While I was getting ready to go, I pleaded with God to comfort my heart. I was far away from friends and family, feeling alone, and I needed Him to hold me tight. I wanted to get to know Him as my Comforter in ways I had not had a chance to know Him before.
As we pulled out of our neighborhood, I caught my breath. Despite the fact that sunbeams are high up in the sky, I have always felt like they were God's way of sending me a hug. I was completely unprepared for this sight when I pulled up to the stop sign.
I know this picture is kind of dark, but if you look closely, you can see that the sunbeams touch the road.
The sunbeams continued for a mile or so. That is Jeff's car ahead of me. Depending on how the road turned, at times, I drove right through the beams of light.
I knew that God was showing me in a tangible way that He was holding us tight. And then He whispered, "Karin, give Ryan to me."
I realized that although I had thought it, I had never actually said it.
"He's Your's, Lord. He's always been Yours. You just let me have him for a few years. Thank you for letting me be his Mama."
And I knew that I could entrust my boy to the Father's arms. Arms so much more capable of taking care of him than I could ever hope to be. My thoughts drifted to another time, nineteen years ago, when his precious birth family entrusted him to us. I relived the moment that his birth mother placed him lovingly in my arms, sobbing, with heart breaking....and yet knowing that hers was an act of love that was for his good. Years later, I stood at that same crossroad, wanting to hold on to him but knowing that for his good, he needed to be placed into the arms of another.
I don't cry much, but as I saw those sunbeams and felt God's gentle love, the tears started to fall. I am so blessed to have had the privilege (and sometimes the aggravation) of being Ryan's mom.
We arrived at the m*litary building and walked in. Tears flowed afresh as the reality of where he was going hit me yet again. I do not know what it is like to take a child to college, but I think it must be a bit different. The m*litary owns him. We no longer have a say in anything. All of a sudden, we have been cut out of his life as his guides and protectors, and have been relegated to the side-lines. It's not necessarily a bad thing--it's just very abrupt and difficult to process.
We walked upstairs and saw Ryan sitting dejectedly in the back of a room of other recruits. When we got to where he was sitting, he looked up at us and quietly said, 'I'm not shipping."
"What?"
"I'm not shipping today. The doctor said the injury on my arm needs to heal before I can go."
Ryan had taken a little ride on his dirt bike on Saturday while we were at the beach. He said he wasn't going very fast, but he hit a rock and took a spill. His arms and legs had a fair amount of road rash, but he was hopeful that he would still pass the physical.
He didn't.
Poor kid. He is soooooo disappointed. He had been counting the days. At first they told us that he could leave in 4 weeks. This afternoon, he came home and told us that they had to completely re-do all of his paperwork. The good news is that he is now going to be able to get job training in his first choice (which was not the case before). The bad news (for him) is that he will not be leaving until Jan. 2010. Yes...January.
We are now at a bit of a loss. He needs a job. He needs something to do. He's bored and friendless here. So we are praying for guidance. We know that God has a reason for this delay, and because He loves Ryan, the delay is for good.
Sooo....we did all that crying for nothing. ha.
Maybe tomorrow will be a quiet day?
I realized that although I had thought it, I had never actually said it.
"He's Your's, Lord. He's always been Yours. You just let me have him for a few years. Thank you for letting me be his Mama."
And I knew that I could entrust my boy to the Father's arms. Arms so much more capable of taking care of him than I could ever hope to be. My thoughts drifted to another time, nineteen years ago, when his precious birth family entrusted him to us. I relived the moment that his birth mother placed him lovingly in my arms, sobbing, with heart breaking....and yet knowing that hers was an act of love that was for his good. Years later, I stood at that same crossroad, wanting to hold on to him but knowing that for his good, he needed to be placed into the arms of another.
I don't cry much, but as I saw those sunbeams and felt God's gentle love, the tears started to fall. I am so blessed to have had the privilege (and sometimes the aggravation) of being Ryan's mom.
We arrived at the m*litary building and walked in. Tears flowed afresh as the reality of where he was going hit me yet again. I do not know what it is like to take a child to college, but I think it must be a bit different. The m*litary owns him. We no longer have a say in anything. All of a sudden, we have been cut out of his life as his guides and protectors, and have been relegated to the side-lines. It's not necessarily a bad thing--it's just very abrupt and difficult to process.
We walked upstairs and saw Ryan sitting dejectedly in the back of a room of other recruits. When we got to where he was sitting, he looked up at us and quietly said, 'I'm not shipping."
"What?"
"I'm not shipping today. The doctor said the injury on my arm needs to heal before I can go."
Ryan had taken a little ride on his dirt bike on Saturday while we were at the beach. He said he wasn't going very fast, but he hit a rock and took a spill. His arms and legs had a fair amount of road rash, but he was hopeful that he would still pass the physical.
He didn't.
Poor kid. He is soooooo disappointed. He had been counting the days. At first they told us that he could leave in 4 weeks. This afternoon, he came home and told us that they had to completely re-do all of his paperwork. The good news is that he is now going to be able to get job training in his first choice (which was not the case before). The bad news (for him) is that he will not be leaving until Jan. 2010. Yes...January.
We are now at a bit of a loss. He needs a job. He needs something to do. He's bored and friendless here. So we are praying for guidance. We know that God has a reason for this delay, and because He loves Ryan, the delay is for good.
Sooo....we did all that crying for nothing. ha.
Maybe tomorrow will be a quiet day?
