Jonathan is like me in that when something important happens, his first inclination is to tell someone else about it. Only then does he feel like it really happened. Upon returning home from school or any activity, he always needs some talk time before moving on with life. I appreciate this, because I love learning what's going on in his heart.I am also aware of how much of his life I miss. Recently on a day off, I took Jonathan to his former school's recess to visit his old classmates. I sat with the teachers at the edge of the gym, watching the children play what looked like an ordinary game of basketball.
In the car on the way home, I asked Jonathan if he had had a chance to talk to his friend Abby. Abby was one of his favorite kindergarten friends due to a shared love of chasing games and a common understanding regarding all things silly.
Jonathan replied that during the course of our visit, Abby had approached him a number of times trying to find out which girl in the class he liked best, returning to her giggling friends each time he said, "I love everybody." How much I missed! And I was sitting right there!
More difficult for this mama grizzly bear is that Jonathan's classmates have grown sophisticated enough to inflict real pain by their words and actions. Yesterday at recess, a boy Jonathan admires told him that if Jonathan would give him his basketball, this boy would let him be on his team. Instead, he took the ball away and only allowed his other friends to play.
This little incident probably affected me more than Jonathan. How mean! How unjust! I imagined myself stomping down to the playground and giving this 7-year old punk a piece of my mind.It quickly brought back memories of some of my own school injustices. It also makes me think of all the moments he will face without me, trials and pain more scarring and consequential.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes.
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes.
How much does a mom protect? When does she step in? When does she let him handle it on his own? How does she teach him compassion toward others?
Once again I can only depend on a Father much wiser, kinder, and compassionate than myself, who knows exactly how to help us grow through trials, and is beside us all the way.
2 comments:
Letting "go" is hard. So so hard. But I believe there is some phrase out there that says something along the lines of we have to let them go so they can stand on their own.
If he's anything like you, he'll turn out just fine!
we miss you guys
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