I had a rather serious, soul-wrenching post planned today, but I just don’t have it in me. My oldest son received his mission call to Milan, Italy last night and I am giddy, silly, over the moon with joy.
Italy. Are you kidding me? Florence, Venice, gelato, pasta, rolling vineyards, soaring Alps. It’s all too deliciously wonderful. Everything around me is bathed in light right now– God is good, the gospel is true, our lives have a plan.
But Monday, just Monday, I was in despair.
For the past year my dad and I have had a disagreement that finally turned so toxic that we stopped speaking or communicating in any way. For the first few months, that separation healed me and allowed me to care for my family and church responsibilities. But in recent weeks that peace eroded into bitterness and anger. I could see no way to progress; no solution. It was an impossible situation. My prayers became angry and accusatory.
And then, on Monday afternoon, my dad arrived on my doorstep with flowers. We talked and cried, yelled and even laughed a bit. At one point, I kicked him out and then let him back in. After several hours, we began to understand each others’ hearts and that impassable healing gate opened wide.
Wide enough that when the mission call arrived, I invited him to my home for the first time in months. My children greeted him at the door with question marks etched across their faces, then settled on the couch with him as Ben opened his envelope and with a laugh and sob read aloud the words, “You are hereby called to serve as a missionary…”
We cheered and hugged and cried. The weight of the last year and a half of grief melted from my shoulders. Impossible. Impassable.
So today, before I skip off (and I mean SKIP!) to the Halloween parade I’d like to ask you– have you seen a hopeless situation solved? do you seek an unobtainable goal? And if you were to choose a mission, any mission, for yourself or your children, where would it be?
Related posts:
Continue reading at the original source →