Tribute to a Steadfast Son

His soaked and dirty jeans are drying on the washer, waiting for the load to be started.  Our son is on his way to Indonesia via Seoul and Singapore, waylaid and waiting because of late planes and missed flights.  Three weeks!  Our youngest feels like there’s been a death in the family, never having been away from her brother and best friend before.  But in some ways it is a passing from the death of immaturity into the life of manhood and calling.

That last night before he left was something else!  Back from our vacation he had about 48 hours to finish landscaping work for neighbors who’d been waiting for his return.  He was out in the pouring rain until 8:00, meticulously pressure-washing their driveway, and I’m biting my tongue thinking about that disheveled stack of clothing and sundries still lying on his bed and the empty backpack.   At last, at 9 he’s in our garage.  What now?  Oh.  The moving of his disabled tractor from the neighbor’s garage.   Not nearly so simple as it sounds.  He’s over by himself figuring out the problem for close to an hour, while I’m counting down the minutes until that plane leaves.  Ten o’clock sees us making a roaring racket down the street inching the John Deere along with the Kubota.  But every inch of the figuring out of it all, he had done with steadfast thoughtfulness and planning, experimenting and thinking through how it could be done.  No way in million years could I have moved that thing!  I was fascinated to see his mind's wheels moving, and his calm demeanor in spite of leaving in just a few hours.  Just do the next thing…  

Yes, we were up till 2, and he left before 6;  but in those hours I saw the emerging of a man, steady and sure and minded toward the pieces and parts of the calling God will increasingly be making clear.  And now for three weeks he will be working in the midst of the very kind of environment, uncertainties and difficulties of that world.  Across the world.

On our vacation we got three (yes, 3) flat tires.   Mmhmm, long story.  They were worth it.  Somewhat comically, husband stood by and read the instructions while son climbed under the car and did the dirty work.  We girls laughed and took pictures.

But the real story is a young man learning the skills to take his place as one who can serve.  

A car came by this lonely place, just a path of rocks across the delta where the famous Copper River salmon come through, asking if we were fine but not having the slightest thought to help.  They laughed at him and said it was good that a boy turned out to be good for something after all, and I cried foul.  He’s been a blessing, this boy to man.  What a wild thrill to see all that the Lord is making him to be, to mold him and use him for His glory.  And we’re only at the beginning of the story!