When We Don’t Want to Share

Have you ever just plain and simply not wanted to do something?  Not wanted to do it is so badly that you dug your heels into the ground kicking and screaming as you were forced to do it anyway?

Well, I have a confession to make.  That’s where I am right now.  It’s one of those times where I know what I aught to do and I so badly want to do it, but I just can’t wrestle my emotions into alignment.  Romans 7:15 (NLT) I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it.  Instead, I do what I hate.

What is it I don’t want to do you ask?  Honestly, I don’t want to SHARE.  Admitting these words out loud (on paper) makes me feel like a 3 year old child, but it’s the truth.  I don’t want to share my first born son this holiday season.  It’s the last two months we have him home and I want him all to myself.  I want to make each moment count.  

I am having trouble letting go.  Soon I won’t have the privilege of seeing his face each day, of hearing his voice from the other room.  I won’t get to listen in as my quiver of kids banter with one another in a way only my oldest can incite them to.  I won’t get to ask, “Where have you been?”, and listen to him wildly tell stories about exploits that would make all mothers cringe.  I am so going to miss him.

My love language is quality time and that is coming to a close.  So, how do I unfurl my fisted hands here?  How do I face this new chapter, a chapter completely unread?  

I have to intentionally stand on the promises of God.  I have to take my emotions, my attitude, my fears of the unknown and lay them before the King.  I have to leave them at His feet and trust that His will for my oldest is greater and better, will produce more fruit, and be more spiritually productive than any of my plans for my child could ever be.

If you too are struggling to lay something down, to let something go, would you pray along with me?  Gracious Heavenly, Father, I know that your ways and plans for (insert here) are far beyond anything I could ever imagine for (him/her/it).  I know that just like you feed the birds of the air and clothe the lilies of the field, you will take care of my (insert here).  No matter what happens, I can trust you and your ways.  Please help me to abide in you, to rest in the shadow of you Almighty, God.  To know that you are my refuge, my fortress, my God and I don’t need to fear this new chapter because you have written it and all of your ways are good.  In Jesus’ precious name I pray, Amen.