Parenting: A Third Phase

Back in September, Sue and I entered into a third phase of our parental experience. The first phase, obviously, is when our children are totally dependent upon us to meet their needs. They live under our roof, and by our rules. As they get older they are able to make some decisions, but for the most part, we were responsible to make sure they are safe, healthy, and happy.

The second phase is when they are "out," but still around. You know what I mean; when they are out of high school, and legally responsible for themselves, but have not really severed that tie to the washing machine, couch, and refrigerator. Maybe they are in college, or have their own apartment. Let's be honest, as parents we grumble about this, but we really kind of like it - at least we still see them every so often and can have some input into their lives, even if it is just some food or the occasional few dollars we slip them for a little gas.

For us, the third phase was when we moved from Kentucky to Montana, and left our older two kids in the Bluegrass State. Rachel's wedding last week was an even stronger indicator of our curent location on the parenting chart. Saying good bye to my oldest boy, and my daughter and new son-in-law on Saturday left us in the frighteningly awkward position of...not knowing when we would see them again. This is new territory for us. You see, even though we lived 80 miles from Rachel, and 50 miles from Andrew, we always saw them during the holidays, and on various and sundry weekends when Andrew needed a home-cooked meal, and Rachel needed to do her laundry. That won't be happening now that we are 1900 miles away.

This new phase is going to be difficult. Thanksgiving and Christmas are going to be strange without them. But, we trust that God will get us all through it, and future times together will be that much more special because we understand in an even deeper way the value and blessing of family. And, we thank the Lord now even more for our little "late" gift - Josiah - at least we have a phase or two longer with him.

I Had Her First...

Put some kids and a few toys together, and it won't be long until you hear, "It's mine! I had it first!" The argument always starts when one child decides to take the toy that another child has been playing with. Strangely, that is what I felt on Friday evening just an hour or so before I performed the ceremony that united my precious daughter, Rachel, to her fiance, Brian. The beaming mother of the bride had come into the church auditorium and grabbed my hand, then led me to the room where Rachel and her attendants had been busily getting ready for the event. When I walked through the door, there was my little girl - and all I can say is that I have never seen her more beautiful. Needless to say, the hug was long and the tears were falling.

The thought then occurred to me that I got to see her in her wedding dress before Brian did. But, that is only right, isn't it? I was the first man to hold her. I was the first man to dance around a room with her. I was the first man to wipe the tears from her eyes. I was the first man she said, "I love you" to. I had her first! But, then I remembered that ultimately, she wasn't mine. She belongs to her Creator, the One who formed her in the womb, and has every day of her life written in a book. And, on the page marked "October 15, 2010", the story of Rachel's life tells of how the one who had her first, humbly gives her to the one who will have her for the rest of her life. Brian has her now, and I will step back and be the #2 guy. I'm okay with that, because I know Who is writing the story, and He always does things perfect.

For twenty special years, she was mine. Thank you, Lord, for letting me have her first.

The Conviction of Things Not Seen

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen." (Heb. 11:1)

Sitting here, looking out my office window, I can't see the mountains. But, I know they are there. The fog that has filled our little valley this morning has rendered these massive mounds of earth and rock unseeable. More amazing than that, fog is just a vapor, a mist, and yet it has the ability to hide what is huge and unmoving. How absolutely perfect as an illustration of our struggle with faith. Sometimes the fog of trials, difficulties, pain, and loss hide from our eyes that which is certainly there. It has been there, it is there, it will be there - even if we can't see it right now.

Regardless of how thick is the "fog" that covers the reality of God's presence, God's goodness, God's righteousness, and God's love in our lives, we believe with certainty (with conviction) that He is there. He has been, He is, He will be. We must not let the mist that will vanish with the glorious light and heat of grace and truth deceive you. He is there. Unchanging in nature and character. Never ceasing to be all He has promised to be for those who believe... in faith.