Twenty-one Year Old Son
The one in the brown there. He just stood up from the living room couch and kicked over a glass on his way out of the room. Of course it shattered off along the rim paralyzing him with a foot on either side the damages. “How did that get there?” He bent over and picked up the pieces that he could while Frances came along with the broom and swept up the rest. She assured him that “it jumped out in front of your foot.”
Lance needs a haircut badly…again. Why doesn’t he learn to cut his own hair?! I wait for him to ask for a haircut…and pray for his future wife to come along and rescue me. Sometimes I wonder if she exists. I think he wonders too.
He’s annoying one day and wonderful the next. This morning he did not want breakfast at eight when the skillet was still hot. But he wanted it at ten when we were just settling into late school. GRRR!
Last week he came home from work and helped me with that terrible project of removing hoses and pipes and junk from the basement walls and ceilings. And every fall he brings me a birthday gift. This fall he brought chocolates and stressed out because that was all he did.
It’s a lonely age. He’s too big to hug and kiss like I did when he was two for the hurts in his life. But I pray that he and others in shoes like his will find their comfort and hope in Jesus. It’s the perfect time in life to seek God and burn out for Him.