One recent morning, I drove our boys, aged 16 and 13, to school. I sat in the car with the older one for a few minutes while he finished his breakfast.
“I like that,” he offered, his head nodding toward the dashboard.
“What? The music?” I ventured.
“Mh-mm.” He nodded.
I agreed, noting the beauty of the classical piece.
“Can I read something to you?” he asked.
A quick glance at the clock assured me that yes, we still had time.
“Sure,” I was curious what it might be.
He finished the last bite of muffin, opening the packet of papers sitting in his lap. With a bashful glance at me, he began to read a lengthy and very insightful quote. I nodded along, delighted that this piece had moved our boy. He finished and I smiled, “That was beautiful honey – Wow – so creative!”
He nodded, smiling too.
“You know what I think I love most about it?”
He glanced at me, eyebrows raised.
“The fact that you appreciate it. It’s a gift to have a heart that can ponder something so weighty, and enjoy it. Most people just run through life and don’t really think about anything of substance.” Of course, tears formed in my eyes as I spoke.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” Dismay filled his voice.
“Oh honey, I don’t know why I’m crying.” I patted my eyes, wishing I weren’t so wimpy.
“Really?” he questioned, perplexed by the unnerving thought that I could be crying and not even know why.
All of my life I have struggled with maintaining my composure when I talk about matters of the heart, almost always losing out to emotion.
I laughed. “Nothing is really wrong – sometimes I cry, that’s all. I guess I have a tender heart, and it doesn’t take much to move me.” I looked at him, trying to reassure him. Hoping to lighten the moment, I smiled, “Welcome to women.”
He sighed. “Wow.” A lot was packed in that one small word and I laughed.
“Well I’d better go,” he said, glancing at the clock. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
As his door shut, I thought about the gift God gave us when He created in us the ability to connect and share with others. To wrestle with ideas and beliefs, truths and mysteries, and to journey through life sharing our perspectives and insights, hopes and simple joys.
There in the silence of the car, I prayed, “Thank you, God, for creating us the way You did. Your sovereignty is such a comfort.”
A few more tears escaped, this time, from a heart of gratefulness, as I turned and headed for home.