Changed

Things have changed in my world. It wasn't overnight, but they are big changes. And we're not finished. I don't know what the end result is going to look like, but going backwards is not an option.

Some of the changes were predictable. My kids have grown up. My daughter is out on her own living life as an adult, and doing quite well, thank you very much. If you'd told me just a few years ago that's where we'd be I would never have believed you.

My son is about to start is final semester in college. He's away right now on his first "adult" trip -- he planned and organized the whole thing and is driving across the country with his best friend seeing the sights and experiencing the great outdoors the way he loves. 

Those little babies I worried over have changed. They are grown-ups. Fully functional, "I can take care of myself" adults. I am so very proud of both of them. It also means I've done my job. Not that I'm no longer a mom because I'll always be that, but there's a fundamental shift in the relationship once you reach this point. I'm a touchstone for my kids. They know I'm here. They know I'll listen, talk, advise, and empathize, but they have their own lives to live now, and that's a good thing. (As long as they stay in touch regularly!)

So whether I like it or not, it's time for a change in my job description. It's unrealistic to limit myself to stay-at-home-mom at this point as I don't have any kids to be at home with anymore. I'm just not sure what I want that new job description to say. 

I've looked at some part-time opportunities and applied for a couple of full-time positions that didn't pan out. I'm not really sorry the full-time didn't happen. I don't really want a 9-to-5 job if I don't have to have one. But I'm noticing the truth in something I was told a long time ago. It's pretty hard for a 53-year-old woman to compete with all those 20-somethings searching for jobs. I'm fully qualified. I have a masters degree in my field from a good university. But I have a feeling that on paper I don't look very impressive with those longs breaks from employment. It's difficult to get credit for being a SAHM in the workplace. Most people just don't realize what good training that can be for almost any job.

I'm not complaining. I don't HAVE to get a job right now. No one is going to starve or go without anything if I don't go to work, and I have absolute faith that God will provide whatever I need. I'm just wondering out loud about this point in my life. There is a lot of change going on, which leads to a lot of uncertainty, which means I'm trusting in God more and more.

And that is a good thing.

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What's Important

It's tough here in my world right now. Things are not flowing the way I want them to. I don't think they're flowing the way God intends either, but I am waiting for Him. I know He is present. I know He is in control.

I keep asking Him what He wants me to do. All I hear is "Wait". But waiting can be difficult and lonely. I am waiting in faith. Faith that He has this covered. That He won't abandon me. I have evidence to support His faithfulness. So I'm clinging to that.

I'm praying for myself, but I'm praying really hard for someone else. Someone who is struggling. He's depressed and dissatisfied and scared. Maybe he's feeling hopeless, I'm not sure. I want to fix it, but I can't. I've got some ideas on things that might help, but he's not receptive right now. 

So I'm waiting. It's not something I'm particularly good at, and it's not something our society encourages. We are the "get it now" society. "Just do it". "Have it your way." In America, especially, we are the "pull yourself up by your bootstraps" kind of people. 

None of those are going to cut it in this situation.

So I keep praying, reading, confessing, and asking, with no end in sight. I know what I want, hope, believe to be the outcome -- I just don't know how it's going to happen. 

Finding Ben

Last night I experienced something I never want to go through again. I was a peripheral bystander, but it was horrible enough.

I spent a lovely, quiet evening at home with my husband. We ate dinner together. He studied. I crocheted. I listened as he recounted facts he was studying. We took a break and watched an episode of Doctor Who. We chatted some more.

I picked up my Kindle -- I don't even know why now -- and it began streaming an Amber Alert message from my weather app. I clicked on it as it was local. I sat in horror as I read the information. A little boy from Spring Hill was missing. I have friends in Spring Hill. As I read the description my heart began to race. I read the name and I couldn't process what I was reading. I think I kept saying, "Oh God no." Alan asked what was wrong and I showed him the message, hoping he would tell me I was wrong. He didn't. 

The missing boy was our dear friends 11 year old son. He'd ridden his bike from home about 2:30 yesterday afternoon and not returned home. His bike was found abandoned around 5:30 in a neighboring area. The police and FBI were called in and the Amber Alert was posted.

Everything became a blur at that point. I rushed to my computer and saw that the information was all over Facebook. His picture and information were spreading like wildfire. I joined in the "sharing" hoping that would help in some small way. My husband and I prayed. We called our son at college to tell him, not wanting him to find out via Facebook. I sent messages and prayed. I reminded myself to trust in God.

But I kept thinking of Susan, his mother and my friend. How could she stand this? I kept thinking of Ben and what might be happening to him. Survivor's guilt I guess. Or maybe just first hand knowledge of how bad it could be. 

When our daughter came in, we met her at the door with the news. My husband wanted to let her sleep without the knowledge, but I knew there was no way she wouldn't check Facebook, and I couldn't have her find out that way.

We prepared for bed. I kept thinking all I can do is pray. We watched the news. Huge search parties were out looking for him, but nothing had been found so far. I went to brush my teeth while my husband lay in bed watching the news, hoping and praying for more information.

And then I heard it. Applause coming from the TV. I ran to the bedroom. The search had been called off and the searchers informed that he had been found in the woods. He was taken by an ambulance to the hospital. But he was found. Alive.

And I cried like a baby. Like it had been my baby that was lost. I kept thinking of the parables of the lost coin and the lost sheep. And maybe I finally understood them on a deeper level. It didn't matter what had happened. It didn't matter if Ben had just wandered off thoughtlessly or if he'd been grabbed. All that mattered was he was found. I knew prayers had been answered and I praised God because I knew it was by His hand.

I know this morning that Ben is safe at home. I know that his parents love him and will guide him regardless of the circumstances. And I know that my God is amazing, and that He loves me me and will guide me whatever the circumstances.

Praise God!

linking up with Imperfect Prose