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
The Illustrator: This daily newsletter is dedicated to encouraging
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