After service was over, we went home and took a nap and ate a bit. Then it was time for the goodbyes. Whatever happened to “parting is such sweet sorrow”. Adieiu and such things. They get so sordid these days. Now that they are grown people. I often had a regimen of departure that we would follow. When they were little tykes we had a sweet song that we sang for our daddy each day to bid him goodbye. Now it is every man for himself and I am not the controller of the thoughts that are engaged in and shared at such sacred moments. I think they are sacred moments. I can almost feel the hands of my daddy smacking us with aftershave and saying in a growl. “This will put hair on your chests”. We were his little fellows and my children were reared to be “little pilgrims” and now we are in a new season where there are no tiny “truglodytes" and we are just winging it with our traditions. New traditions of free expression and nonconformity is the order of the day. It is a “hippy” time for our family and we are learning to get used to it and perhaps love it. Each person is a single entity. They are not a family unto themselves yet and they are exploring their lives and their vocabulary.
The out of control feeling for a person like myself who studied and developed their thinking upto a point and meticulously fed their minds with pro-family propaganda. Of course their rebellion is the pro individual sort. Whatever happened to the wonderful unity that we seemed to have, when they were little. Perhaps it was a mirage. Perhaps it grew into a bunch of grown individuals who just keep bumping into each other and getting into each others hair.
That is who we are. Who we are right now. Establishing and developing the individual faith of a bunch of individuals. It was heartening to see my teenage son praying in service and raise his hand in confidence of his own faith. I enjoyed that. The folly of our playful banter can’t take that away from me. The folly of our loving acceptance of one another with out fear. I forget some of the the fear that kept us from back talk and other things. The fear that kept us from free expression, I never want to go back to.
The wonderful imagination of Jay Adams book when I first read his book about the family and he spent nearly a chapter on how children take mercy and grace for granted in a family. I remember saying that I could not imagine such a thing. Children running to their father and saying something positively vile and sordid and not ducking. Jay Adams said, if you are a merciful parent you will have that happen. I couldn’t imagine it. I followed his way, as much as I could and now when they go there, I can take out my sordid language and threaten them with toothlessness. We both know that we will always love each other and that we would never do anything to really harm one another though we get in each others last nerves. One day it will all be a memory and the thought that the quiet memories of our bustling house will be a story of yesteryear is motivating and cultivating. Take it down now. You may not remember and when they have to read this story to you from the blog, you can say, did that really happen to me? Did Ezra really kiss me in the mouth and say, see you tomorrow mom, in his nearly manly voice? Enoch was calling how many times to find out about what cupcakes and what ice cream to get? Was I there? Was Ethan sleeping next to me in service with all that noise and bumping of the black church traditions and he could sleep? He is like his father was at that age. A full mind and a tired heart, he will find his way. He will find his spiritual passion. He will wake up to the things that we all are grateful for. Busyness and messiness of life has created great a people after a while. Maybe a long while and maybe a very long while and maybe tomorrow…
