My son, on this day, Sunday, boarded a plane and is flying off to West Africa on a mission trip with 7 other mission-minded people. I hugged my young man good-bye, proud of his obedience to the Lord's call.
But as I sit here by myself, I don't see the young man. I see the little boy who once was, holding his arms up to me so I could pick him up and fly him through the air as if he was a plane, building lego hats and wearing them, playing under the school table soaring his pencils in the air as if they were swords fighting and planes flying. I can hear the giggles that always came from the little boy I use to carry and fly around, making buzzing sounds with my mouth to give sound effects.
The little boy grew up in more ways than one. He is taller than his momma now, he can pick me up off the floor, his faith is strong and we still giggle together at times.
He now wears the suit of armor and carries the sword of the spirit with him. He will speak and share truth and life to ones on the other side of the ocean. He will sail on the wings of His Savior and I will be standing on the promises of same Savior. God watches over the young man now as I carry the little boy in my heart.
The Lord is carrying my son and He is holding me. We rise on the wings and rest in the shadow of the wings of the one we both call our Savior. . .Jesus.
If I rise on the wings of dawn,
if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there Your hand will guide me,
Your right hand will hold me fast.
Thank you Father for guiding the little boy into adulthood. Thank you for using me, his mother, to lead him day to day while You held me day to day. Thank you for what you did for the both of us; lifting us up on the wings of dawn to new heights, new sights, new hearts, new paths and for never letting your Right hand let go.
Your hand is strong and your wings are precious.
I pray most gratefully in your most Holy Name,