Embracing A New Season: Mommas Loving Older Children

Waiting in a line of cars to exit the church parking lot, my eyes land on three of my older children. Each of them pulling out ahead of me in separate vehicles. All of them doing their own thing, going their own way.

My two oldest boys were driving vehicles purchased with their own money, each with a sweet young lady at his side. My youngest daughter sat behind the wheel of another vehicle, her daddy riding shotgun – a seat he’ll occupy until she’s old enough to drive alone. My oldest daughter and her family were worshipping at a nearby church. Soon, they would be loading up and heading to their home in another town.  

I glanced in the backseat at my eight-year-old son. It’s just you and me, buddy. The words rolled off my tongue with ease, but a question lingered beneath the surface. I pondered my current reality. How had my babies grown up so quickly? 

This question is one I have been asking myself a lot lately. It seems like only yesterday I was knee-deep in the trenches of homeschooling my three oldest children. It doesn’t seem all that long ago when our fourth child arrived, entering the school scene – and in due time, stepping into high school herself. And then, along came the youngest of my five – the only one still young enough to be considered little. 

This passage of time has raced by at a much greater speed than my younger self could have ever imagined. Indeed, where has the time gone? 

Because there is an eighteen-year gap between my oldest and youngest children, I’ve been afforded a unique opportunity. Thanks to having already raised older children, I’ve developed an acute awareness of the rapid momentum in which childhood gives way to young adulthood. And, thanks to having children still at home, I’ve had the pleasure of raising the youngest two with a better understanding of this concept. Because of this insight, I’m certain my youngest children will also be grown before I enjoy many more blinks. 

Despite close relationships with our adult children, life is simply different when your kids are no longer kids. Our daughter and grandbabies visit often. Our big boys will stop to talk and regularly offer their momma a hug (although I’ve had to chase them down a time or two).

I remember thinking as a young mom how relieved I would feel when my littles were bigger. I looked forward to a time when I would worry less about terrible things happening to them. I had no idea a momma’s heart would remain as tender toward her adult child as when she first held that child in her waiting arms. 

My younger self also failed to understand the enormity of danger lying in wait for older children.  Nor could I fathom my inability to protect them as I had done when they were young. 

I can no longer hold their hands and pull them out of harm’s way. I can no longer keep them from doing something I fear may not end well. I can no longer make decisions for them, nor can I control the decisions they make for themselves. I no longer know where they are at all times, or even if they’ve made it home safely. 

But there is something I can do. No matter where life’s circumstances take them. No matter how close or far they travel. Whether sick or well. Whether making good or not-so-good decisions. When trudging through the valley or enjoying views from the mountaintop. 

Wherever these precious children of mine may land, this momma can – and will – be praying for them. And trusting that God is always with them. And remembering that His love for them is even greater than my own.  

As I practice praying and trusting and remembering these things, I will grab hold of other opportunities as they arise. Opportunities to be present and available when they need me.  To offer support and encouragement. To carefully and tactfully lend advice when necessary. 

Opportunities to welcome their friends into our home, hoping they’ll come back again and again. To treat them to their favorite meals and bless them with a few dollars here and there. To check on them in such a way that they feel loved, but not smothered. To never withhold from them the mantra they’ve heard all their lives – I love you. 

And yes, to run after them from time to time, chasing down that hug they forgot to give. 

This is how we make it as the momma of grown kids. 

This is how we embrace a new season of motherhood with hope and confidence.

By extending love and grace to our adult kids. By covering each one in prayer. By making the most of whatever time we’re given with them. By making sure they know they matter just as much now – as adults – as they did then – when they were merely children. 

And though we must be careful to give them space and treat them as adults, it’s reassuring for them to know someone remains in their corner. Always loving them. Continually praying for them. Standing shoulder to shoulder with them in the deepest trenches. Shouting for joy alongside them from every mountaintop. 

Quiet, subtle assurance that deep down in the tender places of their momma’s heart, they are deeply loved and forever her babies.