Reflection:
Having grown children is hard.
I cannot walk their path for them, nor carry their choices in my hands. I can only be their mother—no more, no less.
I watch from the horizon, where the morning light begins to rise, and I see them moving through this lifetime. Some days, the shadows stretch long, and my heart aches with the weight of what I cannot change. Other days, the light breaks through, and I am reminded that God sees them more clearly than I ever could.
So I stand here, not in control, but in love. Not in my strength, but in His. For the same God who carries me will also carry them, even when they cannot see it yet.
I cannot walk their path for them, nor carry their choices in my hands. I can only be their mother—no more, no less.
I watch from the horizon, where the morning light begins to rise, and I see them moving through this lifetime. Some days, the shadows stretch long, and my heart aches with the weight of what I cannot change. Other days, the light breaks through, and I am reminded that God sees them more clearly than I ever could.
So I stand here, not in control, but in love. Not in my strength, but in His. For the same God who carries me will also carry them, even when they cannot see it yet.
