It is a gorgeous fall morning in downtown Nashville. The trees, burning with rich yellow and orange leaves, shower the autumn landscape. What another great day to be alive. I couldn't help but be thankful for so many gifts and blessings on a morning like this one. I was flooded by several thoughts on the commute into the office.
Amist them all, the one that keeps rising to the top is just to be grateful for the youth, to have a heart for their loss and wondering, to bend an ear to their dreams and woes and to only want the best for them. As a parent, the first instinct is to shield them from any and all harm — but what a horrible disservice that would be. Time passes and so will the guardians. Being from the country, I have watched the newly hatched Monarch butterfly struggle from its chrystalis to be free of its birth and start its new transformed life. I have also watched them die if they were aided by the casual observer who hadn't taken the time to realize what is being witnessed in addition to the struggle necessary to be completed unaided. The butterfly didn't need to be rescued. It wasn't a victim. It just had things it had to go through for the right of being itself.
Isn't it funny how we are all connected somehow. Isn't it terrifying how small the world really is when we notice. Our children, the youth of America are our legacy, our hope and our tomorrow. What are we willing to give up today to ensure that great tomorrow? Are we willing to give ourselves, our patience, our hearts, our disappointments and our dreams? Do we require instant results or success or to be witnesses of either? The sower's job is simply to sow. Another comes to water. Another comes to prune. Another comes to feed and care. We all have roles even when we don't know what they are; but what a grand revelation to understand that we are so much bigger than just ourselves. We all have purpose. We all have destiny. We are all supposed to be here. No, it isn't always pleasant; but as my great grandfather always used to say about road construction, "boy, it don't rain on the job, it rains on you." Isn't it funny how some words come back to you so much later but at just the right time.
I am very thankful for my two boys. Yes, sometimes it hurts to watch them wander or suffer. YES, I know that it works out in the end and that growing requires some necessary pain. That's only healthy. The JOY of watching them come through the forrest, tattered amist the trees is what makes you stand and cheer with bursting lungs. I have often been quoted at "I would never go into battle with somebody without scars." We all need our scars. They mark our progression from one point to the next, they mark our advance or retreat, they remain as that line in the sand underlined by "once upon a time." I already bask in watching them emerge as men of honor, heroes of my future, men of their own tomorrow.
Time marches on craddling today's child. It is we who determine the warmth of the blankets.
1 comment:
You have such a beautiful way with words. I love blogs that make me think. I love blogs that move me. Yours does both. There's another blog I visit often that is written the same way. On my favorites list she is humptydump-me-eggs-all.
I always kept in mind when raising my children that I was preparing them to be adults. It was more than cooking for them and cleaning up after them. I knew I had a job to do and I tried my best.
I love what your great-grandfather said.
And yes, we need scars.
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