The Labyrinth: A Reflection from Emily Rutledge

I don't believe there is any task more difficult than raising a child.  It seems to be the singular thing in life that doesn't get easier the longer you do it.  Paradoxically, and unlike any other challenge on the face of the planet, it actually seems to get harder the longer you push on.  Sure, those first few weeks are exhausting but I stand witness to the exhaustion of raising teenagers and know many parents who would gladly trade a sleepless night waiting for their baby to come home for a sleepless night with a newborn in their arms.

I have been a parent for 2,219 days.

I have been letting go of expectations, control, plans, and my ego for 2,219 days now.

The holy hard work of being present day in and day out; making lunches and explaining death, driving carpools and discussing racism, doing laundry and worrying about sexting... it's more than it seems anyone could or should survive.  There are moments of pure joy followed quickly by moments of guilt and frustration.  I am in awe that all across this planet people are doing this stuff daily and not just collapsing in utter exhaustion.

A month ago I was with my family at Shrine Mont for our parish retreat.  My daughter and I took a side trip to look at the labyrinth which was not in use because of the rain that had been pouring down the night before.  When we arrived, she didn't hesitate to walk the puddled path.  Watching her jump in to the messy maze was a harsh reminder that no matter what hard work I am constantly putting in trying to guide and support and love her, her life is not my life, and my life is not hers.  She is a part of my journey and I am a part of hers. Just as I have been formed and changed by the people and experiences I have walked through she will also meet people and do things that will, for better or worse, challenge and change her.

This fact does not make parenting easier.  It doesn't mean I don't have to teach her the importance of washing her socks right side out or help her with what to say to the kid at school who can't seem to utter a kind word, it does mean that it doesn't all fall on me.  The job of a parent is huge and constant and forever but it is not the determining factor of how our children's lives will unfold, we are merely tasked to be the ones who witness it.  We are the ones standing watch at the outside of the labyrinth as our children walk through the puddles and get lost and find treasures and eventually discover themselves. There will be things we can help with, we can rescue them from, and there will be times we will only be there to watch them fall and pray they are resilient enough to try again. 

I think of Mary, the mother of Jesus, often since becoming a mother.  I remember that she cleaned that boy's dirty knees and fed him and disciplined him and eventually witnessed his execution.  While Jesus was God's son, God wasn't the one who wiped his bottom when he was a baby or who had to convince him that eating vegetables was a necessary evil.  God wasn't the one scared out of His mind when Jesus went missing as a boy or who had to bury His child.  God was present, yes, for all those things, but God has the gift of eternity now, we only have the knowledge of the eternity that is to come.  God could rest in the redemption He knew to be real when Mary had wait and hope for it.

Anne Lamott has said that, "there are places in your heart you don't know exist until you love a child."  She also says there, "is one thing they forget to mention in most child-rearing books, that at times you will just loose your mind.  Period"

Both things are so so true.  As we stand witness to the labyrinths that are the lives of our children I hope you will join me in letting go of some of the things that are even harder to let go of than expectations, control, plans, and our egos... I invite you to join me as I attempt to let go of

guilt
self-doubt
and the crushing belief that we can do it all right.

I challenge you to pause in the impossible moments (and they happen daily, so you'll have plenty of opportunities) and feel the strength and capability you embody in doing the daily work on raising a child day in and day out.

May the God of Mary, of you, of me, and of our children, walk with us through our labyrinths the way that only She can.