This hurts me more than this hurts you...

I recall my mom having this feeling, saying this type of thing to me as a kid. I also recall me thinking she was insane. I am now a parent. I am now officially in her shoes. I am now aware that she was not insane.

I got the call as I was pulling into the parking lot of church for all school mass. "Mom, I forgot my binder with all my homework in it, can you bring it to me." There is one beat, then another...I recall telling him at the end of last year that 7th grade was going to be different. That in 7th grade I would not be bringing him his homework or lunch or class snack up to school anymore. I realize that my kids may have more responsibilities than many others. They are part of a big family and so they may not get the special treatment and extra reminders all the time that their friends get, but this forgetful, unorganized sweet sweet child needs to learn this lesson before high school. He is the biggest culprit in our home. I only have 2 years to train into him what I have let slide for the last 12 years of his life. I have been the enabler. I have been at fault. So, yesterday when I got that call, after those two beats, I said the hardest thing I think I have ever said to one of my children, "I'm sorry honey, I can't, I am on my way in church. And I am sure you recall the discussion we had before this year began about you being responsible for your own items." He begins to plead, "But mom, please, please! All my homework is in there." I fight back tears and say, "honey, I can't. I love you. I know you are concerned with your gpa but this is just 2 assignments and it is the 2nd week of school. I bet it won't be THAT horrible." Silence on the other end of the line. I begin to worry that he is also getting upset. I begin to worry that now I have sent my son into his day with a terrible beginning. What if I have just left him in the hallway tearing up in front of other 7th and 8th graders! We hang up the phone and I head in church. I get a text, "please bring it after church" I return the text, "I'm sorry, I can't. I love you." And in my text I hope he really listens, that he hears me saying I love him and that he hears me saying that I want him to better himself in this way. Mass begins and I think about this the entire mass.

At the homily our pastor often has parishioners help him portray the message. He grabs kids from the pews and they stand in front of the congregation answering questions, looking a little nervous and engaging the crowd. I have Charlie with me and he is crawling under the pew. I vaguely hear someone with the same name as me being called. I hear it a few times more, and the next thing you know the priest is standing a few feet from me pointing at me and nodding as I am pointing to myself asking, "Me???" "Yes, Julie, you and your little son there, bring him up here with me." We make the long walk to the altar after I gather Charlie from underneath the pew. I am quite red, and trying to remember facts about the gospel....sheesh what was it about? who wrote it? Father says, "Julie, you birthed Charlie, he is 3 years old now, are you ready to send him out into the world on his own?" I say no. He asks me why not and I say because he needs me. He depends on me. Father asks me if Charlie has to worry that he may not have food or a place to sleep. Of course I answer that no he does not. Father says that is because Charlie trusts me. I am his mother and I will always take care of him, Charlie is beaming. Father goes on to tell the congregation that we need to be more like Charlie, when we depend on our most important Father, God. We can not expect to make it through life without Him.

Oh the guilt! My poor baby! My poor seventh grader counted on me, depended on me, TRUSTED me to bring him his work! I failed him.

No, not true. And I know that the truth is that I was being exactly what he needed that morning. He needed me to help him learn his own responsibility. He needed me to stop him from becoming an unorganized, messy student. He needed me to get him ready for the years to come. And just as he trusts that his mom will make sure he has a place to sleep at night, his mom will also make sure he is ready for high school even if the answers aren't always what he wants to hear. And just as he can trust these about his mother, he can also trust that his God will always provide him with answers. Not always the answers he wants to hear either, but answers that if he really listens, will help him become an amazing person.

And I am now sure that it hurts Him more than it hurts us when He has to give the tough answers.