The Car Of Life

Amidst the misty atmosphere this morning, my husband and I, side by side, walked out into the driveway to wave goodbye to our son who was leaving on his first day of school. He wove and did a “familiar gesture” that only this family could understand and was meant as a joke. He froze his left hand by the driver’s window forming a shape that resembled a “talking mouth.”

“Talk to the hand!” we’d say whenever we heard things that were nonsense.

But this morning, my son did that to make me smile. And his dad. Knowing it was the very first time that he was going to school sans the “mom as the usual driver.” Not today. He was stepping into a new adventure where the car would depend on someone’s decision. His. Alone. He knew we had mixed emotions as I sipped my early morning coffee. My face was showing off a big smile but my heart was tinged with a little sadness yet was also filled with joy. Joyful for a new milestone his steps had to take. Joyful for a new road he needed to take.

“We must learn to let go…” I whispered to my husband, who was so excited to see his son drove off in the usual pace he mastered before getting his license.

A pang of pain pinched my heart again. Letting go seemed to be difficult because it was coming from being protective of your own flesh and blood, knowing how cruel and evil this place could be. As parents, it was a natural instinct to guard the children from any harm. But doing so would be inevitable.

Someone has to fall first before he can get up. A rose with red petals shows off its beauty but along with it come the thorns. A heart learns to mend only after it is broken. 

The car was long gone. The fume still lingered. My heart's ache also vanished as I let go of my son.

To His hands Who would direct his car of life.

“Proverbs 3:5?” I quizzed my son after breakfast and before we all prayed together…

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding!” he quickly replied.

“Verse 6?”

“In all your ways, acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths.”

I heard my cell phone had an incoming text message...

“I’m here now. Luvu…”

“Luvu too…” I slowly typed and sent the message.

My heart by then was completely in peace, surrendered to the One Who could see my son and protect him in all his ways. Here I was teaching my child about Him, but in the process, I was the one who was learning to trust more and depend more on Him Who also had let me go in my own ways before… Yet readily welcomed me upon my return into His loving arms. No questions asked...
All posts/composed songs copyright by RCUBEs.