I missed my boy today. It’s amazing how powerful a word, a song, a smell, or a varied compilation of senses can be in memory recall, vividly transporting you to a former time and place, arousing even the emotions. Today I happened across a poem, must be a decade old now. There was sadness in remembrance, but it’s best not to linger long in the past, for I don’t know God’s specific plans for my life any more today than I did then. I do know that His ways are not my ways for His ways and thoughts are HIGHER. (from Isaiah 55) I also know that if we are faithless, God remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself. (2Timothy 2:13) Knowing that it is God who is at work in you, both to will and to work for His good pleasure, (Phillipians 2:13) helps me accept what I cannot understand and appreciate the salvation found in each day.
Harvesting a Man
I wish my son would confide in me, tell me his thoughts, and hopes, and fears,
but his desire for mom has waned pale
throughout his teenage years.
Unusual can not be attributed to the longing and spaces unfulfilled.
The hurt of the heart proves the strength of the love.
Harvesting the man is a very slow yield.
The work, although I witness it, is not my own to claim, but God has tilled and planted, one day to reap.
Patience would be virtuous and faith would not allow
a mother in her weakest hour to weep.