THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1997, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Saturday, February 1, 1997 TAG: 9701310059
SECTION: DAILY BREAK PAGE: E5 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Issues of Faith
SOURCE: Betsy Wright
LENGTH: 90 lines
READING THE newspaper has been tough on parents lately. Two sons, one famous (Ennis Son-of-Bill Cosby) and one familiar (Tim Wheaton, local boy) have died senseless, violent deaths.
Parents, reading their stories, have uttered a collective sigh, and each thought: ``There but for the grace of God goes my kid.''
How on Earth does a parent survive the loss of a child? I've often wondered this, all the while praying that God won't show me how it's done. Generally I have this horrific fear under control. When I read, however, about the deaths of two sons - sons very much like my own - it becomes nearly impossible to choke back that anxiety.
It is times like this that I think it would be much easier not to have children at all.
And then I look at the sweet baby boy who sleeps on my bed. At the beautiful teen-age daughter who bounces out the door. At the handsome young man who reads at the dinner table. At the rosy-cheeked toddler who plays with her doll.
And then I realize once again for the zillionth time that love means risk, that risk often means loss, and that love is always worth the fear that risk brings and the pain that loss bears.
It seems I've always known this piece of wisdom, and yet for me it was writer/psychiatrist M. Scott Peck who best articulated it in his long-time best seller ``The Road Less Traveled.''
``Courage,'' writes Peck, ``is not the absence of fear; it is the making of action in spite of fear, the moving out against the resistance engendered by fear into the unknown and into the future. On some level, spiritual growth and, therefore, love, always requires courage and involves risk. . . . Love anything that lives - a person, a pet, a plant - and it will die. . . . A full life will be full of pain. But the only alternative is not to live fully or not to live at all.''
So, as parents, we know we must love fully, risking all our hearts can bear, knowing it can all be taken from us in seconds.
And what if, mercifully, we are parents whose children survive us. Well, we still must face loss. Any good parent knows that in order for our kids to become adults, we must let go of them, and often that letting go is as painful for the parent as it is for the child.
Recently, a good friend's son transferred to a new college. Away for barely two weeks, he called home to say his car had been towed. Inside was his wallet and ATM card. His housemates were at work, so he didn't have a ride to the police station. To top it off, he had to be at his new job in just hours.
``The whole time he was talking,'' said my friend, ``I was thinking to myself, `I'm four hours away. What can I do about it?' ''
It's not that she doesn't love her son - she does - it's just that the kid is 21 years old and she's wondering when the calls will change.
When, wonders my friend, will the calls change from, `Mom, help me solve this one' to `Mom, I had a problem. Let me tell you how I solved it'?
It's not that she doesn't want to help her son. It's just that she wants to see him mature into an adult, and she knows deep down that one day when he calls for help, she will have to let go. She'll have to say to her son, ``I've taught you to think and I've given you the resources to solve this one, now handle it yourself, kid.'' And then - hurting like the dickens - she'll hang up the phone, knowing the best she can do is be with that child in spirit until the next call comes.
God, I think, works this way too. Sometimes we pray and those prayers are answered immediately, as if God has readily seen our dire need. In these times, its easy to love God and life but difficult to grow and mature.
And so, God, seeing this, decides we need a boost to get to that higher spiritual place.
That's when, I believe, God allows obstacles to fill our lives. We pray and seem to get no response. God, we think, has left us.
In reality, though, God is there. It's just that he's decided to let go a little so that we can grow.
It's almost as if he is saying to us, ``I've taught you to think and I've given you the resources to solve this one, now handle it yourself, kid.''
Our faith assures us that God may have hung up the phone, but he's still with us in spirit, waiting for our next call . . .
. . . Being the good parent that God is. MEMO: Every other week, Betsy Mathews Wright publishes responses to her
opinion column. Send responses to Issues of Faith, The Virginian-Pilot,
921 N. Battlefield Blvd., Chesapeake, VA 23320; call 446-2273; FAX (804)
436-2798; or send computer message via bmw(AT)infi.net. Deadline is
Tuesday prior to publication. Must include name, city and phone number. ILLUSTRATION: Graphic
DISCUSSION GROUP
The next Faith Discussion Group will meet Tuesday, Feb. 25, from
7 to 9 p.m. at Ohef Sholom Temple, 530 Raleigh Ave., Norfolk. For
directions, call 625-4295.
The topic will be ``Our image of God: What it is and how it is
formed.''