Send Off!

 In just a few days, my middle son will be graduating from high school.  It still feels surreal to me, that this giant man-boy will soon be done with his high school career, and also with his time at home.  This is his last week of driving to school with his brother, of morning "circle up" prayer with all of us before school. . .the last week of everything we've ever known with this boy.  

And ohhhhh - my heart is aching a bit.  I've launched two kids already, who are thriving and of whom we're so proud.  And I have absolutely no doubt that this sweet and loving boy will have just the same story.  He continues to amaze me with his strength, his empathy, and his generosity.  He loves Jesus fiercely and that relationship is going to deepen through the pastoral leadership program he was accepted into in college.  He wants to become a nurse and care for others the way he has been cared for by countless nurses over his lifetime, and I know he'll provide compassionate care for his patients. 

So yep.  In short, I really love this boy and I'm gonna miss him like crazy.  But as we close out his senior year and send him off in a few months, I know he's prepared. I know he isn't alone.

This morning at worship, we had a send off for the seniors in our congregation. The seniors and their parents were called up and our pastor prayed for their futures - that they would listen to God's calling in their lives and walk with Him as they move on from this place.  After the prayer, my husband and I traced the sign of the cross over his eyes, ears, mouth, heart, hands, and feet as we prayed for him.  We prayed for his heart, that he may always know his Savior; his hands, that God may be glorified in the work they do; and his mouth that God's praises may always be spoken. We have done this same blessing for all of our kids when they were preparing for confirmation, and I was immediately taken back to the time we had done this very thing for this son. I remember being choked up then, and I was quite emotional today too.  

He was 11 the first time we gave him these blessings, and I wrote a bit about this rite in this post.  This is what I wrote then:

Last Sunday we were able to participate in a confirmation rite with our 11-year-old.  During the rite, we made the sign of the cross on his ears, his eyes, his mouth, his shoulders, his heart, his hands, and his feet.  At the beginning of the rite, our son was smiling a bit and feeling self-conscious.  But somewhere around his heart, I started to get choked up (which surprised me at the time, but of course is not surprising whatsoever).  As my husband's and my hands traced the cross on his heart, my mind flashed back to his body in the NICU, hooked up to machines keeping him alive.  It's hard to reconcile those early memories with the strapping, healthy boy he is today.  Praise God from whom all blessings flow!

These prayers take on new meaning now as we prepare to send him off.  And while it's so hard to imagine our daily life without him in it, I know he's ready.   I know he's not alone.  I know God will be walking before him, beside him, behind him, hemming him in.  We will continue to pray that all he does will be to the glory of God, just as we always have.  

He's come a long way, and we know God's plans for him are still unfolding.  We can't wait to see how God uses him to serve others!

Lax it Up!

 About 6 years ago, my two younger boys asked to play a new sport.  

"Can we play lacrosse, mom?" It's really fun and we want to try it!"

When I asked about baseball, also a spring sport and one I had come to love, exhausting though it was, they assured me they could do both, since the overlap was only a month or so.

So with caution, we let them try it out.  Of course, the only team they could play on practiced and competed at a field 30 minutes away - three times a week.  My Tuesday and Thursday nights were now spent in the car (cold nights) or walking the nearby neighborhood (warm nights).  In between entertaining my younger daughter for those two hour practice slots, I got glimpses of this strange game.  I didn't understand much of it. . .my biggest takeaway was that there was a lot of whacking and hitting and running and scrambling for the ball.  And oh how I preferred to watch baseball!

Fast forward to this year. My eldest son is now a senior and he and his brother play on the same team for their high school.  Their last game was this week.  While there is still a lot I don't get about the game, I enjoy it so much more now.  I love to see my sons run down the field, shoot, and score.  I still think it's very violent and have been known to quietly say "Don't hit my baby!" to rough opponents.  But this season has been especially meaningful to me because it is the only year the boys have played on the same team.  

Maybe every mother would be this way, or maybe it's just me, being my usual sentimental self, but seeing the boys on the field together is the best thing ever. Watching them walk on and off the field together or confer during the game makes my heart so happy.  But my absolute favorite thing, as everyone who has sat with me during a game this year knows, is the Brotherly Passes. Many times during each game, one brother would pass to the other and I loved it every single time.  Brothers!  Brothers who lax it up together!  Brothers who look so strong and capable and old out there! Brothers who look out for each other! Brothers who are friends.

As each of our children has overlapped with a sibling in high school for a year or two, we've watched the relationship between those two siblings deepen.  These two brothers have spent two years of high school together, and playing lacrosse this year on the same team has been one of the many ways they've connected.  I'm thankful for this crazy, violent sport after all.