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Sunday, February 20, 2011

Sundown

I love this time of day. 

The golden hour. 

When the last rays of sunlight paint everything in a warm golden hue. 

The world slows.  Children gather at home.  The need for work, to feel accomplishment from the doings of your hands ends, and the time to rest, fellowship, and enjoy begins.  Sundown is like a release.  A release of unaccomplished tasks to the next day, a release of work in favor of family, a release of expectation in favor of just being.  Saying good bye to the day that is done, and waiting patiently for the new day, whose cares and concerns thankfully will tarry in the dark for a few hours longer.

I'm at a sunset in my life too that I never thought I'd be at.  On Tuesday of this week, my eldest son, the child who God used to make me a mom, will head off to school for the first time in 13 years.  While bazillions of other 13 year olds will head off to school on Tuesday also, for this homeschooling mom, and that 13 year old, this will be an event I never thought would happen. Things have been looking dark around here for a while.  I have struggled with how much to say, what to share, about what has brought us to this crossroads, but I think I have resigned myself to being fully truthful in the hope that sharing our struggles might help someone else, if not in encouragement, at least in knowing they are not alone.  But I'll leave that telling to another post.  For right now, I sit poised on the verge of a shining bright new dawn.  In the past few days since we made our decision, I have come to "be okay" with it...mostly...although there is way more to share about that too.  As is my habit, I'm always trying to cram one more thing in before the sun sets completely, before the light for this day is gone ,and I must wait patiently for the morrow-pluck one more weed, teach one more grammar lesson.  In that way too, my role as a homeschooler mimics my role as wife, mother, and help meet.  It's hard to just let go.  To let him stand or fall of his own accord.  To let him, and a perfect stranger, assume the responsibility for his education that until this point has solely rested with me. 

But I'm trying.

And I'm praying.

Hard, long, and tearful prayers.

And so I ask you, my readers and my friends, to join us in praying, if you are so inclined.

Lord, as I type this, the light is fading.  Those last few moments, they steal away so quickly.  So too do I feel these last few days of life the way it has always been slipping away.  I feel this is the right decision, and is from You, but I fervently pray that if it is not, You would make that obvious to his father and I.  I pray that You would act powerfully in his life.  That he would know Your presence, but most importantly that he would accept Your gift of salvation.  I pray that You would use his teacher and his classmates to make a powerful, positive change in his life and in his heart.  That he would lay his anger and his laziness aside and be able to control his temper and to diligently do his schoolwork.  I ask these things in the name of Your precious Son, Jesus. Amen.
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4 comments:

Joy said...

Praying with you & your men, for Gods best. Peace, continued guidance, calm & obedient hearts & hands. I can only imagine how tough it has been to come to this place in time. Lifting you up!

Melissa said...

Beautiful post!

Cristi said...

I'll be praying with you this week.

Randi Sue said...

Beautifully written. One more step in the journey of educating, loving our kids.