Those of us who love being parents often have trouble letting go of our children when the time comes. Whether that’s sending them off to kindergarten, college, or marriage, the goodbyes always include a twinge of sadness (and sometimes a deluge of tears). As we practice at parting ways, though, we get better at it. Goodbyes may never be completely painless, but they can become less difficult.
Where we run into trouble is when we cling too tightly. As James Dobson often said, a parent’s most important task is to work themselves out of a job. Though we’ll always be the mom or dad, active parenting ought always to be on the decrease. If we refuse to release them, everything goes haywire.
I well remember my mentor, Aunt Joyce, going through this process when her daughter and son-in-law, along with two of her grandchildren, left for a distant mission field. My aunt told me how she wrestled with the Lord over his plan to “take them away” like that. Though she had released her daughter at the appropriate times along the way, this additional letting go seemed too much.
She described how the Lord worked with her to give her a new perspective. And when she came out the other side, she understood that letting go of her daughter and family meant she was participating in the Great Commission. By releasing rather than resisting, she was indirectly helping to spread the Gospel to the nations.
After that, though the goodbyes continued to be emotional, her changed perspective helped her. Lovingly letting go was the work God gave her to do, and by accepting the assignment, she got to participate in missions, too.
As I was raising 7 children, I never dreamed how many goodbyes there would be. The most difficult ones have been those involving thousands of miles and months of time. But in almost every case, those have been in the realm of missions, and remembering my mentor’s words has strengthened me to the task.
Tomorrow I’ll say goodbye to my firstborn once again as he heads for his next assignment with Youth with a Mission. This time his destination is 7342 miles from home, literally on the other side of the globe. When it’s noon for me, it will be midnight for him.
Though I won’t see him for several months, my job as his mother is the same as my aunt’s was: to release him with my enthusiastic blessing. God has one purpose in it for him and a different one for me. And both of us want to take advantage of what those are.
“Declare his glory among the nations, his marvelous works among all the peoples!” (Psalm 96:3)
