Saturday, 29 March 2008

Luke 8.20 "Your mother and brothers are standing outside, waiting to see you."

I see him a long way off. Addressing a large crowd. My son has no time for me any more. I know I should be grateful that he is so precious, so special, and I am. But sometimes I feel God has granted me a gift that is larger than I wanted.

I tore when I gave birth to him, and now I am torn in pieces again. Even before they come and give me the bad news, that he doesn't want to see me today, I am in pain: not because I am angry, but because I know he is right. We had our years together, I wiped him clean and taught him to count, giggled at his smiles. He has work that is more important than me now.

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