It’s often late at night, it seems, when God whispers the most important things to me.
Tonight, I found myself laying wide-eyed in the darkness again, my mind wandering. It wandered to my children, as it usually does. I began to introspect on how defensive I find myself being of them. How I feel like a mama bear sometimes, wanting to fiercely warn others to keep their distance of my babies. How I want to jump to my girls’ defense at the first sight of their discomfort. How I want to silence every negative tone and every less-than-kind word thrown their way.
It's not uncharacteristic of me, particularly. I'm loyal to a fault, and always have been. I would go to war for "my people." I swear loyalty to people that takes drastic measures to undo. I give people second and third and fourth chances. I have trouble putting my foot down and setting healthy boundaries, and tend to let people take advantage of my loyalty. The good comes with the bad, as it does with any trait, and I certainly have both.
But with motherhood came an entirely new level of commitment within me that I didn't know I had. My children are a part of me, now. They each reside in a part of my soul that no one else can fill. I would fight to the death for these girls. I would risk everything I have to protect them.
“Above all else,” I mused, “I want my girls to know that I will always be in their corner.”
I saw myself in a parted crowd, facing down some kind of enemy, behind my oldest daughter’s back, whispering, “You tell me when, and I’ll come in swinging.”
But, as He does from time to time, God gently interjected.
“You can’t always fight their battles,” He told me, “or they will never grow.”
He was right.
And of course, He’s right. How could my kids learn a thing in life if I never let them? What kind of adults would I be raising them into if they never learned how to set their own boundaries? Or if they never learned how to resolve conflict? Or if they never learned how to stand up for themselves? I would be an enabler, not a protector. I would be damaging and crippling the very lives I’m aiming to defend.
And then, God drew the connection for me.
“I can’t always fight your battles for you, either.”
The idea silenced my always-moving mind for a split second.
He doesn’t. And so often, I beg Him to. I sometimes mistakenly interpret His lack of intervention as a lack of support. I want Him to fix it, always and immediately. I want Him to silence the people that speak untrue words about me. I want Him to intervene in disagreements and put an end to any conflict that arises. I want Him to make others stop pushing my boundaries so I don't have to speak up. I want Him to shield me from discomfort and pain.
But He is a wiser parent than I. He knows that there are times when it would only cripple me to be sheltered. It would only hinder my growth to disallow me to make my own choices and fight my own battles.
It's not a lack of love or a lack of loyalty that keeps Him at bay. It is just the opposite, in fact. It's because of His love that He holds back and lets me grow.
He loves me infinitely more than I love my own children. And if I feel so fiercely loyal to these tiny little lives, and yet still must give them space to grow, how much more must God love me as He does the same?
There will be times, and there have been times already, where my girls will need me to fight for them. Times when they are too young, too small or too weak to protect themselves. And at those times, I have been there. At those times, I will always be there for them.
And in those times, when I am too young, too small or too weak, God steps in for me. That’s when He steps in front of me. That’s when He comes in swinging.
But when He does not, I know that He is lovingly, loyally and wisely letting me grow.
