God's Boys will be good boys!
I took off to watch my precious eldest son at the awards ceremony of his 8th grade class. No titles, no awards, just good sportsmanship. The toss and the serve and I am ready and he is ready to put the pressure of expectation upon himself for the high-school agenda. I love the look of lust in his eye. Lust for recognition, lust for excellence. It is within him and an excellent motivation to proceed with. I always have it for him, but it means nothing, if he has it not for himself.
I admire my relationship with my father even more, as it has prepared me for the wrestling and serving up balls to play against this alter ego of myself in my son. It seems that all of the family comes to the aid of a mother seeking the wisdom of God in rearing her many children. Is this serve going to be an American twist or a flat serve down the line? I have to consider my ways when talking to him and strategizing how to motivate him. Hands off, for the most part, not too much coddling or cajoling.
I snuck into the dance, just long enough to witness him doing the cupid shuffle. I felt like dad. Don't look at me, I would say. Don't look at me, he says. Here we are doing the same thing all over again. The generations are hugging eachother throughout time. God has made us for His own glory and we seek to glorify Him and be what He made us to be. We cannot get away from God's creation of us. Halleluia! Dance, he did, and pretty well. I love seeing him free and care free and still just as competitive as my father and I. What a man, if handled rightly.
God may choose to challenge him by taking me out of the mix, through death, as He did with Horatio. God may choose to challenge me through him to love him and be there as a reference here on earth. Whichever, through life or through death, I am his mother and my prints are already upon him.
Reading Arthur Ashe and Horatio Nelson tells me that God often does great things through men who live with the maternal longing at a young age. They have that yearning to see their mother one day. It is a palpable and tasteable sense to them. The grief, is a prod and the crushing effect is God trampling out the vintage, so to speak. So, it doesn't matter to me which way, though I think I can do him some good if left here. God knows which way is best.
Summer is coming and Enoch is motivated to work on his scholastic ability over the summer because of not getting any awards this year. That is pacing. A kick in the pants. What is his motive? What is his goal? Thrilled to be your mother.
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