I walk the line


As Elizabeth is seemingly growing up right in front of my eyes, day by day, minute by minute. I'm finding it harder and harder to determine where to draw my line in the proverbial sand. My greatest desire is that she would grow to be a woman who loves the Lord with all her heart, soul, mind and strength. But until she is grown, I know that it is our job, as her parents, to guide and direct her, keeping her under our wing until the proper time.

Lately, my biggest struggle is knowing there are certain aspects of her life where she is ready for me to let go and not be involved in every detail. This firstborn baby of mine can tie her shoes, bathe herself, pick out her own outfits and no longer needs me to help her explain to others what she's trying to say. She is developing friendships that are outside of mine and Luke's circle of friends. Before, all of her friends were the children of our friends. But now, she's established friendships with other kids in her Sunday School class, great kids, but we aren't necessarily great friends with their family.

It's fine line that I'm finding myself walking. The line of knowing when she's big enough to do things I've always done for her and the line of realizing that she's still so little in so many ways. And the part that I think overwhelms me the most about this line I'm walking is knowing this is only the beginning.

My heart both rejoices and grieves these new milestones. I soar with pride as I watch my oldest daughter help a younger sibling just because she wants to. I love watching her tote Olivia around on her hip and "mother" Ella when she casually passes her by. My heart wants to burst when I hear of her making good choices even when we are not around. I take pride in the young girl that she is when I see her encourage a friend on the soccer field. I delight in her heart for the Lord when she shares, without hesitation, just what Jesus means to her. And I'm overwhelmed with the lady she's growing into when she comes to me and takes ownership of a mistake she's made.

Yet I grieve the loss of knowing that with each new step she needs me less and less. She's moving from small child into a big kid with her own thoughts, hobbies, relationships and desires that are separate from mine. She requires less and less of me for her physical needs and our role is shifting into an area where my focus for her is more on her spiritual and mental development rather than just feeding her, redirecting her and making sure she's clean.

And even though I'm thrilled with this new role I find myself in, where I'm less responsible for doing things for her in the day to day, my heart continues to throb over the loss of the days that I know are already gone and the ways that she will never need me to help her again. From here forward it's a dance I will have to learn as I go, knowing when to step in and instruct and when to let her learn for herself, sometimes even watching her fall.

I'm realizing more than ever just what a blessing it is to parent a child who does not rely on you for their every, single physical need. It's a bittersweet moment of holding on and letting go. Yes, I know 6 years old is young and she will still need me for many more years. But I'm getting a sampling of what's to come. A taste of what it looks likes to be a mother to someone who is their own person and no longer just and extension of yourself. I love watching her do things at her own pace, in her own style and with her own processes. I get the hugest thrill out of seeing her create something from her very own mind.

But I'm still learning to walk the line between her being totally dependent on me and allowing her to go and do without me being her security. It's a fine line I'm finding myself walking and I'm so blessed that God has given me this sweet gift. Because truly there's no other line I'd rather walk.