Letting Them Go

I think the hardest part in parenting is realizing we can't protect our children.  We obviously do our very best, but beyond wrapping them in bubble wrap and stashing them in the crawlspace, there are so many things beyond our control.  The safety and protection of our children is one of those things we just absolutely have to give to God.

This realization is hitting home more and more as I'm raising my first teenager. Sometimes I watch Noah when he's not looking and wonder when this whole adult-male thing happened. Noah is maturing, growing, adding to his responsibilities, and able to make life altering decisions.  He's home less and less, will soon be driving (right now he's busy driving the Jeep no further than up and down the driveway...), and he's making (sort of) adult choices.  I'll be honest, it scares the life out of me.  All I can do is pray and hope that I've guided him well enough to make good choices.  I pray for absolute wisdom and discernment in the choices he makes.  I pray he listens to God, and follows His path.

A few months ago Noah dropped a bomb on us concerning his future.  At the tender age of 15, he's decided to forgo college after high school, and enlist in the Marine Corps instead.  It took him weeks to come to us with this decision, afraid of our reaction ("I knew you'd cry, Mom"--yes, I had to leave the room, and yes, it took me several days before I could look at him without crying.).  I don't think he was worried we would be disappointed, but I knew he was worried about my reaction most of all. I still get teary when I think about it, I pray constantly, I've sent frantic emails to friends who have already been through this, and I grab him up in tight hugs, proclaiming, "But you're MY boy!" Fortunately, Noah knew to expect all of this, and handles me very well.

I'm proud of Noah.  He did not make this decision lightly.  He did research with the local JROTC officers, spoke with a recruiter, and has done countless hours of reading and comparing the military branches.  This is how we've raised our kids--to respect the military, to love our country, and to serve God by serving His people and thinking of others.  I've seen Noah give a homeless man his shirt literally off his own back with no thought of what he'd wear home.  Year after year, he's given all of his youth camp allowance to the church, with no thought of how he'd feed himself.  I've seen him take all of his money out of his wallet and give it to a man on the side of the road, telling me that man needed it more than he did. Last Christmas he gave a gift card to a single mom so she could treat her little girls. I've seen countless examples of absolute blind love and trust in my son.  He has a very tender soul.  Noah is a world changer.  A career of serving others only makes sense.

Noah has been prophesied over twice now, both prophets speaking of missionary work.  When Noah returned from camp two weeks ago, he said, "You know, the military IS missions work.  A lot of times they respond to the disaster, but they are also there to prevent disasters."  He's right.  I can't argue with that.

I won't be the mom who prevents my children from doing what they want in life (unless it's eating Cheetos on my couch while playing video games into their 20s--then I'm going to be all about preventing that).  I can't be the one who stands in Noah's way just because he's growing out of his bubble wrap.  He's only 15.  There's still a chance he could change his mind.  But it won't be because I'm standing in his way.