The Mother of the Bride
Tears came to my eyes as the lines of Pacabel's Canon
climbed to a thundering climax and the audience rose in
eager anticipation of their first glimpse of the bride. I
could already imagine the shimmering white dress, the dark
curls, the sweet smile that lit up her delicate features and
added a familiar spark to the bright eyes I knew so well. I
sighed as my mind review the over the past five years. I
didn't deserve the place of honor she had granted me today .
. .
I had always dreamed of having a daughter. Though I loved my
boys dearly, my heart had never stopped yearning for a girl
to raise. Then my husband's 19-year old niece came to live
with us, and I knew God had granted me the desire of my
heart.
She needed me at first. She didn't speak the language. She
needed help with immigration. She couldn't get a job. Then
she became deathly ill and we nearly lost her. Throughout it
all, I was right there to lavish her with the best of my
mothering skills.
But things gradually started changing. She recovered from
her illness and her English improved. She started school,
made some friends-even got a job-all without me! I doubled,
even tripled my "mothering", desperately trying to hang on,
desperately trying to make her see that she still needed me!
But it didn't work and our relationship soured.
When she told me she was moving out, I was hurt and I
couldn't hide it. How could she do this to me? How could she
so blatantly reject all that I had tried to pour into her? I
began nursing my injured pride by telling myself that she
just didn't want me. I refused to see her new apartment. I
even made sure I wasn't home the day she left. And things
between us quickly went from bad to worse.
Her first fateful announcement came just a few weeks later:
"I've met someone!" This was followed closely by her second:
"We're getting married!" And the third: "We bought a house.
We're moving in together."
I didn't like or trust her boyfriend. The whole relationship
was a mistake, and I couldn't understand why she couldn't
see it! I felt it was my motherly duty to tell her how wrong
she was, but when I did, our relationship became frosty.
Then one day as I was crying out to the Lord, a still, small
voice whispered in my ear: "Let go, Lyn! Let go, and let
God!"
It was hard, but I knew He was right. I had to let her go.
Things didn't improve immediately, but when God had brought
me to the place where I could love her unconditionally and
let her make her own decisions whether I agreed with them or
not, the ice started to melt. Other changes began happening
as well. She found a church that she was comfortable
attending. She sought a relationship with God. She broke up
with her fiancé. She made some Christian friends. Overall,
her choices began to reflect a mature, God-based life.
Then she once again had an announcement to make: "I've met
someone!"
Her new boyfriend was different from the first. He was a
wonderful man who loved her and treated her the way she
deserved to be treated. And now this same man stood at the
front of the church, his face aglow in eager expectation.
When she appeared the audience gasped. She was a picture of
perfection, chiseled out by God's own hand. Suddenly it all
made sense to me. She had never needed me to mother her.
What she had needed was an aunt who cared enough to pray. It
was only by letting go and letting God that this elegant
creature had been given her chance to bloom, and it was only
by letting go that I now stood up as the Mother of the
Bride.
Lyn Chaffart