Holding on and letting go

A couple of Sundays ago during the children's time during worship, a grandfather brought a little boy to the front to participate. The little boy approached with his trusted grandfather, and he would stay and listen, but he would not let go of his grandfather's finger.  He would be brave, but he needed that connection. It was trust and love, personified. Beautiful.

This is how we start with our children.  We hold their hands. I remember always holding the hands of my boys as we crossed the streets together. I remember not letting go of the buggy in the grocery store if they were in it - just to keep them safe. I remember walking on the beach, and making sure they were in front of us, so that we could see them. When they are young, we are their protection. As parents, we are what protects them from harm, if we can. We try.

As they grow, we let go. We have raised them to become adults, and being an adult means making mistakes, being brave, being independent. It is hard, but it is what we have raised them to do.

I'm so proud of our sons, and the men they have become and are becoming. I remember holding their hands, and I am (I pray) brave enough to trust in what we have taught them, and to let go.

I am blessed that God will never let go of them.