Moments for Mom

by Elisabeth K. Corcoran, 2009 - November, 2009 - Used by permission

You can learn more about Elisabeth at www.elisabethcorcoran.com or at http://elisabethcorcoran.blogspot.com/.

I struggled with friendships growing up.  Like, really, really struggled.  I moved a lot, which I’m sure had something to do with it, but still…I couldn’t find good friends, couldn’t keep good friends.  It was a constant source of stress throughout my entire childhood.

So, to hear my son say recently, “You know the boy who really makes me laugh at lunch?”  “Yep,” I said, smiling.  “He told me I can’t sit with him and his friends anymore today.”

Nothing, and I am pretty sure I literally mean nothing, makes my heart break more than that.  Than hearing one of my children say that they are having friend struggles.  That some kid said something hurtful to them.  (Heart hurting again just thinking about it.)  I actually started to cry.  I don’t know if that helped him at all to know that I really felt for him or if it just made him more sad.  

What I wanted to do was go to his school, find that “funny” boy in the cafeteria, and, I don’t know, maybe knock his head against a lunch box or something.  Something Christ-like like that.  But I didn’t do that…don’t go emailing me.

What I did was this.  I prayed for Jack right there, with tears streaming down my face, asking Jesus to not only heal his hurting heart, but to bring him a good friend and to become his best friend.  I thanked Jack for sharing that with me.  And then I got the idea of going to his school (don’t worry) and taking him out to lunch.

The look on his face when he “reported” to the office only to find his mom there asking for a lunch date was worth the whole thing.  And then I made him listen to a Sara Groves song (Song for My Sons ... see lyrics here:

http://www.saragroves.com/store/tellmewhatyouknow/lyrics/songformysons/) and I told him that I will always want to sit by him, always want to have lunch with him or dinner with him, or whatever with him, and that I will always, always love him just for who he is.  He told me after hot dogs and chips and a huge cookie that “this was nice”, and he thanked me.

Now, I have no idea if he’ll remember this.  But I do know as I drove home that I knew that that one hour of my life would have eternal ramifications…some hours feel like I just wasted them and will never get them back…but that one hour meant something.

And I know that this can’t be the end of it.  I need to work with him on this.  We need to talk about how it feels to be left out.  To talk about how to treat this mean boy (still with respect).  To talk about what it means to choose a good friend, to be a good friend.  To talk about how to reach out to others who might be lonely.  To talk about what it means to trust in Jesus enough that He can truly be your closest friend, even at age 11.  There’s more to talk about, let’s just say.  But this was all a start.

(And to that boy out there who told my son not to sit with him…you know what, I just said a prayer for you…because God doesn’t like his children being picked on or excluded, and there just might be some justice coming your way that might make a lunch box to the noggin look like child’s play.  I don’t know that for sure, but I’m just sayin’…)

Moms, let’s patch up the boo-boos, and kiss away the hurts, but let’s not just leave it at that. Go deeper with your kids…they may resist and act like they don’t want to talk about it anymore, but deep down, they want to be pursued.