Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: STORM (10/05/17)
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TITLE: Will it Hold? | Previous Challenge Entry
By Kellie Henningsen
10/12/17 -
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It was only yesterday her first born son lay in her arms. This child had been God’s gift to her and the time to let him go was close at hand. Have I done enough? Is he ready? Thoughts boomed in her head like claps of thunder. She searched her heart and prayed out to God for answers only to be left adrift in a sea of concern. She was not ready for this day.
“Mom, do you know where my car keys are?” Henry called from the living room while Mary washed dishes. She smiled to herself. He needed her. And with that she put down the dishcloth, lifted the keys off the counter where he had left them, and whistled. His curly blonde hair danced in the light as the keys landed in his hands. “Bye, Mom. I’ll be back late.” And with that he was gone. No thought of what tomorrow held. No concern that he was on the eve of leaving childhood behind.
Mary turned back to the dishes with tears in her eyes. The last eighteen years swam through her memory like a slow moving barge. His quirky toddler years, his infectious laughter, his meltdowns, and his undeniable glee. It had gone so fast. She pondered the times they had shared and wondered how many teachable moments had she missed. Did she catch enough of them to make a difference? Was he ready?
The clock struck 9:59pm as car lights pulled into the drive. Henry dragged his body through the door and collapsed in a heap on the floor. “I’m soooo tired!” he wailed. Mary smiled as she looked at her boy lying there. He was no longer wrapped in a baby blanket cooing at toys but nearly a man and yet, here he was lying on the floor at her feet. She couldn’t have been happier. But what did this mean? He has to face life now, he has to work, he has to go to college. Could he handle it all? Had she done enough?
As Henry flopped on the floor, tirades of teen drama spewed from his mouth coupled with professors’ propaganda and church angst. Gone were the days of sibling spats over toys, talks of superheroes, and afternoon naps. Mary tried to interject words of wisdom but his phone vibrated and Henry was caught up in a torrent of group chats that took his full attention. She was no longer his main source of comfort, his main source of understanding, or his main source of direction. Thoughts and suggestions flooded him now from all over. Will his anchor hold in the storm of life? Will he be able to stand strong?
Finally, the day arrived; childhood slipped away with the morning fog as the sun rose on Henry’s adult life. Mary took a moment and pondered all that this day meant both for her son and for her. With great resolve and a plea for peace she recommitted Henry into the Lord’s hands.
With that, she stood on the deck of her tugboat and cut the cord to her son’s life ship. She had done what she could, but she would never stop praying that his anchor would hold.
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