Last Sunday at church, I found myself in a very interesting discussion with other parents. I'm concerned about one of my own, but I've come to the conclusion that with adult children, you must stand back and let them make their own choices. 'Their way' might not be 'your way', but as long as they are happy with their own life choices, well, really, I guess that it's really not my business. So I've been struggling with that, and I've been praying hard, and, by the grace of God, I've been relatively close mouthed about my opinions on these things. Really, though, I've been quietly sick with worry.
Last Sunday, no kids showed up for Sunday school, so I sat in with the adults. One parent said, with gritted teeth, 'Pray for my son.' His boy is an adult too. So I said, "Well, let's add mine to the list," and I commented, "It is hard when they grow up, isn't it?" and every parent in the room sort of groaned and nodded. One mother said, "All you can do is let them make their own choices, and be standing by when they need you." I looked at her. "No," I said carefully. "I don't think that is right. It gets to the point where they begin to make choices expecting to be saved from them at the end. At some point, it must stop. They must begin to look at these choices that they are making. They must deal with their own consequences. We cannot save them."
This week the fecal material has hit the rotary oscillator. It's chaos. I guess that I should have asked for prayers for myself, because I am having a hard time right now. I keep reminding myself that she must learn the lessons of this time. What will happen? I don't know. But you all tell me what I already know...I need to stay out of it. I need to let her solve her own problems.