Let Me Do My Work / Lloyd

When Judy and I married, we moved from San Luis Obispo, CA to Philadelphia, PA and for 30 years lived far away from home. We were both the eldest children in our families, and thus had little opportunity to witness life’s pain in the personal lives of our parents or adult brothers and sisters. We had our own struggles, of course; but that was just getting through one thing or another.

Then we had children of our own, who in turn had children. At this point we began to tremble as we witnessed the pain of parenthood. And mostly it wasn’t the same as our own coming of age -- which truly means arriving at whatever age we are currently (71 years at this writing), rather events and circumstances were uniquely tailored to our children.

Perhaps we felt such overpowering empathy because we recognized the depth of their pain from our own experiences. At any rate our most recent tutoring in parenthood came as we got off the phone after speaking with one of our children about his current long-term circumstance.

We found our physical and emotional energies completely drained. It was tempting to call in sick from work so we could process all that was happening, but it wasn’t an option -- not this time. Instead I lay down for a bit before going to work.

My heart was drawn out in prayer for my son and his family when I had this clear impression, “Let me do my work.” And I found myself reviewing my own life and received a greater comprehension and more precise perspective of past significant and often overwhelming events. And then this windup, “If I have thus dealt with you and Judy, why would I withhold from your children. Let me do my work, watch and learn.”

Afterwards I sat down with Judy to go over this experience. And she remarked, “Yes, that’s very interesting, but I still hurt terribly from what I see them going through. It doesn’t go away.”

Clearly as parents we aren’t meant to stand by as idle witnesses to our children’s suffering and pain, rather we mourn with them when they mourn and comfort them as best we can.

But throughout, we also stand as witnesses of God to them and rehearse his tender mercies to us -- which helped us work through our own rough patches. Perhaps most important, we can assure our children that in those difficult times we have found meaning essential to our current happiness.

Judy and I have come to understand that in the eternal perspective, our lives and their moments are not merely a ceaseless crap shoot, but are meaningful and thought through with our welfare and long term happiness in mind.

Rick Warren said it this way: “This means God is more interested in your character than your comfort, and he's more concerned about your holiness than your happiness.”

And Jonathan G. Sandberg said to BYU students, “Again, our Heavenly Father and Savior are more interested in our growth and progression than in our comfort and convenience.”

As hard as it is for us as parents now, how terrible would it be if we had the power to intervene and understood that would cause greater damage to our children and we must withhold.

Our Heavenly Father understands that aspect of parenthood all too well. Upon hearing his only begotten son cry out "My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?" -- there was heard “a loud voice; and the heavens were veiled; and all the creations of God mourned; and the earth groaned; and the rocks were rent.” Still, the Father did not intervene. And we are so grateful.