I left Michael with another cadet's family in a parking lot off Interstate 77 this morning. His visit was awfully short. Nonetheless, it was his first in 6 weeks. We were just thankful to make it back after Friday's 4 1/2 hour trip up turned into a 6 hour one, when I had Melody take the wrong highway after a bathroom break. It was nearly a repeat of what happened in Atlanta when Miranda was my 15 year old driver, and we wound up in Tennessee instead of South Carolina. Only this time, it was raining and my tires are on their last leg.
Melody was a trooper though, so much so that I let her drive us back until her 9 pm permit cut-off. I was well pleased to see her confidence driving among truckers with a constant spray on the windshield.
We missed Michael's game entirely. We walked to the stands in time to see the clock count down the last three seconds. With all the commotion, somehow we missed the exit where we wanted to eat afterwards and finally settled on a Denny's 100 miles more down the road. I wasn't about to go another road trip without an atlas, so we stopped at the truck stop. And I proceeded to tell the attendant that with my watch, camera, gun, Bible, cash, and now, map, that I still didn't have to have the cell phone the kids claim I do. At midnight, we finally reached home, "If that's what you call it," Michael said yesterday. This has been a world of change for him. When he left, we still lived in the other house and still had the company of his farm animals and pets in their familiar surroundings.
Now, we are close to being suburbanites. In many ways, we're glad not to have the upkeep of the property we couldn't manage anymore. Plus, this house is so spacious that I'm convinced we're meant to use it for hospitality. I hate though that Michael feels like a guest in his own home. But I understand. I'm so accustomed to being at Virgie's that my returns home feel more like hotel stays.
Michael. His outlook at the high school academy is very different this year. On one of our first calls, he said, "It's great being a senior." And on one of our latest calls, he said, "I love my chemistry teacher." Those a big words coming from a reserved young man.
Last year, he went into football season with an undiagnosed broken shoulder AND a case of undiagnosed Mono. He got to play a quarter here and a quarter there. This year, he's playing the whole game, both sides of the ball. Last year, he was mocked for his beliefs. This year, he's the go to. He also has his own room as a respite. Last year, he caught flack from the few fellow students he was placed in charge of. This year, he is second in rank of the whole senior class. He's holding his own academically and has regained the twelve pounds he lost working this summer.
But more than all these was when I was signing him out after the game, and the commandant told his call to hold, while he reached over to me and said about Michael, "I love this guy." No proud parent moment, only well pleased.
Saturday lunchtime, McKala called. "Mama, I had a wreck." If not for her words, I would not have known by her steady tone that anything was wrong. Megan and Miranda were quickly on their way to help. Until I saw a picture of the descent she made off the road and heard the story of the spins she took, I didn't understand what she'd been spared. Turns out that she was neither charged a towing bill nor written a ticket. But her liability only insurance leaves her with presently unknown repair bills. Thankfully, she's just moved back in with us and will have help getting to work. And her Timothy will gladly get her to other needful places. In the two of them, I am also well pleased. They are moving forward with their relationship in a Godly fashion, that I have kidded them I am jealous of.
Megan. Megan to the rescue. Always since she was 12 she's had a patriarchal role. Her talent, reliability, and work ethic give everyone a sigh of relief when she arrives. Because we all know she can handle whatever is in her way. But I want for her something, someone who can share that burden with her, lift it off her shoulders, the weight she was never intended to carry. I know it's up to her to relinquish it, but I believe for the right guy, with the right and true heart, she would.
Miranda. She was all but begged when the move was found out not to leave her last job, helping a woman farmer work chicken houses. Then, a week prior to the move in date, I got a call from someone who wanted a Harper to fill the position. Now, Miranda is working at the Crisis Pregnancy Center. The job was there for her before she pursued it. Because God is front of her now, where He is always waiting to be placed. In this too, I am well pleased, that my children have made a good name that goes before them in the Lord.
Macklynn. This very day the last millimeters of his skin have bonded together. It is healed. Even the plastic surgeon over the department at Wake Forest raised his eyebrows, well pleased by his progress and looked immediately to Melody to applaud her for her good care of it. It looks remarkably good, especially compared to the injuries that the Giants' Defensive End suffered the 4th of July of the very same incident. In my mind, there is no doubt that not only is Macklynn's life meant for the service of the Lord, but so are his hands. Now, to spend my days encouraging him to do so, reminding evermore the things from which he was sprung back.
During these days also, I'm enjoying the sweet fleeting months of the woman/child, Melody. She is my right hand, as each of our daughters that age has been, and will step out into hours of her own work and study before I know it. And although, my Madalynn is years behind her, she is already filling her shoes. We are a team much the way it was when Megan was young before our family grew so large. We sing to her Spanish CD all the way to Virgie's and back. She prepares us herbal tea before bed. Then before we pray, we read to each other between yawns. She already speaks of the job "we'll" get when Virgie has gone on.
Shame on me that in this life I have ever felt alone, left wanting. But for the grace of God, I surely would be. I have learned that there is no noble desire except that I, my children, and fellow and would-be saints cause our Maker to be nothing less than well pleased ..."forever, for always, no matter what."
