The Hidden Gift in Hard Times

When I think of what it means to be a parent, I am always drawn to this quote by writer Elizabeth Stone: “Making the decision to have a child—it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” Parents move mountains to protect and nurture their children, providing them with every available advantage and shielding them from harm whenever possible.

I’ve been a mother for over twelve years, and it’s been the most surprising role of my life. I can still remember my B.C. (before children) days when I silently judged the mothers wrangling screaming toddlers in Target, vowing that my children would never behave in such a manner. What a perfect example of pride coming before a fall. My own experiences as a mother of young children taught me how little I knew. After managing many in-store meltdowns, I now give mothers of young children a smile, a word of encouragement, and an offer of help when I see them struggling.

The early days of motherhood are physically exhausting. You are running on little sleep and trying to reason with small humans with big emotions. But as physically exhausting as young motherhood is, I am learning how mentally and emotionally taxing being a mother of older children can be as well. The days of potty-training and tantrums are behind me. Now, the stakes seem much higher as we are navigating cell phones, friendships, and hormones with dating and driving on the horizon.

I am currently navigating my most formidable parenting task to date. Our family is moving from the only home our kids have known to a new state hundreds of miles away. This move brings several benefits for us, including new career opportunities and being closer to extended family.  It also brings a lot of heartache as we move away from the incredible community we have built over the past eleven years.

Our children took the news of the move very hard. I’ve never felt sadder than I did watching their faces register that information. In the weeks since we told them about the move, many of our evenings have ended with consoling one of the three kids as they process their feelings.

As parents, we will disappoint and even hurt our children at some point. It feels terrible to watch our children in pain, especially when your choices cause that pain. Rifts are a natural part of human relationships. It’s what we do when those rifts occur that allows us to love our loved ones well.

Instead of trying to find all the silver linings in our situation, we are letting our kids openly express how they feel, from sorrow to anger. It’s hard to hear them process their negative emotions, especially knowing we chose the source of their hurt. But as hard as it is to see our kids in pain, it’s also a tremendous honor to be able to walk through this season with them.

Challenges are often crucibles for our faith. We learn more about ourselves and our relationship with God during adversity. While we don’t always choose these challenging circumstances, they have many things to teach our children and us.

Modeling Faith in Hard Times

The messy parts of this move have provided my husband and me with opportunities to model mature faith to our children. My kids have seen me praying for their hearts during this process. They’ve witnessed my tears as I grapple with leaving my friends, too. They have seen my husband and I prayerfully approach all the decisions that come with a move. I hope these images of our faithfulness stay with them and give them a framework for making their own challenging decisions one day.

Opportunities for Discipleship

Moving has been an excellent vehicle for discipling our children. We have taught them to deepen their faith by having honest conversations with God. When they ask why God would allow a move that takes them away from their friends, we tell them we don’t always understand why God permits hardships in our lives, but we can still trust that he is good. We read verses like Psalm 34:18, which tells us, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (NIV) We remind them that God is always with them and listening to their prayers.

Fostering Growing Faith

I have never wanted to force my faith onto my children, desiring instead that they navigate faith on their terms. When they have expressed doubts in God or asked hard questions during this process, it’s allowed me to hold space for these growing pains with gentleness and patience. I am not afraid of my children experiencing low points in their faith because I believe in a God who never leaves us behind. He will be there, waiting to reconnect when they are ready, just as he has been for me in the valleys of my faith journey.

Our natural inclination is to protect our children from every harm. While this would lead to a comfortable life for our kids, comfort is not the goal. I want to raise whole-hearted people who approach the world with curiosity and courage. While this move is full of discomfort, it gives us all instances to grow in empathy, patience, humility, and bravery. The lessons are stretching us, but in a way that doesn’t break us but expands our hearts. For that, I am grateful.

Lindsay Hufford is a small-scale farmer, home educator, chicken chaser, kitchen dancer, and mediocre knitter. Her favorite things include spending time with her family, exploring the natural world, reading, eating spicy food, and singing loudly in the car (to the embarrassment of her children). Lindsay believes sharing our stories will change the world. She writes about farming, homeschooling, faith, mental health, sobriety, and living an unconventional life. You can follow her adventures at Kinship Flower Farm.

Photograph © Aswin, used with permission