9.10.2013

M.I.A. (Mother In Agony)-Re-Post

"Earnest Prayer" by Artist C. Michael Dudash


My daughter is experiencing "growing pains".
I, her mother, am as well.
I must confess.
 I hate it.
I long for the days when, 
while standing at the sink washing dishes,
two little arms clutched my leg and
two Junior Mint eyes
 stared up at me-
full of adoration.

As opposed to,
eyes rolling.

Where has the time gone?

She is eleven. She may as well be eleven hundred.
She is as foreign to me as a far-away country-
she may as well be
 geographically.
It feels that way.

Distant.

It's as if someone has kidnapped my daughter and left
in her place, a rebellious teenager.
Stop!
She is not a teenager.
Was I like this at eleven?

I squint, as I try to force an age related memory out of my aging, uncool mind.
It seems such an awkward age.
I remember that feeling.
Awkward.

All too soon she is rushing away from me and into-
the danger years.
I remember those.

"This too shall pass" does not suffice.
Well meaning advice, from the
judge and jury crew
is not helpful.

Grace is needed.
Grace received.
Grace remembered.
Grace remaining for the days ahead.
I need more.

I remember, her nursing at my breast.
Precious, needy, hungry.
Contentedly,
peeking up at me
with one eye.
Always watching.

Now, a closed door.

Unseen.

I hate it.

I remember stroller walks on brisk days,
and seeing two eyes
peering through a snugly afghan,
draped over the canopy top.

Her eyes always watching me.
My eyes always watching her.

Connected.

Today our conversation turned to confrontation,
She disappeared again,
to the haven of her room.
A million miles away.
Door closed.

Shut out.

Yeah, I'm having growing pains.
Some days I'm not sure I'll make it.
I ponder where I have gone wrong already,
and how I'll redeem the remaining time.

Some days I fear the worst is yet to come.

Then I think back to hose little eyes
and their history of watching me.

 I ask for more grace for the day,
and for the love I don't possess,
apart from the One who is Himself
Love and whose pool is never dry.

It is on this One -
utterly dependent,
I rely.

©Dawn Paoletta 2011-2013


*This is a re-post originally written and posted on 10/22/11.

Linking with my friends at dVerse for OLN!

Also linking with these communities of bloggers:
My Daily Walk in His Grace
Imperfect Prose 
Cozy Reading Spot

17 comments:

  1. Oh my heart! This is so good. A mother's prayer of such deep heart love. Thanks for sharing it! Bless you, and her.

    ReplyDelete
  2. aww... I'm still a young'n (21) and I def remember going thru that stage... for a while I felt like I knew it all, but then I (slowly) realized I knew nothing and got off my high horse... I think the biggest lesson pre-teens/teens get out of those soft of "I stand alone" stages is realizing that you have to learn how to live life from a whole new perspective. At least, that's what got out of it... smiles

    ReplyDelete
  3. *sort of* darn typos... forgot to add lovely write too!!

    ReplyDelete
  4. Love this so much, my friend. My daughter is 21 and I am still praying daily for the grace and love I don't have on my own.

    ReplyDelete
  5. its not an easy walk through those years for sure...so much influence pushing in on their lives that you are competing with...its the relationship we have built prior that will carry us through...for sure...

    ReplyDelete
  6. My youngest daughter is 13 and she has been a challenge for the last few years. I continue to get on my knees, asking for His grace. Beautiful write!

    ReplyDelete
  7. Thank you for bringing back the precious memories of those little eyes watching me, it is a balm to my heart. His Grace is what I cling to.

    ReplyDelete
  8. Lovely poem! I've not found myself in that situation quite yet, but I do understand the feeling of being insufficient and without love for others. :) Thanks for sharing at Winsome Wed.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I, too, long for those sweeter, happier, innocent times. I'd gladly take dirty diaper changing over door slamming right now. The eye rolling, the lingo I'm not quite sure I understand (or WANT to understand), the daily disappearing act, the looks of disgust like daggers aimed my way, the adverse influence of her school friends...all of it is just too much.

    But even worse is my girl's sudden & fierce rejection of God and church...where did THAT come from? She says it's my fault, she is sick of how I make everything about God...I've suffocated her and forced 'religion' down her throat. Have mercy, Lord...did I?

    And yes...that 'This too shall pass' just isn't cutting it for me, Dawn. It all pierces my heart.

    I fished out that book, 'Praying For Your Prodigal Daughter.' Looking to glean some hope and encouragement from that.

    Thank you for sharing your heart about this, dear BBFF. I'm not happy you are going through this, but it is good to know I'm not alone on this hard path.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I have four girls 19 through 11. Enough said :) Very nice poem.

    ReplyDelete
  11. So sorry my dear friend. This is a hard and unfair job we have and you have my prayers once again. Susie

    ReplyDelete
  12. After 11 all you can do is pray. She may come back to a peaceful place. She will pick her own church and be glad in it. It does pass.

    ReplyDelete
  13. The fact that you care means that you have not gone wrong. It is the same with my 12 year old. I believe it is a part of finding who they are and becoming independent responsible adults. Otherwise they would be with us forever, dependent, and unable to face the difficult world. Of course this does not make it any easier. Thanks for sharing.

    ReplyDelete
  14. Where do the years go ? A lovely write.

    ReplyDelete
  15. oh friend... how i'm dreading those teenage years. may God reconcile the two of you and may you hold on to hope...

    ReplyDelete

walk along the shore with me and leave your footprints in the sand-
I'm listening, friend...in November I will not be replying so often, but instead slip quietly over to your place for a visit. ;)