As a parent, I think the hardest thing to endure is to watch your child hurt; physically, emotionally, spiritually. You want to take on all of their suffering, endure their burdens for them, no matter the cause. Of course, part of life is enduring the many obstacles, mountains, and anguish that life gives and doing so provides life lessons, builds character, and establishes a reality about life. Whether it's a pain that is as small as the prick of a finger or the devastation that comes with real loss, both are as painful (if not more) for the parent as for the child. And even though I haven't been at this parenting thing very long, I don't imagine that watching your child suffer gets any easier--in fact, I am sure that as children grow and life's pain is more tangible, the experience is harder on Mom & Dad. But that pain, those hardships, those mountains have to be climbed by children, no matter how much as a parent, you wish you could stand in their place.
I have been very fortunate that I have not had to steer my children, yet, through too many painful moments. Of course, there have been scraped knees, hurt feelings, and wonder if God really answers prayers. We have endured a couple of surgeries, some bunk bed calamities, and even some real tears, but we have not bared the burdens that some people have. We've been blessed.
Tonight was one of those times when I prayed with my child to ease his burden and heavy heart. Ian's great grandfather (his biological mother's paternal grandfather) passed away from a heart attack. Ian had not seen him in about a year but there was a time in his life when he saw him once a month and they both shared a love of trains. I wasn't sure what to expect from Ian when Josh and I told him. Kids react to death far differently than adults and Ian hasn't really lost anyone close to him at this age, where he actually understands what is happening.
His reaction was at first a little shock and then came the tears. As my arms swallowed him, I felt my own tears sting my face. Not because I knew this man particularly well but because I know my child holds a place of love in his own heart for him. I whispered words of comfort while simultaneously praying for guidance. Ian was upset that he didn't get to see him one more time. I was kicking myself for not taking him to visit over the last year. I used this as an opportunity to remind him that none of us ever know when our time on Earth is over and that it is important to always treat every day and every encounter with others like it might be a last time. He sobbed harder. And my heart broke harder and the quiet tears falling from my eyes started to dampen his hair.
Then he looked up at me, tears suddenly stopped, and asked, "Mom, was Grandpa Dale baptized?" I felt the panic hit my throat because I honestly didn't know the answer. He continued, "Because if he wasn't, he didn't go to Heaven and I will never get a chance to see him again." My breath left me. On one hand, I was a very proud Momma. For a child to grasp even that much of Eternity is remarkable. But at the same time, I knew I had to tread carefully. I didn't want to upset his tender mind and heart---Ian is a worrier and he would spend the rest of his life pondering his own part in someone else's eternity. That is the heart that God gave him.
I just wrapped him in my arms and whispered that this conversation was one he needed to have with his grandfather, PawPaw Mike, and then I began to pray. Out loud, I thanked God for Ian, for his love of people, his heart of compassion, his precious kindness. I prayed for his comfort and peace, for his burdened heart to be lightened. I also prayed that the Lord would use all of Ian's special gifts, to give him guidance on the man he is supposed to become. I prayed for my own guidance to help him become that man. And I prayed that Ian would always know God's love and grace, that he would never abandon the heart he has now, and that he would always care about the eternity of those around him. We sat quietly for a few minutes and then he looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "You are the best gift God has ever given to me, Momma. I really mean that. I hope you know I am always going to remember this moment and you praying over me like that. I felt God holding us right then, loving us together. We are something special, you and me." Yes we are, Ian. So special.
Ian went to bed shortly after and he seemed comforted. I sat on the couch and quietly prayed a prayer of thanks for God allowing me to raise this special child. What a gift. To love him. To share such a touching moment with him. Truly something special.
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