really is giving it as a gift.
Even if it doesn’t feel like a gift at all.
~Jacque Watkins jacquewatkins.com
I remember holding his 3-month-old body in church, and praying he’d stay asleep in my arms.
I remember the first day he ate carrots from that tiny beech-nut jar, and can still clearly picture how he had no idea how to move them to the back of his mouth to swallow–how they dripped down his chin until my silicone-coated, blue baby spoon, scooped it all up and right back in again.
I can still see him running at five, and biking at eight, and how he never thought he’d master that skateboard at all. How he spent hours in our cul-de-sac practicing the flip, and how his face lit up when he finally made it work. I can still see that smile in my mind.
I remember that little old lady at church, telling me to savor each moment, because the time was going to fly by. And to be honest, I remember how I wanted to pinch her head off for saying it. But how I smiled, and thanked her for her words anyway–convinced she’d forgotten the work it is to mother young boys, or perhaps had edited the hard or traumatic stuff right out of her mind.
As a mother of a young boy, I knew my days were long, and I was sure they’d never fly by.
I still remember the struggles through the math homework, the lessons learned from unkind kids, and the discipline that broke my heart in the many moments I had to follow through–oh how I had to follow through, time and time again.
But now, at almost eighteen, he’s so independent. He has opinions and desires of his own. He drives himself wherever He needs to go, and I’ve begun to wonder where I even fit anymore.
I know getting a driver’s license is supposed to be exciting, but for this mama it hasn’t been so. And not because he’s a bad driver, because he’s actually really good. But the thing is, I used to drive him everywhere. Car-time used to be our-time. But now, what used to be my only-time, is fading into no-time. And I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt.
It’s a relentless dull ache. And for me, has become a slow goodbye.
He’s become a man as I’ve blinked the years away, and I never thought the day would come where I wished he needed me more. I regret to admit that little old lady was right.
Yet even in this slow goodbye, I’m beginning to realize, the suffering is part of the gift.
God gave him to me as a gift that Christmas of 1995. And my gift to God was to love him well, and train him to love.
And in saying goodbye, the prize is almost here. This is what I’ve aimed for this whole time.
Through every meal.
Every conversation.
Every back rub.
Every moment.
The end of these times are giving birth to new kind of season.
A time of independence. Responsibility. Autonomy. And Manhood.
A time where we can still laugh, and eat, and play games. And a time where we can be friends. A time when I’ll give advice only when I’m asked, and be an advisor to help him love another woman well.
Even the pain can be a gift.
And although it hurts, God really is giving it as a gift.
Even if it doesn’t feel like a gift at all.
~Jacque Watkins jacquewatkins.com
god is good! anniversay #23
11.3.2013
Today was a beautiful day - beautiful weather, beautiful company, beautiful memories. I could not have asked for a better day with my husband - and to be able to share it with our two fabulous boys, made our 23rd anniversary even more special!
GOD is GOOD!
Thank you, Father, for sweet, undeserved blessings. Thank you for my husband, our life together, our marriage and our family. You have blessed us beyond words. Abba, I pray that my life, through my thoughts, words and deeds always honors you and points others to your great majesty, grace and power. I pray for your forgiveness for the times it doesn't. Thank you for loving us and showering us with your immeasurable mercy. In Yeshua's precious name. Amen.
GOD is GOOD!
Thank you, Father, for sweet, undeserved blessings. Thank you for my husband, our life together, our marriage and our family. You have blessed us beyond words. Abba, I pray that my life, through my thoughts, words and deeds always honors you and points others to your great majesty, grace and power. I pray for your forgiveness for the times it doesn't. Thank you for loving us and showering us with your immeasurable mercy. In Yeshua's precious name. Amen.
november 3 ~ another reason to celebrate and be grateful
In a few hours my husband and I will celebrate 23 years of marriage, and 31 years of being us - together.
Dear Prairie Husband,
I have been thinking about our years together. I realized long ago that it takes more than warm, fuzzy, amorous feelings to make a marriage and a home worth coming home to. A life of sharing and caring isn't by chance. A life of trusting another person with anything and everything isn't an accident. A life of holding on to one another, even when things are rocky or rough or incredibly tough, takes more than happy thoughts. It takes commitment. To each other. To the ideals of marriage as outlined in the Scriptures. To our GOD and to the promises we made to Him and each other. I thank Him every day for you, for us, for our relationship and our family.
Every day something I see or hear in you makes me love you more than I did the day we wed. -More than the first time we kissed. -More than I loved you yesterday. Every day I fall in love with you again. Sometimes it is simply the things that first attracted me to you, like how caring you are, or your sharp sense of integrity or your character. Perhaps it's your sense of humor or maybe it's your knack for knowing when to be just goofy enough to break the tension in a room. And I love that you have a soft, sentimental side, too, that often can't help but break through. Other times it's your wisdom or your determination or your good old fashioned work ethic that draws me to you. Sometimes it is the way you look at me or the touch of your hand, or a hug. Many days it's simply the constant knowing that you are there - always loyal, always protective, always loving.
I fall in love with you again when I think of all of our goals and dreams we've accomplished together and those that we still have our eye on. I fall for you again each time I watch you parent and train and love on our children. And I can't help but love you even more when I think of the rough and tough times we've made it through, stronger and more connected than when the tests began.
Being married to you has made my life overwhelmingly richer. With you, I always know that I have someone who knows the real me and loves me anyway! I pray for you daily. I pray that you continue to hear and know the voice of GOD and will always follow Him, trust Him, seek Him and know Him. I pray that you will continue to be the incredible husband and father and friend and man that you are. I pray for you to be strengthened and filled with the Spirit as you lead and guide our family.
You simply are my very best friend, my love and my soul-mate. I cannot imagine what life would be like without you. Every day I am more grateful for you. Becoming your wife, your helpmeet, your partner in marriage was the biggest blessing I have ever received! I would do it all over again in a heartbeat!
Happy Anniversary! I love you madly!
Yours forever, faithfully,
~prairie wife
Dear Prairie Husband,
I have been thinking about our years together. I realized long ago that it takes more than warm, fuzzy, amorous feelings to make a marriage and a home worth coming home to. A life of sharing and caring isn't by chance. A life of trusting another person with anything and everything isn't an accident. A life of holding on to one another, even when things are rocky or rough or incredibly tough, takes more than happy thoughts. It takes commitment. To each other. To the ideals of marriage as outlined in the Scriptures. To our GOD and to the promises we made to Him and each other. I thank Him every day for you, for us, for our relationship and our family.
Every day something I see or hear in you makes me love you more than I did the day we wed. -More than the first time we kissed. -More than I loved you yesterday. Every day I fall in love with you again. Sometimes it is simply the things that first attracted me to you, like how caring you are, or your sharp sense of integrity or your character. Perhaps it's your sense of humor or maybe it's your knack for knowing when to be just goofy enough to break the tension in a room. And I love that you have a soft, sentimental side, too, that often can't help but break through. Other times it's your wisdom or your determination or your good old fashioned work ethic that draws me to you. Sometimes it is the way you look at me or the touch of your hand, or a hug. Many days it's simply the constant knowing that you are there - always loyal, always protective, always loving.
I fall in love with you again when I think of all of our goals and dreams we've accomplished together and those that we still have our eye on. I fall for you again each time I watch you parent and train and love on our children. And I can't help but love you even more when I think of the rough and tough times we've made it through, stronger and more connected than when the tests began.
Being married to you has made my life overwhelmingly richer. With you, I always know that I have someone who knows the real me and loves me anyway! I pray for you daily. I pray that you continue to hear and know the voice of GOD and will always follow Him, trust Him, seek Him and know Him. I pray that you will continue to be the incredible husband and father and friend and man that you are. I pray for you to be strengthened and filled with the Spirit as you lead and guide our family.
You simply are my very best friend, my love and my soul-mate. I cannot imagine what life would be like without you. Every day I am more grateful for you. Becoming your wife, your helpmeet, your partner in marriage was the biggest blessing I have ever received! I would do it all over again in a heartbeat!
Happy Anniversary! I love you madly!
Yours forever, faithfully,
~prairie wife
rocket stoves to the rescue
1.9.2013
The men have spent nearly every spare moment this weekend working on a rocket stove invention that they'd like to perfect to use for home heating and water purification. They did the same last weekend. And the weekend before. And a few nights this last week after work/school. It is good to see them all wrapped up in manly things.
I know I keep saying this, but I am so thankful for the inventive spirit, intelligence, motivation and know-how of my husband and his ability to share that with our children and get them interested and excited about things.
Here, Prairie Husband is doing preliminary research and development on models that have gone before -- with the lap kitty's help, of course.
I know I keep saying this, but I am so thankful for the inventive spirit, intelligence, motivation and know-how of my husband and his ability to share that with our children and get them interested and excited about things.
Here, Prairie Husband is doing preliminary research and development on models that have gone before -- with the lap kitty's help, of course.
love sonnet from "patch adams" movie
12.27.2011
In the movie "Patch Adams", Robin Williams' character, "Patch", starts to read a beautiful poem to his love, Corrine.
The poem is Sonnet 17 of Pablo Neruda 100 Love Sonnets, available in English translation
by Stephen Tapscott. It is this translation (and portion) that Patch reads to Corrine in the movie. It still moves me every time I watch the movie.
The poem is Sonnet 17 of Pablo Neruda 100 Love Sonnets, available in English translation
by Stephen Tapscott. It is this translation (and portion) that Patch reads to Corrine in the movie. It still moves me every time I watch the movie.
I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way
than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep