BEND WITHOUT BREAKING: The Painful 'YES' of Parenting

I am writing this on Mother's Day (in the Philippines).

I first heard and carried the title of Mum 18 years ago.

My eldest is now 25. We met when he was 7 years old. A toothless grin set in a cheeky, expressive and talkative character, asking endless questions!

Home is where the family is!

He was brought up by a loving Lola (Grandma) and a tribe of devoted Titas (Aunties) but I was the first one he ever called 'Mom' (spelt with an 'O' until he switched to British spellings). I didn't speak Tagalog and his vocabulary was limited to cartoon phrases and broken pop song lyrics. Thrown together in a blender of change and new beginnings we began a journey learning to love and trust, finding our own culture and redefining the meaning and experience of family.

Fast forward and I am now on a balcony watching a blended tribe of kids playing their version of baseball/rounders which involves kicking a slipper (flipflop) as a ball. One just got stuck in a tree and they are taking turns to throw other slippers to knock it down.

This redefined and enlarged family has been one of the greatest heart unravelling rides. What started as loving 1 son, abandoned and brokenhearted, has evolved into a widening heart capacity to try and love more kids.

I want to say it is all worth it; that I have no regrets, but it has honestly been the most painful choice and costly endeavour I have said yes to. Measured not by finance, faraway relocation, or even time but in the unrelenting heart expansion process.

It has to change to be enlarged. It has to stretch and sometimes rip and be restitched to embrace the realities of trauma and a world that has deeply wounded children.

How do you rebuild shattered trust and reteach survivors to dare to be vulnerable to love or be loved? The probability risk for deeper heartache is so high that protective walls are thick inpenetratable fortresses. Experiences have proven that love is conditional. It is easier to reject, hide, or escape than it is to dare to hope let alone believe.

The roots of trees go down deep to anchor and hold them secure. This is a picture of family.

Yesterday I lay flat on the grass and looked up at towering trees above. The wind blew among the branches and I watched the main trunks sway back and forth, bending significantly from halfway up their height.

The lower portion was steadfast and solid; rooted deep and unmoved by the disturbance.

This is Family!

My Mum* (also an adoptive mother and my life mentor) defined family for me as intentionally giving children roots and wings; secure and held they have a safe, secure and accepting place to grow and eventually return to once their wings are developed and strengthened to stretch wide and soar.

Like these trees, it takes a long time to reach down to establish the root system to support upward life and regrowth. Even though as parents, we are frequently swayed by the winds of tragic stories, I keep praying that our bending shows love, not weakness. The ability to be compassionate, understanding and moved but not fractured in the embracing.

HE is the vine, and we are the branches!

It is not our job to fix the wounds, the shattered systems or try to recompense what was stolen.

There is only one redeemer!

I can be a branch that extends its arms wide. Bending with what we are tasked to bear, pruned continually by the process but securely fixed and rooted in the original family designer who removes what is necessary with the expectation of fruit.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." John 15:5

I will keep trusting the process of parenting and the purpose of each season. I will keep loving and trying to bear fruit whatever the season of life we are in!

* This post is dedicated to my beloved Mum Joanna, with love.