A Gift for Mom! 🤍

Let me set the record straight: I am terrible at holding my children loosely. So, there’s that.

However, I am an expert at knowing what I should do. Maybe this puts me in good company with the apostle Paul who lamented over why he kept doing the things he didn’t want to do. If that guy couldn’t follow his good intentions, then I think we can give ourselves some leeway and attagirls for trying our best.

When our kids are little, they need us for survival. Holding them snug is one way we provide comfort. As they grow up, we begin the slow process of letting go as they learn to do life on their own. From holding their own bottle, using a spoon, walking unattended, going to school, spending the night at a friend’s house, and taking the wheel. We spend our days watching in amazement over the progression toward independence.

While observing the natural milestones brings tremendous joy (along with a fair amount of trepidation at times), nothing prepares us for the trial of letting go of the emotional and mental wrangling that goes along with our kids’ walks toward and through adulthood. These less tangible realms can become hornet’s nests in our heart if we aren’t careful. So how do we avoid the sting?

The wisdom of Corrie Ten Boom rocked my world a few years back. She says the following:

“You must learn to hold everything loosely . . . everything. Even your dear family. Why? Because the Father may wish to take one of them back to Himself, and when He does, it will hurt you if He must pry your fingers loose.”

Not sure about you, but her words lit me up, exposing the truth about my death-grip-attachment tendencies. My weakness is holding my kids too tight in trying to protect them from pain, adversity, and struggle As if I have any power or control beyond God’s almighty ability to work out things for good in their lives.

My mental and emotional clinging looks like a mental script of what ifs and what thens: What if he can’t overcome this struggle? What if her prayer isn’t answered the way she hopes? What if he can’t find his way? What if she can’t figure this out, then what? What if his choice means that consequence?

The inner wrangling often translates into fearful conjecture, unsolicited advice, and a tendency to focus more on the problem instead of the problem solver, Jesus. Sometimes the problems we see aren’t even a reality in our kid’s lives. We see things not as they are, but as we are.

Which is why I think Corrie’s encouragement is divinely on point. Just imagine if, as mommas, we held on loosely to the following related to our kids:

  1. Our expectations (about anything)
  2. Our dreams for their future
  3. Our ideas about what’s best
  4. Our notions of what’s right
  5. Our concerns about their decisions
  6. Our worry over their struggles

If God has to pry our fingers off these areas of mothering, and He will, it’s gonna hurt like Hades. Trust me when I say I continue to experience the reckoning. The arthritis in my knuckles is proof.

But what does letting go or holding loosely look like? How much do we let go? All the way? A little? Only in certain areas?

Also, if we let go, won’t our kids fall? I’ve learned the answer is, no. Instead, they will find freedom. Freedom to grow, learn from their mistakes, build resolve, find strength, and trust in God to guide them and carry the load when they are unable.

We find freedom as well. Freedom to breathe by letting go of fear. We hold our kids loosely in the form of prayer and surrender. If there’s anyone who should be holding our kids tight, it’s the One who gave our kids to us on loan in the first place. God really does have their best interest in mind—and ours! He will always be there for both of us, in both the highs and the lows.

Let’s do our best to hold on loosely, mommas, so God can get a grip.

Originally published on the author’s blog

You may also like:

Dear Teenagers, Be Patient While I Let Go

My Heart is Learning to Let You Go

Want more stories of love, family, and faith from the heart of every home, delivered straight to you? Sign up here!

So God Made a Grandmother book by Leslie Means

If you liked this, you'll love our book, SO GOD MADE A GRANDMA

Order Now!

Shelby Spear

A self-described sappy soul whisperer, sarcasm aficionado, and love enthusiast, Shelby is a mom of 3 Millennials writing about motherhood and life from her empty nest. She is the co-author of the book, How Are You Feeling, Momma? (You don't need to say, "I'm fine.") , and you can find her stories in print at Guideposts, around the web at sites like Her View From Home, For Every Mom, Parenting Teens & Tweens and on her blog shelbyspear.com.

I Lost My Sight at 16—But It Wasn’t the End of My Vision

In: Faith
Cross and sunset

After my father shot me, I lay in a hospital bed, and my world went dark. I was 16 years old. The injury left me completely blind. But the darkness didn’t stop there. As my physical sight disappeared, something else came into focus—the depth of the wounds I had carried long before that moment, wounds I had never fully allowed myself to see. For years, I had learned how to survive without asking too many questions. I had learned how to minimize what hurt, how to explain things away, how to keep moving forward as if everything were normal. But...

Keep Reading

Ministry Starts Inside Your Own Four Walls

In: Faith
Family around a table

When people hear the word ministry, they often think of missionaries, or the pastor who preaches every Sunday, but in our home, ministry belongs to all of us—even our kids. Growing up, I didn’t think of myself as a ministry kid. Still, when my dad packed our old Astro for the summer and we all piled in, we were on mission. Each kid had a part to play in my dad’s evangelical magic shows (yes, you read that right!). My brother would juggle, my older sister sang, my middle sister flipped the projector slides that shone pictures of Jesus on...

Keep Reading

These Holy Small Things

In: Faith, Motherhood
Children sewing at machine

My 8-year-old-daughter has recently taken up sewing, to my simultaneous delight and chagrin. My delight because I too love sewing; my chagrin because her enthusiasm often outpaces my own abilities, namely, in the undertaking of tedious projects with no pattern. Take, for example, the cloth doll diaper we designed and stitched up together. Granted, the design was fairly basic to draw up and scale. But the minuscule nature of the work, both for my hands and head, was enough to throw me into existential questioning. It was one of those moments when you wonder how the sum of your life...

Keep Reading

Life Lessons from My Grown Children

In: Faith, Motherhood
Two women's hands on teacups

“Don’t limit a child to your own learning, for he was born in another time.” – Rabindranath Tagore Quietly communing with a loved one in the early morning hours is such an intimate and precious time. Visiting with one’s grown child when all is dark and still is one of life’s purest pleasures. I remember the conversation clearly. My daughter’s husband, small children, and father were all asleep as we whispered and chatted. She and I are both fidgeters by nature, unable to be still for long. This inner restlessness must be remedied, and we are compelled by biology to...

Keep Reading

My Prayer Is Simple Now: “I Believe; Help My Unbelief.”

In: Faith
Woman sitting by water

I have spent most of my life in faith. Not circling it or analyzing it from a distance, but inside it—learning its language before I even realized I was learning it, shaping myself around it in ways that felt as natural as breathing. I was raised in Christian Science, which is a very particular kind of faith. It’s not really about “believing” in the way most people think. It’s about understanding. Aligning your thoughts with what is ultimately true about God and reality. If you can understand rightly, you can be well. If you can see clearly, healing follows. So...

Keep Reading

Your Worth Is Not Someone Else’s To Measure

In: Faith, Living
Woman looking over canyon

Insecurity is something we all carry in one form or another. For me, it has probably always looked confident and outgoing from the outside. But internally, it can feel heavy, complicated, and exhausting at times. And when someone comes along whose behavior reinforces those insecurities, it amplifies what was already there. There was someone I had hoped to genuinely connect with, but it was clear from the start that the feeling wasn’t mutual. From the beginning, their wall was up. No matter how kind I tried to be or how carefully I showed up, it never came down. Their distance...

Keep Reading

Lord, Give Me Faith Like Hannah

In: Faith
Woman walking in field with hand in wheat

Hannah knew what it was like to feel forgotten. She often clutched her empty womb and thought Surely the Lord has forgotten me.  She knew the bitter sting of feeling isolated and alone. She knew the anguish of praying day after day after day and seeing no fruit, not even a bud, from her faithfulness. Hannah knew what it was like to feel like the weight of the world was on her, and her hope may have dwindled. Even those around her did not offer encouragement. Quite the opposite—they did their best to sow seeds of discouragement. Yet Hannah pressed...

Keep Reading

God Carries Me Through the Deep Waters of Change

In: Faith, Living, Motherhood
Woman at the beach as waves come in

“Ahhh!” My underwater scream garbled in my snorkel tube as the manta ray’s cavernous mouth swept a hand’s distance from my face. My fingers tightened around the surfboard until my knuckles ached. My arms trembled. I jerked my head side to side, searching for my daughters, Mia and Megan. Recent college graduates, they had joined me on one last mother-daughter vacation before launching their adult lives. They floated easily on the vibrant Hawaiian water, relaxed, trusting. I wanted to borrow their calm. Earlier, our guide had explained that the LED lights built into the surfboard attracted plankton the way college...

Keep Reading

Faith After a Rare Disease Diagnosis

In: Faith, Motherhood
Family smiling in posed photo

My pastor frequently speaks of “kid pain” and acknowledges there’s nothing like it. I can testify to that. After nine months of uncertainty and unexplained issues following the birth of our now 4-year-old daughter, Harlow, we finally received her diagnosis of Pyruvate Dehydrogenase Complex Deficiency (PDCD), a life-limiting mitochondrial disease with no cure and no FDA-approved treatments. It was heartbreaking. In moments like these, a parent can fall into complete desperation. You go through a range of emotions almost too fast to name: fear for your child’s life; anxiousness about how much time you’ll get with them; overwhelming grief. And...

Keep Reading

What If I Don’t Hear God’s Voice?

In: Faith
Woman with folded hands looking up

There have been many times over the years when I’ve heard others share stories of how the Lord spoke to them or gave them a sign. Seashells scattered along a sandy beach, numbered to represent how many children they would have. A quiet walk in the park, followed by a clear sense that another little one was coming. What a blessing, I think, when I hear and read their stories. I often wonder how much more faith they must have than I do—to know with such certainty that what they heard was truly God speaking. I listen, I smile, and...

Keep Reading