Hope

Through the ages mothers have always lamented the world they were sending their sons into. I feel the prayers that have been prayed for ages, and sense the camaraderie of generations of mothers who have gone to their knees for their precious boys.  The ancient mothers whose sons might have been slaves, building pyramids. Or the mothers whose sons faced an American Revolution. Or a Civil War. Imagine the Jewish mother's whose sons faced the Holocaust.

Always, this tumultuous world has been a vast and frightening place for mothers to send their sons. Knowing what's out there makes our job seem even more serious, more challenging, more important. 

But I want to remember too, the mothers who sent their sons out into a world during the Reformation or the Great Awakening. Periods of illumination mark our history too. 

And that gives me hope. And purpose. 

I want to raise a son who I can send out into the world prepared for a war, but seeking a Reformation.

It means that we must raise men of honor, respect and great strength. Men who will do right even when it costs them everything, who will do right even when no one will see, who will do right because they love to do right for the sake of the One who gives them breath and life. 

And all around me, I see mothers with the same mission. And that gives me hope too.