1Jo 3:2 "Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be..."
Three out of four of my children are, now, officially "fledglings". They are not quite out of the nest, but they have ventured away completely from the warmth and safety of childhood. They are out in the elements, more than they are home in the nest. They don't each one always make the wisest choices these days.
And my soul worries. Extravagantly.
As with any mother who has more than one or two children, there are one or two or three children that worry me more than the others, and at different times and seasons. It seems that just when one son or daughter is finally more stable and settled and walking closely with the Lord, another son or daughter hits a rough patch. What was I thinking, twenty-some-odd years ago, when I said I wanted a "lot" of kids??
I have not fallen asleep easily or lightly in several years now. Something deep inside my mother's heart yearns mightily to know that, in the end, each one of these four will be allright. I have cried more in the past one year alone than I have cried in ten years previously. When they were small, their issues were small. Now they are big. And their every choice affects their destiny.
There are no "do-overs".
There is no more time to say, "We're working on that."
For all apparent purposes, we're done. Any input from us as parents has to be solicited to be of any value whatsoever. Thank God, they still seek us out for guidance and friendship.
When one of my children struggles spiritually, I somehow know it. I sense it, and the weight of that discernment has threatened to take my breath away, from time to time. I find myself sighing deeply...from my spirit. Weary to the marrow of my bones.
Such was my situation one morning, not long ago. I was outside, watering my garden, heavy of heart. A couple of my children are manifesting what to me are "warning signs". Small bits of heart-ground, relinquished to the enemy of their soul...and when you give the enemy an inch, he takes ten miles when its all said and done.
As I was tending the garden, I looked up and saw something that made me laugh out loud - a fledgling male cardinal. The only indication that this was, indeed, a cardinal I was looking at, was the tell-tale beak, and the barest flush of red plumage. Otherwise, this young man was a mess of pinfeathers and gawky ugliness. He was a sight.
And once again/again, the Lord spoke clearly and sweetly to my soul:
"It doth not yet appear what (he) shall be..."
Yes, Lord. Thank You. Those young fledgling males are a work in progress, and a "piece of work" sometimes, but You are in control.
The fledgling hopped from branch to branch of our tree, where his nest is, squawking and screeching, pinfeathers askew. I think he also believed that he'd never change...that what he was on that day, would be what he was to be forever.
But I've kept my eye on him. It actually took only a few short days for him to morph into the handsomest specimen that I've ever seen.
Then again, I'm a little prejudiced. He's "my" baby bird.
linking to Ann at A Holy Experience...
