I can’t make you care about World Civilizations, Algebra, or Astronomy.

I recognize you’re growing older and wanting your autonomy.

I can’t make you fight for what you deserve or make you rise to be a star.

I recognize that you’re confused and trying hard to find out who you are.

I pray and pray for you to choose love, life, and laughter… while you go astray.

But I also beg the Lord that you don’t forget my love along the way.

There’s a delicate balance between my responsibility and yours.

Don’t ever forget that when He closes windows, He opens doors.

I’ll practice letting go… to cease control.

So that you can fall and fail to help you become whole.

Love, Mom