Empty Nest Syndrome

"Ms. Golden and Mr. Matt are here!"

"Ms. Golden did you bring games?"

"Did you brings crafts?"

"Mr. Matt, look at this."

We walk in the door to our dear friends' home and are greeted by four excited children eager to play. We can hardly walk through the hallway as the little ones come close with hugs and the most recent news. A tooth lost, a new toy, a pretty dress, and so much more!

When our services were requested weeks prior, it was a no-brainer. Of course we would watch four kids between the ages of 3-8 for a couple days so their mom and dad could have a little getaway. For us, this was a treat. Our kids were 8, 9, and 10 when they walked through our door for the first time.

Golden gets the rundown for meals and possible activities, while Matt receives the keys to a Yukon along with loading instructions should we need to go somewhere. (We never had car seats or booster seats with our kids.)

Before we knew it, we were fill-in parents for the weekend. The energy was overwhelming.

"Let's go to the park."

Playtime over, dinner done, Bible stories read, energy spent. We crawl into bed by eight o'clock. Are we really this old?

The next morning Golden is greeted by the pitter-patter of small feet running into the room. A precious blonde-messy-haired three-year-old comes over and kisses her arm. Little voices come through the baby monitor as kids stir in the hallways. After all, it is seven o'clock. Before we know it, the room is filled with liveliness - and stuffed rabbits.

"Can we go to the park today?"

"What are we going to do this morning?"

"Don't push me."

"I'm hungry."

Matt brings out the tickle monster for a few minutes. Their energy pumps us up for the day. Then first-borns do what first-borns do.

"We need a schedule." Golden worked with the oldest to write down the order of events.

Matt rolled his eyes, "Really?"

"You know this works."

Before long, we had a half-hour by half-hour play-by-play sheet. Each person had something on the list that they wanted. The park, a craft, the park, games, the park, and a movie. We made sure to keep the regular 2-hour quiet time each day. Although, I think we cheated and let the older kids take turns outside to stretch the quiet as long as possible. Shh, don't tell their parents.

Meanwhile we took turns napping on the couch. Are we really this old?

Games played, balls hit, thrown, and kicked, slides slid on, a maze through hot lava completed, salt galaxies drying, tummies full, bodies tired, prayers spoken. Our hearts are full. Do our friends know what a blessing they have given us?

We repeat some activities the next day, adding in a worship dance service from the living room. As our departure time draws close, the kids are now calmer. We are more reflective. Memories of our children come to us and we become more solemn.

Goodbyes are said from the backyard. The next sitters take over. We walk out the front door. It is quiet. Oh, so quiet.

On our ride home, we remember our sweet moments with our children when they first came to live with us, before the rough and tumble teen years came with their raging hormones. Tickle parties, Bible stories, fort building, sledding, tractor pulls, and of course Disney Land. Is it possible that it all happened less than ten years ago? It feels like twenty.

It has taken us some time to process the loss of our children from our home as they enter adulthood and live in new places. We are happy for them and their eagerness to make a life for themselves, but we can't help but feel a little cheated. Ten years wasn't very long, especially when half of it was filled with sitting in therapy sessions and meetings.

We are blessed to have grown up conversations with our kids each month. Their strength is amazing. While some challenges remain in their lives, they are fighting hard not to let their past define them. They want better than what they experienced in the first years of their lives. But more than that, they want better for the ones who were with them during those early years. Their hearts long for biological parents who have grown up and changed too.

Being an adoptive parent is a calling. It is an assignment. It is taking responsibility for the yuck we never caused, and helping our kids walk through it. It means letting go of prejudices against bio-families and systems out of our control. It means simply being present in the deep grief and turmoil created by separating families.

Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. - John 15:13 NIV

We've spent the last ten years of our life pouring out our hearts for our kids. And now we are tired. Exhausted. Spent. At 36 and 40, we are wiped out. And yes, we feel much, much older than we are.

We're ready for a slower pace, one that allows us to stop and smell the roses. Traveling around the country should help us with that. It also gives us a new direction and purpose as we serve ministries and meet new people. We know the SOWER couples will have a lot of wisdom to share with us.

Are you at a lonely place in life? Perhaps your youngest child has just gone off to college. Or maybe your kids moved out-of-state. You could even be experiencing loss over your baby entering kindergarten. Our kids grow up, and it's hard to let them go.

Of course we will always be available if they need us. We look forward to offering support as they find spouses and have their own children. We won't mind being the young, cool, grandparents who spoil their grandkids. Perhaps we can even take them on trips in the RV!

God has a good plan for our lives in this next season. It starts with rest.