Learning to Hold Hands Open

We were married thirteen years before becoming parents. Knowing we had a lot of growing up and learning to do, we first chose to wait. Then, when we thought we were ready, the choice was not ours to make.

Years of waiting and longing for this moment, loss of one child by miscarriage, when that baby finally arrives, you find yourself standing face to face with fear.

Desperate longing, followed by answered prayer, can leave us living in fear of losing what we finally hold. Even without the waiting and longing, holding precious life in your hands can find us living with an anxiety we did not know lingered within us.

What I did not fully grasp at the time was how much I was learning in the waiting. Undiagnosed and unaware, I had been living with anxiety my entire life. I had simply learned to mask it with control. If I controlled the situations and circumstances around me, I could avoid the feelings anxiety created.

You know what you can’t control? Other people, including your children.

Yes, you can attempt to control the environment of your home by setting rules, schedules, and expectations. However, you cannot control how a child will respond or react. You cannot decide when they will fall asleep or wake up, if they will follow your directions or test your limits. And no matter how hard you try or how cautious you are, you can not ensure they will always be safe.

Finally, I am a mom, holding a miracle five-pound baby and a far heavier amount of fear.

Here is where the learning from that season of waiting steps in. Not too long before, I participated in a study on 1 Samuel and found myself relating to Hannah’s story. Hannah longed and prayed for a child, yet when God granted her that desire, she did not hold onto him in fear. She gave him back to God.

“I prayed for this child, and the Lord has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the Lord. For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.” I Samuel 1:27-28 (NIV)

I knew the only way to release the constant fear was to release this baby back to God. Now don’t get me wrong, that did not mean I decided and fear and anxiety were gone. I take medication for anxiety because it’s rarely as simple as a one-time decision or a heartfelt prayer.

However, I began to release the fear as I laid this child in bed at night, holding my hands open with a prayer.

“God, you love this child far more than I can dare to dream or imagine. I prayed for this child, and you have given him to us to care for, but now I give him back to you. Love and protect him when and how we can not.”

Three years after our first child, we were gifted with a second child. And once again, I found myself back in that place holding fear and anxiety afresh. It has been an ongoing process, finding myself holding onto fear, which has caused me to cling too tightly to my children and the role of mom. And then having to go back to that prayer, releasing them back to God as their ultimate protector and provider.

Remember how Hannah said, “For his whole life he will be given over to the Lord.”

When it comes to our children, letting go is an ongoing process —a step-by-step release. When they are little, we can fool ourselves into believing we are in control by setting schedules and creating routines. Yet, with each season of their growth, we must let go of something.

Sending that child to school, we release our control over the friends they play with and the things they learn. Allowing them to walk down the street to their friend’s house, eventually to school, is another significant step in letting go. As they grow, the steps become larger and more complex to navigate.

So we go back to holding our hands open and praying,
“God, you love this child far more than I can dare to dream or imagine. I prayed for this child, and you have given him to us to care for, but now I give him back to you. Love and protect him when and how we can not.”

You blink, and that five-pound baby is a two-hundred-pound linebacker, walking down in his cap and gown, graduating from high school. Your hands desperately wish to hold on, and fear comes flooding back. Yet you remember your prayer, and you pry those hands open, because you know this emerging adult is ready to fly. And you know you’ve released him to someone who loves him far more than you can dare to imagine.

Desperate longing, followed by answered prayer, can leave us living in fear of losing what we finally hold. Yet it is in releasing back to God the gifts given that we find ourselves fully present to love and live well the life we have today.”
Joy Marker