I’m not ready, yet.
Watching my boy walk down the gravel driveway and out the gate, I felt my heart clench in my chest.
He isn’t ready.
He isn’t old enough.
I needed to keep him to myself a little while longer.
Flooded with emotions, I fought off the tears and wondered if God ever felt the same way. Knowing the day was approaching when He would send His only son out into a cold, cruel world, did He grieve?
Did He hold back the tears and swallow around the lump in his throat as He meticulously molded the tiny baby who would be placed in Mary’s womb?
Did He count down the days until His son left home?
I know that’s how I felt. Like I was watching a piece of my heart walk away.
As I’m sure many of you do when we must let go.
Somehow, I took comfort in the thought that God knows how hard this is and understands.
But, like Mary and, even perhaps God Himself, we must know in our hearts that they were born with a purpose in mind.
God knew just what was needed in this generation, so He made sure that your son was born into your arms, and chose you to train him for battle.
He was born, for such a time as this. Born to save the world.