His Masterpiece

The other day I received a text message from one of my best friends. Her oldest graduated from high school and over the summer will be getting ready to move to Chattanooga where her daughter will attend college. I texted her back how excited I was, but I knew deep down she was sad to see her go. Then my cell phone rang.

No more texting. We needed our voices. We cried together and I made her promise that she would walk this very same road with me too, very soon.

It’s moments like these that you remember everything is for a season.

When our children are born we receive a blank canvas. Nothing on it. No color, no landscape, nothing. As a mother we are the paint brush and God is the Painter. As our children grow, the paint brush (us) begin to add the colors and with each brush stroke the Painter guides each direction the paint colors move.

Some colors are bright and vivid, others are calm and cool.

It’s in the moment when the canvas is complete the Painter gently let’s go of the paint brush and with His hands takes the painting to the place He knows everyone will enjoy.

Let’s get honest moms, it’s hard to let go. We have parented these kids for 18 years. We have changed their diapers and wiped their tears. We have put Band-Aids on scratches and played tag with them in the backyard. Oh, and those teenage years. We silently wept tears and screamed in our pillows. We have pounded our prayer closets and prayed protection over them as they drive by themselves for the first time.

Then it happens. We let go and let God take the canvas.

I’ve learned as a mom that parenting is for a season, but being a mom is forever. Our season of parenting is using everything God put in us to parent our children. He knew our children before we did. He knew exactly what our children needed and trusted us to parent them as the Painter. Every brush stroke we trusted Him with brought out every detail in our children.

When parenting becomes hard, trust the Painter.

When letting go seems difficult, trust the Painter.

When fear and doubt of your child’s future comes in, trust the Painter.

Thankful I was there for my friend. What she didn’t know is she was there for me, too.

So, when August gets here and the tears begin to flow, she knows God sees each one she cries as her paint brush is gently let go. No more paint left, she watches the Painters hands take hold of her finished painting.

His masterpiece is displayed for all to enjoy.

Thankful we were given the opportunity to add the color.