Not my life, but my son’s life. That’s what flashing before my eyes.
Today we have the meeting to set up his move to a group home. All of the staff will be there, both the folks from his day program and from the house where he will live.
It’s a positive thing, of course, something for which we’ve (my wife and I) waited for a long time.
I can’t speak for her feelings, and I can only guess at our son’s, so I’ll shift to first person here.
I realize that my role in my son’s life is not over, but much of what I can do and shape is. I’ve formed what I can in his life, second guessed myself to the point of agony, been critiqued and judged plenty from without, as well as encouraged and supported at precious points along the way.
I can look back on…
…who Joey was…
…who he’s become…
…and ponder who he’ll be.
Something of me travels with him, of course. And I pray that it is whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable (Philippians 4:8). God knows and every day reminds me that there’s plenty of me that needs to be ignored and forgotten, and I can only pray that little of that drags along with Joey.
So a new leg of the journey commences, over territory we’ve not been and over which we’ll have ever diminishing control. But ain’t that life.
An old priest I knew always included a warning in his message at the baptism of a child. You (parents) know that you’re handing your child over to God now. You’re no longer in charge of the outcomes.
As my life flashes before my eyes, and Joey’s plays across my imagination, I’ll trust that warning, and know that all of our lives are in the hands of the One who’s cared for us beyond all deserving.
They will declare, “The Lord is just! He is my rock! There is no evil in him!” (Psalm 92:15, NLT)