Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Seedlings

My roots are deep enough that I can stand despite strong storms and winds without toppling. Drought parches, but there is an extensive underpinning to absorb each precious drop of life-sustaining water. In flood, those same roots may be the very thing that prevents tender shoots from washing away rather than holding firm. These thoughts expand out into further examples beginning with the Parable of the Sower in Luke 8 this morning. This familiar passage called to me in response to thoughts preoccupied with roots in relation to parent/child relationships.
The preschool years passed in a blur of "please", "thank you", "uh-oh", "share". The elementary years expanded on the teachings intended to impart faith, integrity, responsibility, and perhaps even good manners to our offspring. Middle school brought new challenges as the continued teaching and training of our children began the natural transition toward guidance as we begin the time-honored process of slowly easing back while our precious children gain increasing independence. As parents, every effort has been made to plant good seeds in the fertile hearts and minds of our lovies.
Having sown to the best of our ability, we are stepping back to see what will be reaped in time. The beginning of high school brings the greatest challenges yet faced in gracefully giving our children the freedom to become the young men and women in whom we hope to delight. The soil has been prepared for them, and we will seek to give them the emotional, physical, spiritual, and relational equivalents of water, clean air, nutrients, and sunlight in which to grow. The mister and I have sown good seeds, but it is up to them to bloom where they are planted upon transplantation from the home garden.

3 comments:

The Big Burbs said...

So true. Mike and I have been having many of the same thoughts lately. Your post is a good reminder to for me since I have more of problem letting go in the manner that the kids need me to.

Fannie said...

Yup, it's JUST like that.

Anonymous said...

That's a perfect analogy.