I have to unpack my suitcase sometime. I've been stepping around it all weekend, unable to open it and replace my things into my drawers.
We were supposed to go to Naples on Friday night. The days had been taken off of work, lesson plans were written; I had my hair cut, a manicure and pedicure. Our dog, Henry, and two kitties, Minou and Samantha, were boarded at the vet's. The limousine was coming to pick us up at 4:10 a.m. for a 6:30 a.m. flight out of Chicago's O'Hare airport.
Friday was an anxious day from the beginning. My son woke up at 5:00 a.m. crying. (I haven't seen him cry since he was six.) His girlfriend and he were having troubles; this, on top of the joy he feels about school. I prayed for him on my way to school, and called my parents to ask them to do the same.
By 9:00 Friday night, he wasn't home from work at the corner grocery store. At 11:00 p.m. he still wasn't here. At 2:00 a.m. I called his girlfriend who hadn't seen him. At 3:00 a.m. we cancelled the limo. At 3:30 a.m. he called to say, "This is a courtesy call. I'm all right."
I haven't seen him, or heard from him, since.
Who know where he is? Who's boarding him? Why has he refused to come home? I've spent the weekend fluctuating between anxiety and anger. He must be hurting terribly...how dare he do this to us?
To top it all off, our furnace broke yesterday. The circuit board arced, there was a terrible burning smell, and we are freezing until Monday when it can be fixed. Did we stay home in case our house burned down?
I opened Our Daily Bread Saturday morning. The verse passage was from Romans 5:1-11. Following the scripture is this text:
"Franklin Graham regrets it now, but in his youth he was wild and rebellious. One day he went roaring up to his dad's house on his Harley Davidson motorcycle to ask for some money. Dressed in his leathers, dusty and bearded, he burst into his father's living room-and walked right into a meeting of Billy's executive board.
Without hesitation, Billy Graham identified Franklin as his son. Then he proudly introduced him to every member of the board. Billy did not apologize for his son to show any shame or guilt. Franklin wrote later in his autobiography, Rebel With a Cause, that the love and respect his father gave him that day never left him, even during his rebellious years.
Our children don't have to earn our love. To withhold love for our own selfish purposes is to follow the enemy, not God. God's love for us is undeserved. We did nothing to earn it; no good in us merited us...In all our relationships, especially with our children, we must genuinely show that same kind of love."
Imagine that text appearing just when I needed it most?!
My father says, every time we're going to get together, "I've killed the fatted calf for you." He's referring to the story of the Prodigal Son, who came home in rags to find his father's open arms. I've never flaunted my father's love, being extra appreciative of it because of my adoption, but the expression's meaning remains the same: I love you unconditionally, and I want to show you how much."
When my son comes home, I want to be able to hold out a plate of beef for him.