Reflecting His Father

Posted byLisa RossPosted inUncategorized

I look up from my project to see, near the garden, a familiar smile, wink, and a nod. It’s the sign of approval that my husband gives me when I am doing something well. But this nod, it’s not coming from the 6’ 3” height it usually comes from. This one falls just a touch beneath that…maybe 5’ 11”…and it’s not my husband at all. No, this one comes from my son. I smile as I look at him, giving me the ‘atta girl sign, approving of my work as I cut our grass for the first time this season. He’s just shown me how to mow through the thickness without killing the motor and, after successfully applying his technique, he’s letting me know I’ve done well.

It’s so funny to me, to look up and see those big brown eyes…and the stance he holds and the nod he gives…he reflects all the strength and the stature of his father. His mannerisms mimic the one who has gone before him and shown him the way to manhood through hunting and planting and finding the Creator’s reflection as displayed so beautifully in nature. This not-quite-child/not-quite-man stands before me, confident and encouraging. The halfling has the wisdom of a much older man, but the boy is still very near the surface, ready to come out and play any time there’s a joke to be made or a chuckle to be had. My heart swells with pride when I hear him speak of the things he knows of God. I know that he knows where to find real Truth and strength, and that knowledge gives me great comfort.

Gazing upon my nearly 15-year old son, I ponder…have we taught him well? Have I given him all I can without smothering him with my motherly love? Have we raised him up in the way he should go and, when he goes, will he never part from it? And speaking of letting go…how well will I be able to let go when the time comes? So little time…so many prayers to pray…so many things to trust God for!

I can’t imagine how hard it was for Mary to hold baby Jesus in her hands, knowing the whole time, He never belonged to her…He belonged to His Father. She knew, His entire life, He was meant for greatness beyond anything she could comprehend. She knew, as they beat and humiliated Him and nailed Him to the Cross, they were killing the Son of God, but I’m sure it felt much more like they were killing a piece of her. Yet she had to let Him go so He could complete the work that His Father had sent Him to do. I don’t think any other mother will ever understand emotional conflict and heartache of that magnitude. In comparison, I guess I have it pretty easy.

There were days when my boy needed me more than anyone else…soft and cuddling, applying bandages to wounds, and wiping tears from eyes. But those days are long gone. I’m not assuming he doesn’t need me in some ways, but I accept that he needs his father far more than he needs me at this stage in his life. This realization doesn’t make me jealous or angry. It’s the most natural thing in the world. The last thing he needs is to grow-up being taught the ways of a woman. No. He needs this manly rite of passage that will prepare him to one day take his own journey. As the mother of a son, I can be a soft place to land, but instead of a pillow that would engulf him, I need to be a springboard to put him right back on his feet, encouraging him in his own abilities, wisdom, and strength…letting him know, through Christ, he has everything he needs to live this life well.

Does the different relationship with him make me sad? Oh, I assume every mother misses those special days when their children were small and they needed her so much. But I can honestly say, I’m more excited for him than I am sad for myself. He has such incredible dreams and all the potential he needs to fulfill them. He has the strength of his youth and the unshaken faith that he truly can do anything that God calls him to do. And I am so blessed to be able to watch him as he sprouts into such an incredible young man and to have the honor of calling myself his mother. So, will letting-go be easy? I doubt it. But God always gives us the grace to do whatever we need to do to help others become all that they are to become. So I trust Him to equip me.

As I round the corner on the mower, I catch my husband’s eye and he gives me the same smile, wink, and nod of approval that his son had just flashed at me moments before. A broad smile spreads across my face and I laugh quietly to myself as I thank God for being the Perfect Father to all of us. Even if we have no earthly father, the Bible tells us HE is the Father to the Fatherless. He speaks wisdom and courage into our hearts as He goes before us, making our paths straight. He is quick to reprimand when needed and just as quick to grant us grace and forgiveness.

I thank God for sending Jesus to show us how to live, how to love, how to pray. In this life, He will allow us to be stretched-out, beyond our perceived limits, in order for us to attain all that He knows we can attain through the power of His spirit living in us. Yes, He is the best Father anyone could ever have. And it’s my deepest desire that I resemble my Father even half-as-much as my son resembles his dad—with the light of His love and mercy shining brightly through me, bringing light into the darkness and hope to the hopeless.

It’s a good thing to reflect the image of your Father. J

Published by Lisa Ross

I'm a lover of Jesus who occasionally likes to throw her thoughts out here, mostly as an altar, to remember the paths along which the Lord has taken me, but also as an encouragement to whomsoever. :)

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