**WARNING....this post might rate a Kleenex or four. To be safe, you might just want to grab a hanky. Should you choose not to heed this warning, you only have yourself to blame. You had your chance.**
Want to know how to completely reduce a normally VERY happy-go-lucky twelve year old to tears? No one REALLY wants to know how to do this, but I learned how today. My twelve year old came home from school to find the contents of our home boxed up and stacked like L*gos. Obviously, it drove the reality of this move to a very deep and painful place. I didn't hear him come in the house...I didn't hear him come into the room. All the sudden he was there and then just as suddenly, he was in my arms. SOBBING. Aware that there were strangers in the room, but not caring. These were the shameless, unrestrained tears of a broken heart. A child with a broken heart is a pitiful thing...it's unnatural. What's a mother to do? If she's me, she cries. Dolly Parton put it best, "I have a strict policy: No one cries alone in my presence!"
Tonight, this is my prayer....
I pray that his faith in God's plan for our family does not waiver. I pray that his faith in God's plan for his life remains unshaken. This child radiates a certain sense of joy...rainbow colored joy...and I pray that this joy would make it impossible for doubt, fear and intimidation to take root. I pray that he is filled with the peace that passes all understanding. I pray that the tears don't fall quite as easily as they did, today. I pray that he truly knows he is loved beyond anything he can imagine. I pray that he will find wonderful friends in his new school and that he would fall in like he's always been there. I pray that he knows it's okay to feel this hurt and that he's not alone...we're all feeling the pain of this move in a very deep way. I pray that I am not dismissive or cavalier with his tender heart and fragile spirit. I pray that he uses this experience and other life lessons learned to be a blessing to those around him. I also pray that should he ever end up in therapy, that he will be able to speak kindly of me!! (That last comment is nothing but what happens when you do SEVERAL shots of steaming-hot-mother-guilt!)
We had supper with friends, tonight, and as we drove the length of Hwy. 280, I knew the familiar sights were tugging at his heart. At one point along the way, he asked: "Before we leave town, can we go to St*rbuck's?" Of course, I told him we absolutely would!
What he doesn't know is that I'd buy him his own store if it made the pain of this move go away.
Want to know how to completely reduce a normally VERY happy-go-lucky twelve year old to tears? No one REALLY wants to know how to do this, but I learned how today. My twelve year old came home from school to find the contents of our home boxed up and stacked like L*gos. Obviously, it drove the reality of this move to a very deep and painful place. I didn't hear him come in the house...I didn't hear him come into the room. All the sudden he was there and then just as suddenly, he was in my arms. SOBBING. Aware that there were strangers in the room, but not caring. These were the shameless, unrestrained tears of a broken heart. A child with a broken heart is a pitiful thing...it's unnatural. What's a mother to do? If she's me, she cries. Dolly Parton put it best, "I have a strict policy: No one cries alone in my presence!"
Tonight, this is my prayer....
I pray that his faith in God's plan for our family does not waiver. I pray that his faith in God's plan for his life remains unshaken. This child radiates a certain sense of joy...rainbow colored joy...and I pray that this joy would make it impossible for doubt, fear and intimidation to take root. I pray that he is filled with the peace that passes all understanding. I pray that the tears don't fall quite as easily as they did, today. I pray that he truly knows he is loved beyond anything he can imagine. I pray that he will find wonderful friends in his new school and that he would fall in like he's always been there. I pray that he knows it's okay to feel this hurt and that he's not alone...we're all feeling the pain of this move in a very deep way. I pray that I am not dismissive or cavalier with his tender heart and fragile spirit. I pray that he uses this experience and other life lessons learned to be a blessing to those around him. I also pray that should he ever end up in therapy, that he will be able to speak kindly of me!! (That last comment is nothing but what happens when you do SEVERAL shots of steaming-hot-mother-guilt!)
We had supper with friends, tonight, and as we drove the length of Hwy. 280, I knew the familiar sights were tugging at his heart. At one point along the way, he asked: "Before we leave town, can we go to St*rbuck's?" Of course, I told him we absolutely would!
What he doesn't know is that I'd buy him his own store if it made the pain of this move go away.
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