What a weekend. I literally just dropped Ethan back off to his mother. To describe the conflict inside is impossible. He is my son, and I love him with the kind of love only another parent can possibly understand. There is absolutely nothing I would not do for him. He has been my world for three and a half years. In thirteen hours I will drive off on an adventure that lies in the west. Reality is setting in so much that I am actually afraid of the drive to come, when all reality crashes in.
As I thought about all of this, the verses above came to mind, and they have been playing over again and again in my mind. My cry is a prayer, one of His will being accomplished, not mine. Doubts are overwhelming me right now, but I am firm in His promises.
I want to share a precious moment. There is a part of me that does not want to share, because to think about it makes me choke, but to withhold it would deny God of praise for my amazing son. Ethan went into the service with me this morning. We were singing one of my favorite songs, and I just became very overwhelmed with God’s love for me. The song was talking about us dedicating our lives to Him. Ethan was standing on the back of the chair in front of me, leaning on me for support. Both my hands were lifted, and I was praying the lyrics of the song more than I was singing them. As I was doing this, I felt both of Ethan’s little hands reach out to each of my lifted hands and embrace them in the tangled manner that lovers would. For the entirety of this song that is where his hands stayed. It was powerful, and all I could do was start praying for me and him. I could feel God’s comfort, assuring me He has everything taken care of, all I have to do is completely trust Him. Reading this experience does it no justice. The presents of the Holy Spirit was right there, ministering to my heart and mind.
Thirteen hours. That is not much time. Fear not. He is in control. I believe that. I embrace that. I proclaim that.