Thoughts on the empty nest

One spring some robins built their nest on the porch just outside our kitchen window. Our family watched as the parents protected the eggs and tenderly cared for the baby birds. As the little birds grew, the nest became very overcrowded. Then one day we watched as each of the baby birds took their flight out of the nest. From then on, the nest was completely empty. When the young birds moved out, the parent birds moved on with their lives, too. None of the birds returned to the same nest. Perhaps we can learn something from their example.

When my children were toddlers, we would visit with other preschool moms and their kids at a weekly playgroup. Occasionally, the cheery, child-focused conversations of the moms would take a more serious turn when one mom or another, speaking in a mournful tone of voice, would say: “The children are growing up so fast! Before we know it, they’ll be off on their own.” In quiet assent, the other moms would sympathetically frown and knowingly nod their heads, agreeing with the observation. 

At first, I went right along with the crowd. It did seem sad to think that someday in the future the perpetual flurry of activity, the sweet sound of the children’s voices, and the crayons strewn all over the house, would be gone. But after I heard this same conversation repeated a few times, I started to think about it more deeply. 

The more I have learned about God, the more I have begun to question anything that would suggest that sadness is inevitable. God is good, all good. God is the Principle that is Life. How could a good part of Life have a bad side effect?

The erroneous idea that the joy of raising children could leave one feeling empty or left behind, grows out of the false concept that existence is material. According to this erroneous belief, life is like an arch. It begins as dust, at ground level, rises to its pinnacle, and then slowly and sadly descends, gradually returning to dust. This false sense of life corresponds with the material account of creation in the second chapter of Genesis in the Bible.

How could a good part of Life have a bad side effect?

The good news is that the material perception of being has nothing to do with the reality of God’s creation. God is Spirit, not matter. And so, God’s creation is spiritual. It is the ceaseless unfolding of unlimited thoughts. The account of creation in the book of Genesis describes God as He communicated the nature of creation as Spirit would, through thoughts, not through dust. “And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light” (Genesis 1:2, 3 ). I like this part, “And God said, Let … ” To me, it illustrates how God communicates His ideas, and His thoughts become evident.

In Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, Mary Baker Eddy explains the spiritual sense of existence when she says, “God expresses in man the infinite idea forever developing itself, broadening and rising higher and higher from a boundless basis” (p. 258 ). And in her Miscellaneous Writings 1883–1896, she writes: “Infinite progression is concrete being, which finite mortals see and comprehend only as abstract glory. As mortal mind, or the material sense of life, is put off, the spiritual sense and Science of being is brought to light” (p. 82 ).

I, too, had been progressing right along with the children.

Thinking about these ideas, I remembered the wonder of my own life when I moved out of the family home. It was a great adventure. I enjoyed experiencing the world in my own individual way. I gained confidence in my ability to make decisions and learned to manage my finances. Certainly, this is a beneficial thing for a young person to do. And what blesses the child must also bless the parents.

As I continued to think about the spiritual nature of life, I noticed something else. Though my children were still very young at the time, I could see that their lives up to that point had already been a gradual process of positive changes. A number of the things associated with early childhood had already disappeared—diapers, sleepless nights, and frequent crying—and I didn’t miss those things at all.

Awakened from the dream of life as a material experience, I realized that I, too, had been progressing right along with the children, and that I would continue to enjoy positive progress in my life—forever! This realization helped me overcome a tendency to dwell on past mistakes. Instead of dwelling on them, now I could learn from them and move forward free of regrets. 

As the children grew, I continued to contradict mentally any suggestion that the future would hold a mournful time of parting. Goodness is the law of God—the goodness Jesus lived and taught—and as we all experience the natural progression of life, we can confidently expect that goodness will continue to appear in fresh and progressive ways. I can happily say that when each of the children, at the right time for them, moved hundreds of miles from home, new and interesting opportunities opened up for me. Although my husband and I are empty nesters now, our lives are filled with the continuity of spiritual progress, as are the lives of our children. Things will change, as they should, but more goodness will continue to appear, forever.

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Spiritual Lens
Reflection on reflections
September 9, 2013
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