I Will Not, NOT Come

At registration, the tall, lanky frame of him saunters stoic and slow along the halls of this, his new school, with all the potential that awaits him in this sophomore year.

He had pleaded with me, and tried to convince me not to come.

This boy turning man

The one who grew below my heart

The first of the five to make my belly swell with all the potential of who he would be

The one who paved the way

Who broke me in

And is breaking me in still…

In silence and heat we walk–me completely here with him–him wishing I wasn’t here at all.

He walks ahead and I acquiesce, and fall behind–this emerging independence attempting to smother and exclude my involvement.

Oh how he had tried to convince me not to come to registration with him.

Up the stairs and down the stairs–back and forth we silently walk.

Doesn’t he realize how fast these years will pass?

Doesn’t he understand in years to come, how insignificant hight school turns out to be?

And how those who matter most right now, he will likely never see again after high school?

Can’t he see that these high school years that to him are the pinnacle, in actuality are fleeting and only the beginning of all that is to come?

Yet I know that the now means everything to him,

And friend-time is always the goal,

And fitting in and belonging are the hinge-pin for every decision.

And I remember being in that place.

I remember when I walked where he is walking.

And really no one could have given me perspective or helped me to really see–to actually consider my parents as real people, with real feelings, and real pasts, with real insight and helpful wisdom. No one could have convinced me to think of them as “cool,” ir to consider that they’ve “been there” too.

And it’s most certainly part of the stage:

The boy-becoming-man metamorphosis,

The developing of insurmountable independence,

The presumption of knowledge attained beyond anything a parent can offer,

I will not not come

And oh how I know my love for him as we walk. And I cherish him for his quest for independence–this necessary desiring to rip from me and become his own.

And it is ever before me how the love I have in my heart for him, exists among across the years.

From little arms and hands that cuddled, to lanky legs that walk silently ahead.

From jabbering with singing to the reserved tones of “ok” and “fine” resounding.

From incessant talking to short-and-to-the-point text messages.

From so many questions and curiosities of my littler children, to the infrequent inquiries he makes, as he thinks he already has the answers and knows.

And yet don’t I sometimes do this with God?

As I indirectly plead and try to convince Him not to come be by me, when I don’t come to Him first?

As I imply and insist I know better,

And presuming I can handle it, by my not asking Him how I should–flailing and failing as a result?

And yet He is there right beside me. He NEVER leaves my side. He does not, NOT come.

And God lets me walk ahead, and He acquiesces behind. But He pursues and waits for me with a steady hope, and weathers time.

Therefore the LORD longs to be gracious to you,

And therefore He waits on high to have compassion on you.

Isaiah 30:18

And I know from my own life that the years will knock down the pride, and this son’s life will teach him lessons.

The years will bring perspective, and a sudden flooding realization one day–a realization that will escort renewed relationship. Because he will realize who a parent really is to him, and how the deep parent love–a love that is unending, and unconditional–one that pursues and waits in steady hope, and weathers time.

And this capacity for loving like this is only made possible because we are made in the image of God, who loved us first.

Because isn’t it true that my hard knocks and tough-learned lessons bring me perspective…

A sudden realization of who God is, that brings a renewed relationship with Him?

An awareness of My God, my Father,  who is patient with me, as His child?

An awareness of how He loves me in spite of my ignorant-lack-of-perspective self-absorbed heart?

God weathers my whims and lavishes me with mercy and grace. And loves me with an undying love that will never end.

The LORD is gracious and merciful;

Slow to anger and great in lovingkindness.

The LORD is good to all,

And His mercies are over all His works.

The LORD sustains all who fall

And raises up all who are bowed down.

The LORD is righteous in all His ways

And kind in all His deeds.

The LORD is near to all who call upon Him,

To all who call upon Him in truth.

He will fulfill the desire of those who fear Him;

He will also hear their cry and will save them.

Psalm 145:8-9,14,17-19 

And so I’ve determined it is my mama-goal, amidst my deep love for this son of mine, to equip him to eventually fly.

To empower him to make his own way with confidence and strength

To be independent and responsible and productive in this world

To be considerate and kind and others-focused

And his pleading for me not to come to registration implies he thinks he’s arrived. And yet I know better. I can see the training he still requires before independent flight–how his pre-launch preparation is not yet complete.

And so, amidst his pleading and attempts to convince me not to come, he must know and see…

That I will not, NOT come.

This son is part of my very being and I won’t abandon him to his independence before he is ready to fly. Because I love him too much to let him fly untrained, unprepared, and not fully equipped.

And my God loves me too much to allow that for me too…

And so we walk in the silent heat. And he saunters and caves to my presence beside him. Oh how I long to embrace his heart–the one that longs to be significant–this insecure-where-do-I-fit-in heart of his.

If only he knew I DO understand.

If only he could realize I’ve been there too.

If only he could believe that I could help and assist.

But for now, I will walk, silently beside, through the heat of his tumultuous moments of these next few years. And I WILL come along to walk, even when there’s silence.

And we won’t launch yet. And I will not give up, no matter the pleading or attempts at convincing.

And even though he may not acknowledge it, deep inside he knows the truth I have told him from the time he could talk…

We are stuck like Band-Aids.

We’re forever connected…

Because He is part of me.

And I will not, not come.

 How do YOU process this emerging stage of adolescence?

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