Last night Jon and I celebrated the anniversary of our first official date twenty-five years ago. He still maintains that the following week was when he determined to marry me. He
knew we were going to marry. I, on the other hand, have always arrived at my conclusions more hesitantly. Jon was 17, I was 16.
This morning I opted to drive my boys to their high school in our beat up pickup truck because my car was out of gas. I dislike filling up at the dodgy, overcrowded gas station nearby, the one with the cheaper gas that still costs well over $4/gallon. I hate the thought of over $100 for a tank of gas. Besides, I had forgotten I needed to make time for that task before heading out and we didn't have time to spare before class. Typical. So there I was driving my boys in our dirty truck that rattles and creaks. Silence broke as we rounded the downward bend to the train tracks. Conversation would shift from their upcoming homecoming dance, to homelessness, to a new business idea, and back to homecoming again. There were long moments of silence, too. After all, I was driving boys and not girls. Oh, and I am not an extroverted conversationalist.
Earlier we had read though a section of Psalms; I had picked the spot where my counter top study Bible is marked by a card stock bookmark gifted to me by Michael a dozen or more years ago. It's one of the few remaining Sunday school crafts; the thick piece of red yarn still dangles from my pages. As I have for years, I opened that big book and stood at the counter while my kids ate their breakfast. Some choose not to eat first thing in the morning, but soft boiled eggs and sourdough toast was served to those who do. Mornings gathered together over physical and spiritual nourishment are no longer the daily practice like it once was. Seasons change and I am no longer in charge of specific bed and wake times, meal times, and schedules. That season has past. Still, as often as I can, I gather them together knowing that the Word of God will never return void. There is an urgency to share it because these days are fleeting.
We read from Psalms, but only from the sections that were already underlined. A marked up Bible is so helpful when I come to it unprepared to deliver its treasures. Today I told them how I don't always long for God the way the psalmist did, or that I don't comprehend God's splendor in a way that completely enraptures me the way it should. But I desperately want to know and experience it, so I told them I ask of it from God. I talked about trusting in God's goodness, kindness, and love for us despite our feelings and impressions. And just as the psalmist asked God to make his face to shine upon him, I prayed the same. I asked that God would not only reveal his goodness to us, but that he would give us eyes to see it.
The sunlight was beautiful on our drive to school. I noticed how it complimented the color of tall grasses off the side of the road, and how the Pampas grass shimmered and sparkled as the breeze gently traveled through. Then there, with two of my teenage sons riding in silence with me in a beat up truck, I sensed an answer to my prayer. Though the goodness and splendor of God is all around all of the time, I saw and became conscious of a small glimpse of it. His goodness and love kissed my senses as I became aware of his presence and promises of help.
As the subject of homecoming resurfaced, I drove on right passed my turn. How could I miss it? We laughed about it. Even though I drive this route two, three, sometimes four times a day, I still missed it. At the light, the one I shouldn't have been waiting at, I understood God's faithfulness still more. A smile formed on my face, one that probably only God noticed. These boys which I was about to drop off into the world would certainly be protected, I was sure of it. They are hedged by God's love. I have prayed diligently for them to a faithful, loving God who not only promises to hear, but who is merciful and desires their good. He desires their heart.
"Protection" and "good" are both words I would choose to define differently than God does sometimes, but He must be trusted. I let the thought wash over me as God's face, I believe, was shining on us in that moment. Truly, I don't even know what that fully means, but I was both aware of his present goodness and the earlier prayer for such favor.
God's story for my kids may take painful twists and turns. Should I actually desire anything different? Would any one of us turn to God if we believed ourselves to be sufficient and capable of controlling an easy life? I must trust God that his story for them is also his calling, his revelation to their hearts. I don't pray that God would protect them from pain, or hardship, or trial of any sort. I don't dare.
Whatever it takes, God, make them your own.
Some time later, I pulled back into our lane. I sat there a moment and remembered our dinner date last night, and how our lives could never be imagined by our teenage minds all those years ago. We had walked around Ottawa's Parliament Hill on that crisp October night; my palms were probably sweaty despite the cool temps and my heart probably beat hard as I tried to appear less reserved than I knew I was. Jon Rourke was interested in me, and I thought that to be so strange. He could have dated anyone, and everyone knew it. We entered a relationship quickly and seriously - some might say dangerously so given our ages - but it was the story written for us before time began. God's face smiled that night, though I'm sure I hardly thought of him. But God, he was always there. And he noted our smiles on that day, too, happening just as he expected.
As Jon and I took off last night with a gift card in hand and a reservation we were running later for, I had one teenage son riding the train to an evening class at a community college, while another son was putting in a couple hours of yard work at our neighbor's house. They are growing up, morphing into men far more rapidly than they know. They will look back one day and see God's handiwork in their lives, their story lovingly written for his glory. He is faithful and good, I am sure of it.
>:<
Grand Teton and Yellowstone National Parks, July 2019
Our picnic lunch spot, some place off the trafficked road.
He still prefers to eat while moving, and this was the perfect place to free range.
Occasionally, I still get a flower from my boys.
In a world of roses, I still prefer all the wildflowers.
We stopped at most of the main attractions, but our favorite spots by far were unmarked on the map and unplanned on the agenda.
Missing this girl today, again.
We missed Michael a ton while the rest of us travelled Wyoming, but he had an amazing opportunity to take a 6-day sailing trip with his racing crew. We both came back with new experiences lived and pictures to share. One of my new experiences was to travel the Rockies while one of my kids sailed the Pacific, both of us frequently out of range. I'd check my phone app to find his location, and there would be nothing. My heart was content to simply trust.
~Katherine
