I've told this story before, but there's a reason I'm telling it again. Hold with me.
Years ago, I was a newly single mom of a baby and a 4 year old trying to find odd jobs to make ends meet. I took a job for a local church babysitting for their VBS teachers. The VBS was for children kinder and older, so both of mine were with the babysitters. Koby was in the baby class with me and Noah was across the hall with the other 4 year olds.
At lunch time, I went across to peek in on Noah. All of the kids had gotten their lunches and were settling in to eat. Most of these kids knew each other. This was not our church, so Noah did not know anyone. Groups of 4 year olds bunched up around the room and sat down to eat together. Noah was standing in the middle of the room, holding his lunch. He looked around, then sat down on the floor in the center of the room and began to eat- alone.
My heart ached. I wanted to rush in, grab him (and the baby), race home and never return. I wanted to rescue him- but I didn't. Noah never even complained. I think we even went back for 2-3 more days.
Fast forward nearly 16 years. Yesterday I sat with my almost 20 year old Noah at MEPS- Military Enlistment Processing Services- as he waited to leave to go to bootcamp. He was joining the Marine Reserves. When we said our final goodbyes, he had his sack lunch in his hand- and he was going into a room full of strangers to eat.
My heart ached this time, too, but for different reasons. My tears were because I wouldn't get to talk to or see him for 3 months- that's all. He is strong. I knew this time he didn't need any rescuing- in fact, he was on his way to the adventure of a lifetime.
