Sunday, March 17, 2013

The Loan of Children

My wife and I just spent time with our older son and his wife. Soon to be a father for the fourth time himself, we had a short but blessedly full visit with him and his family that left me reflective on life and parenting and eternity.

Both of my sons provoke this response in me. They are both men, husbands, and fathers who have  personalities and preferences, gifts and skills, that did not come from me or my wife. How is that possible?

How is it that our children end up being people who exceed us and delight us and bewilder us? I guess it’s because they are only ours on loan in the first place.

When they’re born, their whole world is you. You know every moment. You watch them in their sleep, you look in on them when they’re playing, you see them when they never see you. Like a circle within a circle, their world is entirely contained in yours. When they were small, I came into their rooms every night and prayed over them while they were sleeping. They never knew.

But then the circles separate a little. They begin to have a life distinct from yours: a few hours at preschool, playing at the neighbor kid’s house, birthday parties you don’t attend. The circles are moving apart. Grade school, summer camp, soccer practices, high school, class trips. Then come college, jobs, friends, mentors, romantic connections. All the while you try your best. You want to be there for them, to teach and model love and truth, but at some point the two circles are almost entirely distinct. Their lives include people and influences and experiences and learning and adventures and headaches that are not part of your world at all.

One day you realize your circles overlap only a very little, on rare vacations or business trips that bring them your way. And happily their circle begins to include little circles of their own. On loan.

This is God’s doing. It is His plan. He loans us our children. Sometimes He takes them back too early for us, and our hearts break. But usually their circles get bigger, fuller, and more separate, and that’s what’s supposed to happen.

For my part, I am more than thankful for the loan of my sons. The delight and privilege of being their dad continues, but they have changed, and so have I.

What I’m most grateful for is that both of my boys belong to Jesus, and have been His since before the foundation of the world. Jesus knows them, provides for them, guides and protects them, in ways I can no longer. They are His eternally. Not on loan.