Call Me Silly

Call me silly if you like - but I can't help it. In fact I don't want to help it. Son#3 has just left to return to Uni and I'm dripping like a tap! I miss him already. This is his second year at Uni and I think I'm finding it harder now than I did this time last year. Perhaps there's a few reasons for that.

Last year, Son#2 was also going to be in the same town for the first half of the year. I felt better knowing that the brother Son#3 is closest to would be near by. I also knew they would look out for each other. This year Son#2 is back home.

Last year, Son#3 was staying in a Christian hostel. I knew he'd have lots of company and plenty of good food - and I was right. This year he's in a flat (apartment for my US friends) with 3 others. It is behind the Christian hostel so it's not an entirely new environment for him, but flatting will certainly be a new experience. And this week I've realised that I probably should have spent more time teaching him to cook!

The year before last, Son#3 had argued a lot with his younger brothers and - because we're so similar - the two of us had also clashed on more than one occasion. Whether it was just a maturity thing or he was struggling with the restrictions of home or it was as he claimed and was all our fault, I don't know - but after a year away he came home for holidays and those tensions seemed to have vanished. Perhaps too because we'd missed him so much we were nicer to him.

Last year Son#3 began Uni refreshed after an extended break. This year he returns after having worked his holidays - most of it on night shift which he didn't find easy. This year will be a busy year for him and it's a shame that he's starting it already tired and feeling the pressure.

It seems just yesterday that I first held the precious bundle that was our third son in my arms. I wish so much that I could convey to the parents I work with each day how quickly the years really do pass.

When I see their little ones crying because Mum or Dad have to leave (and boys seems to have a harder time of it than girls); when I hold them as they go off to sleep and they struggle because it's not me they want but their parents; when I read the research that suggests that boys shouldn't be left in care before their third birthday, I wish there was some way I could prove to these parents that these early years pass all too quickly and can never be reclaimed and that nothing - absolutely nothing - is worth the cost of missing out on time with their children.

I had no idea of the research when I decided to stay home with my children. All I knew was that I loved them and enjoyed them and wanted to be with them. God had entrusted them to me to raise and I wasn't going to let someone do it for me. I have no regrets for the decision I made. I'd do it again. In fact I wish I could do it all again - and then I wouldn't have had to say goodbye to my son just a short while ago!

But since I can't, I'll trust God's promises to see us through:

You have seen what I did to the Egyptians, and how I bore you on eagles’ wings and brought you to Myself (Exodus 19:3-5, NKJV).

But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint (Isaiah 40:31).