I am thankful...

First and foremost, I was thankful to sit with my husband, father of my three children this morning, on Father's Day.  We attended two worship services and a reception for our music leader.  I am grateful to be married to a man who takes his role of father seriously and devotedly and who has always been present in their lives and in their faith journey,  blessing us all with his constant and abiding love.

I am thankful to attend a church where children, from the youngest of ages are part of the worship, part of the 'service' and part of a warm and loving church family.  They have helped me and my husband to nurture and guide our children on their own faith journey with a certainty and a solidness that is at once, both priceless and irreplaceable.

For the last two weeks, my boy has been away from home.  He attended Summer Leadership Institute, sponsored by Milliken and Wofford College and Palmetto Boys State which is sponsored by American Legion.  He has had 14 days of constant steady movement, up early, programming till all hours and repeating the following day.  There was much to be done and much to be learned and many new friends to be made.  When I picked him up yesterday, there was a very tired boy.  Hungry and exhausted, he still had miles to go before he slept.  To the movies with a friend, to the church to put together a newly ordered set of drums and home to bed.  Up early this morning, to play the drums at the contemporary service, which meant packing up and moving his personal drums to church (no small feat).  In the midst of setting up for the service, a friend needed him to substitute and serve in his place as crucifer in the traditional service at 11 am.  (Actually, he got a text DURING the service... the kids are required to find their own replacement if they can, for any reason, not serve.)  They are very good about covering for each other in times of need. (No small lesson, there.)
He plodded on... obviously exhausted, but never failing in his musical performance or his service to his church.

It never ceases to make me pause in true and sincere gratitude, to see my children, clad in the white robe, lift the cross into place, high above their head, posture straight and strong and process.  Today, the processional hymn was "Lift High the Cross"... and as I turned to watch the procession, again, that deeply devout feeling of gratitude to God for the gift of this son of mine, who tall and straight and clad in flip flops and a worship robe, approached and addressed the altar as he has so many times.  It does not get old.  It reminds me to continue to pray for the boy and his walk of faith, to pray that as he further grows to manhood that his faith will hold him in safety and guide him along the path that God has planned for his life.

An hour ago, I went into his room and found him asleep.
Peaceful and sweet, he's no longer a little boy.
His seventeenth birthday passed last week, while he was away.
All around him, in great piles, lay the laundry and the miscellany of  a week of camp.
Down the stairs and through the house, you can certainly tell that's he's home.
This makes me smile... and pause and be so thankful.
I am truly, truly blessed.