The Farm Boy Left Behind

He loves to be out doors. 

Always has. 

He'd cry when the farmer was heading out. 

We'd strategize how long he could stay outside. 

When his nap should be.

Often it was taken with a  grease rag  pillow; somewhere in the tractor. 

 Wanting to be with his father. 

Longing to be close to the earth. 

Now he races tracks on this land. 

He tills and toils and lifts and creates, 

Jumps and turns. 

It exhausts him. 

He pushes his muscles and expends the relentless energy. 

So committed. 

Yet, still so young. 

A child some days.

Full grown man others. 

The death of his brother leaving him the oldest brother. 

A confusing place.

Roles changed. 

Piercing pain, yet pulled to lead. 

The 4 walls of a classroom claustrophobic. 

Knowledge flowing easily when the hands seek the learning. 

Struggles. 

Tension.

Wrestling with, who am I?

This man boy. 

So different from his brother. 

Yet so a like. 

Searching for truth. 

No hypocrisy. 

Closing in on a year. 

The last picture taken together. 

The last time they saw one another. 

The next the sweet reunion, in Glory. 

I pray for this man-boy.
My only son.
I watch him.
Longing for him to have joy.
My prayer is not for my child to be happy.
Nor is it for him to be successful.
I long for my boy to make choices that will make a difference in this world.
To not be a taker.
To take the gifts he has and use them for God's glory. . .not his own.
We're headed off the two of us to the races.

Praying for sweet time together.

Colossians 3:17
And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, 
do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus,
 giving thanks to God the Father through him.