Christmas began in a surge of bodily, motherly fluid. Blood and water, water and blood. Jesus didn’t come neatly — giving birth to the Savior of the world was not without pain.
I am nursing pain of my own, struck by the fact that blood and water still vividly convey the travail that Christmastime can bring to a mother’s soul. This Advent, I am sitting in a slew of questions. In many ways, I have nothing but question after question, upon a decade of waiting for answers. Such is life when you are the parent of a pigpen-dweller, the mother of sons who have run away from God. Yes. I have more than one son who cashed in on the reputation of a good father and ran away to live life on his own terms.
These would be easier words to type ten years ago. My fingers would not hover over the keyboard, straining for the meaning behind a decade of their wandering and my own bitter sorrow. All these years later, hope is no longer “a thrill” of hope. No, my hope is narcoleptic — though she waits her eyes are closed.
If writing is, as Hemingway alluded, “sitting at a typewriter and bleeding on the page,” then this digital page is a warm, red pool. I beg your pardon but, when a child isn’t walking with God, a mother lives a slow bleed. And the world can sing “Silent Night” until the cows come home but her inner world will still howl in loud lament. She never stops feeling the travail of it.
“My little children, of whom I travail in birth again until Christ be formed in you.”
Galatians 4:19 (KJV)
In situations like mine, therapists say that a certain amount of detachment is important . . . and I agree. Every believer in Christ must learn to coexist with the unresolved, and to do it with patience and even (dare I say) joy. The alternative is to be happy only when all is nearly perfect. The only way to truly live and thrive in spite of the Painfully Unresolved is to learn the art of emotionally isolating and containing it so that it doesn’t contaminate other precious parts of life.
But all this good advice begs the question: When does healthy detachment become unhealthy holiday hopelessness? For me, the answer is found as I consider this mother and this water:
“Early the next morning Abraham took some food and a skin of water and gave them to Hagar. He set them on her shoulders and then sent her off with the boy. She went on her way and wandered in the Desert of Beersheba. When the water in the skin was gone, she put the boy under one of the bushes. Then she went off and sat down about a bowshot away, for she thought, ‘I cannot watch the boy die.’ And as she sat there, she began to sob. God heard the boy crying, and the angel of God called to Hagar from heaven and said to her, ‘What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid; God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Lift the boy up and take him by the hand, for I will make him into a great nation.’ Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. So she went and filled the skin with water and gave the boy a drink.”
Genesis 21:14-19 NIV
While other mothers are planning to jingle-bell-it and bake cookies for boys who are still innocent, I sob again alongside Hagar of old. Maybe this describes you this holiday, too? I believe God is asking me and all mothers of prodigal sons or daughters the same thing He asked Hagar: “What is the matter?”
Despite the inconvenience of the unresolved and the awkwardness of having sorrow in The Age of the Hallmark Channel, we must search our hearts and we must answer honestly. My honest answer? Sometimes I am afraid my sons are going to die without ever coming back home to their heavenly Father. When it comes to pain of this magnitude, emotions can often only choose between fight, flight, or freeze. My heart usually wants to freeze. Let me not see the child die, I think and pray.
But, hold on a minute. I hear the haunting strains of a beloved Christmas song . . .
O come, Thou Dayspring, from on high,
And cheer us by Thy drawing nigh;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death’s dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel Shall come to thee, O Israel.
The long tarry of Advent is incomplete without supernaturally good news and the thrill of hope reawakened! There is still a well — the well of salvation! It is still available to every weeping son and every mother who weeps for him. May God open our eyes to it. May we gather at this well and drink deeply, you and I. May our prayers “lift the boy up and take him by the hand” (Genesis 21:18).
Sure, we may yet travail in blood and water. Our tears may run rivulets, our wounds may slow-bleed, always fresh, until these prodigals come home. But home they’ll come. The gospel tells us so.
And so, we wait. In hope.
Leave a Comment
Madeline says
Oh, Sheila, how this it home. I have a son and daughter and I pray each night they will “return to the fold” as the saying goes. And while I envy those families that worship together, I see more and more who don’t. This was so beautifully written and heartfelt. Thank you for sharing.
Sheila says
It’s one of the tenderest places in my whole heart, when I see mothers and sons worshipping together. I cry every time. And I wait. Thank you.
mp says
My heart goes out to you, Sheila, and weeps for you and with you. We have an estranged relationship with our prodigal son. It’s been a number of years since we’ve talked on the phone and even longer since we’ve seen him. All I can do is pray because it’ll take a miracle for our son to come back to the Lord…come back to us.
Sheila says
Oh Lord Jesus. We need a miracle.
Pam Matthews says
So good! My boys both have been saved but only one of them walks with the lord. He and his family have started coming to church together with me and his brother and his family. This is answered prayer. I pray for you and your sons. God bless you!
Sheila says
Pam, what a blessing. Praying right now for BOTH of yours. Thank you for taking time to respond.
Priscilla Gibbs says
What a beautiful and poignant read. Thank you for sharing from your mother’s heart.
Sheila says
Hi Priscilla,
It was an honor to write. Thank you.
Robin in New Jersey says
Sheila, thank you for sharing your story with others. Having “known” and followed you for years, I know how difficult this season has been for you. Praying they will return to what they know is true.
I also have sons not walking with the Lord. My prayer is always that they will return to him. I have had to learn to leave them in his hands and not fret. In the mean time, I take joy in the third son who plays piano in his church and points everyone he knows to Jesus. Yesterday, I went to his church to hear my granddaughter sing in her Christmas program. My son sat next to me with his family. My heart was overjoyed.
Keep the faith, dear Sheila. I know you will.
Sheila says
Love you, Robin. Thank you.
Robin in New Jersey says
Ariel Krienke says
Beautiful message. I’m so glad you are ready to receive them and reconcile when they are ready. I had to leave home to heal from spiritual, physical, and emotional abuse in my family and now my earthly father says he has no time for me and he is a Preacher. Thank you for showing true love to your children. May God bless and keep you
Sheila says
Oh Ariel. That should ~never~ be. I’m sorry. And my prayer is that when my boys come home to the heart of the Father, that I not be an “elder brother”: I cannot legislate what their return “should” look like.
Much love to your hurting heart.
Angel says
And so we wait in Hope! Stunning words ever , from a weeping mom to the warrior mom standing on the truth of the gospel. Thank you for these beautifully painful prophetic words.
-together we stand
Sheila says
Amen. Yes, and amen. May this be the year….week….DAY. We wait in hope. #wontHedoit
Cheryl says
Thankyou for sharing your heart which meets with mine also for my two adult children who have now walked away from their Savior. HOPE thank Jesus we still have Hope.. and he hears our deep groaning heart and He WILL answer ✝️
Do not be anxious, but in everything give Thanks. REJOICE He is working for us ‼️
Sheila says
Cheryl, what would we do without The Comforter? ❤️
June says
Shiela, your writing is always so courageous. And honest. I’m not a mother, so I can’t begin to understand this pain. I do have close family members who I pray for and bleed for. And hope for. Always, there is hope. Blessings, my friend.
Sheila says
Thank you my friend.
BS says
Your story really touched me… I am so sorry that you are experiencing this same pain and I am praying for you. Two of our son’s have walked away from the Lord and seemingly away from me and their dad, for the most part. It truly is heartbreaking and tough to cope with. On my knees in prayer and hope for all who share this pain.
Sheila says
I am very sorry. Other than losing children through death, there is no greater pain, in my opinion
Bethany says
This is also me, but with 2 daughters. It’s been 6.5 years. It’s been forever.
Sheila says
Bethany, your words are poetry. Sad, beautiful poetry. I get it.
Beth Williams says
Sheila,
Praying for you sweet sister. May God soften & change the hearts of yours & other boys & girls not walking with the Lord. May He bring them back to the fold.
Abba Father, Hear the pleas of all the parents awaiting their prodigal sons & daughters. Heal their weary hearts & souls. Give them a sense of peace & comfort knowing they will eventually come back to you. In Jesus Name AMEN
Blessings 🙂
Sheila says
Beth, this means the world. If these words can accomplish anything, simply prayers like this for each prodigal…these prayers will avail MUCH. Perhaps this will be the year we see a mighty harvest of sons and daughters coming home to the heart of the Father. Thank you.
kimmie says
When I suddenly realize I’m not the only one going through this……
Sheila says
Dear Kimmie – no, you are not. My DM’s are swamped. We are in this together. Have a merry Christmas in spite of the fact that all is not as God would have it to be. I pray this is your year of the prodigal’s return.
Nicole says
Your story, told so powerfully, each word striking the bullseye, was such a gift. You capture the spirit of the “in the middle” no like one I’ve read. Thanking God for you this morning. Praying for your wonderful boys, too.
Sheila says
Your words are being massaged into my heart by the Holy Spirit, Nichole! Thank you.
And ooooh yes, my boys are wonderful. They are rascals and one stays mad at me, but I adore them both and they are wonderful.
Cate Tuten says
So beautifully written. So raw and true. Sheila has a way to get to the heart of the matter and therefore affects the heart of those who read. A child, no matter how old, is always our child. And, just as when they were little, we mother’s can not truly rest until we know they are safely home. Their heart safely in the salvation of the Lord. Thank you for allowing her voice to grace your pages. She offers hope and trust in Him to all women who pray and wait for their own Prodigal to come home.
Sheila says
Cate, thank you. ❤️
walking with a limp says
Shelia your reminder that we don’t travel alone on this road is a blessing. When we feel as if there is no hope, that prayers go unanswered and with each special occasion and no contact our heart bleeds some more we need to remind ourselves God feels the same pain of rejection, loss of relationship from his children. In the story of the prodigal son no where does it say the father chased after or tried to fix the sons situation. We all have ways, in which we have to find a way to continue to live life even with a limp. God is saving our tears in a bottle and he will wipe them all away. This broken hearted Mama/Mya (Grandma) does not expect it will ever change. We have all been given free choice. They will need to return to God before their hearts will return to us. I lost a beautiful sheltie during covid to cancer she was only 8. God since has given me a new sweet sheltie to love. Every night I sit in her bed and she puts her head against my chest and sighs and gives me a hug. I feel God gives me a hug through her every night and says “my daugher you are so loved and you are worthy of love” The Lord gives me comfort, blessings and love and for that I am grateful. May all of you that are broken hearted know you are worthy of love and are loved by our heavenly Father.
Sheila says
What. a. beautiful. response.
I’m almost wondering if your name is Kim? Because I had this very conversation with a Kim and her husband, last night as we dined with friends. We spoke about walking with a limp. We spoke at length on grief.
Your description of your Sheltie brings lots of emotions up for me. We lost our teacup poodle during Covid. He had been ours for over 12 years – almost unheard of for the breed. We haven’t gotten another, but OH what a gift our animals are!
Thank you for taking time to respond.
walking with a limp says
Thank you for taking the time and care to respond. It is appreciated more than you know. You will find comfort in your gift of written word. Continue to shine a light in the darkness. Your ability to express thought and be vulnerable will bless others. The birth of blessing others often comes through our own pain. In losing Shyloh and not belonging to her for enough years I have found a way to try a navigate others through grief and pet loss. As you have seen the grief is also in losing people that are still very much alive. Maybe some day you can open your heart to another furry companion. They don’t replace but our hearts do expand to love another one. hugs Sue
Sheila says
Thank you, Sue. Sue is my mama’s name. Carolyn Sue, but she goes by Sue.