My beloved husband had just left for the overnight worship service and I was already running late for my viewing of the live webcast of it, so I asked my daughter Hannah to bring the vaio and all its attachments (speaker, charger, mouse, HDMI cable). Then I leaned on my propped-up pillows because I felt weak and quite exhausted (I have been feeling these and other difficulties the past week).
One of the maids was in and out of the room fixing for the night and Tim also was there drawing, so I didn’t notice when Hannah dumped the vaio on a corner table far from me and hurriedly left. When I saw it I asked one of the maids where she was (I was hoping she went to get the speaker but I doubted it; I knew how negligent she was). I called for her three times. I waited patiently. I wasn’t feeling well and already an hour late for the live webcast.
When she finally came into the room, I asked her calmly and quietly, “Hannah, is this the way you serve? You just dump everything on a corner table which I can’t even reach?” There was sadness and resignation in my voice. Maybe even before she came into the room she already had that sullen look, but at my words, I noticed it. Instead of saying sorry, she displayed a silent resentment as she went about fixing the attachments of the vaio. My heart sank.
Just a few days before, she came to me requesting for a new sporty shirt and matching skirt as costume for their batch dinner in school. Right away, I arranged for someone to buy them in Mega Mall.
I felt so deeply hurt and disappointed to see that she was becoming disrespectful and ungrateful. And lacking in love. Her Dad and I have been observing her behavior for a long time now. We often remind her and teach her. We read and study the Bible. I pray with her. We meet and discuss about loving and caring for and respecting others. I urge (no, plead) her and Tim to fervently love and be kind to one another. With love and tears, prayers and persistence, I teach them.
After I rebuked her now for her attitude, she walked out of the room, but I called her again. Even though my breath was coming in gasps and my left chest was tightening, I wanted to fix this. I needed to. I was —- desperate.
I cried uncontrollably because I was sick and felt weak and inadequate.
I cried because I wanted to spend all my days and weeks and months and years (as the Lord would have mercy upon me) only loving and being gentle and kind. I cried because I never wanted to blow it all up.
I cried because I didn’t want to displease the Lord but to be always pleasing in His sight to obtain His favor.
I cried because I was losing my Hannah to bad attitudes, to typical teenage problems perhaps (I don’t know, I don’t have a clue!), to peer pressure and influence outside of our family and Church…
I cried because I didn’t want to lose our closeness, our good friendship. I cried because I always wished I would always be her best friend, my company she would always seek. I cried because she was changing and slowly going farther away.
I cried because I didn’t want her to be hardly reachable. I cried because I long for her.
After I was left alone in the room and had recovered from my difficulties, I sat up. And prayed. I prayed for myself, for strength in all aspects, for wisdom, and for love that can cover all.
And I prayed for my daughter, laying her down at the Savior’s feet. I prayed and asked for help until there was no more tears left. Then His peace that passes all understanding enveloped me. The Lord made me know that I needed not shoulder all the burdens of motherhood. My hands are not enough to handle them. He gave me the ministry of motherhood, not to carry it out on my own strength and wisdom, but always with His strength and wisdom and constant help. It is a partnership with Him.
So I will stand by my daughter (even though sometimes she makes me feel like she doesn’t want me there, hovering over her) as my Lord stands by me. By the abundant grace of God, I will be a very present exemplary figure in her life (and my son’s) as my Lord is my very present help and guide. There is no quitting this.
Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. (Psalm 127:3).
I might be linking up with these lovely blogs.
Journey with Jesus,