It happened his sixth grade year towards the end of the school year.

He came home slamming the door behind him and my mama heart knew. I had suspected it was coming.

His first heart-break.

I tried everything I could to talk to him and reason with him. Nope, he needed to be alone.

As I began preparing dinner, my heart was crushed. When our kids hurt it’s torture for us parents.

As I chopped vegetables for dinner, my anger began to rise towards the little harlot who had caused my son’s first heart-break. I debated over calling her and giving her a piece of my mind. (she was 12).

Hell hath no fury like a mom whose kid has been hurt.

After a little while, he came out of the bedroom and went outside and plopped down crossing his arms over his chest.

I knew this moment was BIG and his way of saying, I need you mom.

I was clueless. I began pacing in my kitchen, wondering what in the heck do I say or do? Every idea seemed so cheesy and cliche.

Boys don’t do cheesy.

As I paced, I noticed the notebook and pen on my counter. I don’t know where the idea came from, but I frantically wrote:

“She must be an idiot!”

I crinkled it in a ball and beamed it at him. It hit on top of his the head and fell onto his lap.

I ran back inside and scribbled: “You are the most handsome dude on the planet” paper crinkled, aimed, bulls eye.

I gathered up a few more and zinged them at once, trying to do anything to make him laugh. He looked at me like I was crazy, shook his head and gave me a small smirk.

He came in a few minutes later, face still hanging, and went straight to his room and stayed there all night.

This was one of the grueling firsts of realizing I can’t fix my kids pain.

When our littles our little, we can fix anything. We bandage them up and send them on their merry little way. But as they grow and life is cruel, we are powerless to fix it.

A few weeks ago, one of my boys was hurting and fix it crazy mama mode kicked in. I called a friend immediately to vent.

I explained my dilemma of wishing I could take his pain. And these were her wise words:

“We can’t protect them from pain Holl, and as hard as this is, it’s the furnace baby that brings the gold.”

This is really why I called my friend. I knew she’d say something smart that my spastic, erratic brain needed to hear. And her words calmed me right down, because I knew she was right.

As much as broken hearts royally suck, this is when God refines our faith and proves Himself as our Comforter and Healer.

Zechariah 13:9- I will bring that group through the fire and make them pure. I will refine them like silver and purify them like gold.

Giving our kids and their pain over to God is one of the hardest things we will ever do as parents. And this is not a one time event. We will re-learn this again and again. (Our kids aren’t the only ones in the furnace.)

As we surrender, does this mean we stop zinging paper bombs or trying to come up with ways to soothe them when their hearts are broken?

Absolutely not.

It’s just you and I learning to trust their pain and lives are safe in Jesus’ hands.

So, fellow parents, let’s take a deep breath and hand them over.

Because one day– we will see gold baby.

{imagesource: canstockphoto.com}

Sharing is caring!

Facebook

Linkedin

Twitter

Pinterest

Buffer