The Painful Years of Motherhood

One of the hardest things to do, as a Mother, is to watch your grown children out in the world. You hear about their trials and their struggles and you beg them to come home. . .

I have two adult children who live in the city.  They have done great things and are doing well. But every so often, over the years, terrible things happen and it breaks my heart. I want to save them. I want to have them home again, and for them to start over, and not leave until they feel ready.  But it is not for me to say. . .

When the worst of stories come, and the tears fall, I pray myself to sleep.  . . I read my Bible for comfort and I wait. . .

They know they are welcome here with us. They know they have a place to come home to. But they are still struggling through things I cannot stop.   Sometimes, I devise plans and say, "Well, you can have your old room back and we will do all the old fun things and it will be wonderful."  I am sure they sigh. I know it sounds good for a visit, but not to live back as a child.  An adult can never go back to those safe, secure years of living with Mother and Dad.  Still, I keep offering.

I realize these occasional heartaches are rare.  I realize that most of the time, they are fine and doing well.  Just like real life.  There are good times and horrible times.  None of us can predict trouble. We can't make life all rosy and sweet.  It is impossible.  Rough days will come. And even though it rends mother's heart with sorrow, we cannot take on the burden.  We give it to Him who knows all things.  We say, "Lord, take care of our children.  Lord, they are having trouble right now. You are in charge of them. Watch. . . and Guard. . . and protect them. . .  and get us all through this."

So I sit here at the estate. I sit on the porch or by the window and I wait for the day when they will come home.  The day they say, "I've had enough of the world and I want to start over."

 Someday, I will see them walk down the lane. Perhaps it is to come home for good. Or maybe it is to tell me they have found a better path and all is wonderful.  Whatever the case may be, tears of joy and relief will fall.  And those painful years will fade away as a distant memory.

blessings
Mrs. White

From the Archives -

For those sad times of Motherhood - Childhood Home as the Nursery.

Quiet occupations - How a Housewife Passes the Time.

A Picture of my Children when they were Little - Suppertime with Precious Helpers.