How will he stand?

He sits underneath the slide, tears streaming down his face.

And I walk away....

Because he told me to.

Except for that first morning that is always wrapped in merciful ignorance, this is how every school day has begun so far.  And I wonder, as I walk away, how will he climb out from under there when that bell rings, and it's time to stand?

He comes home and tells me that he always makes sure to pray before he eats lunch, "even though no one else does.". I tell him that's awesome, and to get used to it, because those of us who give thanks to our Creator for the gifts He gives  are in the minority in this world.  I say I know it can be kind of weird to be the only one praying. And he says:

"It's not weird to me, because: (his reasons are always twofold) One: I'm used to praying.  And two: I love Jesus.  So im going to pray even if they don't.  I also pray for the other kids while I do it."

Oh, there are no words.  I could leap for joy.  And yet, I don't.  Because I wonder....

What will happen when someone points out his culturally odd habit...and laughs?

What will happen when he's finally been accepted into the cool kids' group, and he's got to interrupt a conversation...to pray?

What will happen when the atheist high school kids compare God to the flying spaghetti monster?

What will happen when his science teacher tells him point blank that his beliefs don't line up with "reality"?

I'm mulling all of this over at the kitchen sink, where a notecard sits.  My grandfather...Papa....has spent years filling notecards with reminders from God that he wants to burn on his mind and heart.  When he filled an entire photo box with cards, he gave it to my dad.  My dad let me borrow it, and I switch out a card every week on my kitchen sink.

I flip this one over.  And there it is:

I look up Romans 14:4 in my Bible, which uses the word, "stand", instead of succeed.  I have my answer.

This verse speaks of one who holds a conviction that another might not, and says that it is before his own master that each one stands or falls.  Then comes this gem of a verse, which God used to show me:

It will not be my excellent parenting, wise cautions, morning Bible stories, faithfulness to pray, quick answers, flawless theology, or careful sheltering that enables my boy to stand in conviction...to SHINE in the darkness.

It will be the work of Almighty God.  Nothing else.

And so, this week, I continue my Bible stories, our memory verses, and my prayers...NOT because they will make him stand. But because they will show him Jesus. And HE is able to make him stand.

And now, how do I let go?

And the question on my mind as I laid in bed this morning?  "How will I ever let go of that little hand when it's time?"

Because, you see, I can hold that hand all day long.  I can wash it with soapy water.  I can high-five it.  I can smack it when it reaches for an electrical outlet.  But let it go?

Simply because I had to prepare for my kindergarten Sunday school class and also simply because God's timing is perfect, I read the beginning of 1 Samuel today.  And God introduced me to Hannah.  I couldn't help but wonder as I imagined Hannah leading her (probably) THREE year old son to the "house of the Lord" (which was not the nice place it sound like because of the corrupt priests within its walls): how DID she let go of that hand?

And no one would blame Hannah for going back on her word.  I mean, come on...she'd had no children, she'd prayed and waited desperately for years, and had vowed that if God gave her a son, she'd dedicate him to the Lord. She said she'd take him to Shiloh, to be raised by the preists there, once he was weaned.  But couldn't she just have had a little more time with him?  To cradle that precious face?  Laugh at his jokes?  Celebrate his birthdays?  Sing him to sleep?

But for Hannah, parenting was not just about these treasured things.  This boy, her only child, was a gift from God...given not only to her, but to the nation of Israel as well.  He was a light, shining in a very dark time.  Though Hannah could not have known all that God had planned to do in and through Samuel, she trusted her God and kept her commitment to what His spirit had prompted her to do.  For Hannah, parenting was about acknowledging the sovereignty of  God and entrusting her most precious treasure to Him.

Thanks to Hannah, I knew what to do when the first bell rang this morning and all the kids lined up to go inside.  I let go of Andy's hand, and my heart immediately grabbed onto my Father's hand.  And Hannah and I- we did not leave our boys in the hands of the perverse, the wicked, the corrupt.  We placed them right where they belong - in the hands of their loving Creator.  And we left giving thanks for His goodness, His strength, His power, His faithfulness - albeit, through tears.

And this is the verse that my husband sent through email to our son today; but really, God sent it through him to me -

"fear not, for I am with you;
be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
I will uphold you with my victorious right hand."
-Isaiah 41:10

And I held that victorious hand all the way home.

And Andy?  Well. He had a pretty good day.  He says he got sad a few times that he wasn't home, but that he quickly "snapped out of it" and went back to what he was doing.  In my book, that's sheer grace.

And then we talked of glow-in-the-dark stickers, and how they soak up the sun's light and glow bright in the darkness.

The Night Before

Those blue eyes scanned the brightly lit classroom today, and I couldn't help but choke back the inevitable tears.  Wasn't I just nursing this boy?  Feeding him his first bottle?  Teaching him to walk? Isn't this the boy who just yesterday, could barely pronounce the word, "teacher"?  And now, he's having quite the entertaining conversation with his soon to be teacher about the color of apples.  As they say, "where does the time go"?

Oh, I have wrestled with and prayed over and read and contemplated and discussed and agonized over the "right" way to educate this young man.  And I feel a thousand things all at once...that I'm giving my son over to someone else to raise; that I'm sending him into a system that will do whatever it can to disillusion him and dampen his spirit; that because of the social pressure he'll experience, he'll never be the innocent, sweet boy that he is now.  He'll encounter talk of drugs, sex, disdain for one's parents, long before I ever did....and I was too young.

Yet, I also feel a sadness for the thousands of souls who walk through the doors of public schools every day in America that have never heard the name of Jesus.  They walk through those doors alone, and carry burdens they were never meant to bear.  They are lonely, weak, tired, and broken.  Some attempt to fill the emptiness with accomplishments and dreams of success, others with friendships and acceptance at any cost.  Their parents send them to school to learn the truth; and yet, they wont encounter the fullness of the truth there...unless, of course, they encounter Jesus Christ Himself.

This is where we believe our calling lies.  We have enrolled our son in public school not because it is the "best" way to educate him; not because we think we can keep him from succumbing to all the temptations it offers way too early in life; not because I don't have confidence in my own ability to teach my children; but because our God has called us as a family to form relationships with people within the public school system that desperately need Him, and show them His unfailing love.  I say this weakly and strongly.  My flesh is weak- I'm certainly afraid of my sweet boy being chewed up and spit out by mean kids, uncaring teachers, and high-sounding empty  philosophy.  Yet, I am strong, because:

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding.  In all your ways, acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths."

I don't know if God will have us stick with public school for 12 months or 12 years.  All I can say is that we are trusting Him, and are very much looking forward to seeing how He directs our paths.  Please come along with us and see how God works in us and our soon-to-be friends in a place that cries out for His love.