Bittersweet Birthday
October 4, 1976 will forever be etched upon my heart because it was the day God blessed me with my firstborn son, Jimmy. Nothing could have prepared me for the exhilarating joy when I first held him in my arms. Nothing could have prepared me for the piercing sorrow I felt when he left home in defiance seventeen years later. That fateful night marked the beginning of a downward spiral that took my precious son from scholar athlete to homeless man, living under bridges and hopping boxcars in just four short years. I am grateful for the gift of a divine reunion in 2012, but once again God asked me to relinquish my son into His hands.
This morning, as I reflected upon the past two decades, I thought about the day I met with my friends to pray for my son a few months after he left. I was asked to read the passage about the testing of Abraham’s faith when God asked him to sacrifice his son. As a new believer I had far more zeal than knowledge. When I read that God spared Abraham’s son, I was convinced He was telling me that He planned to spare my Jimmy and bring him home. My discouraged heart swelled with hope each morning as I poured over the story of Abraham. A few days later, in the quietness of the morning, I heard a whisper in my mind. “Beth, would you love Me even if I never bring your son home?” I gasped. “What are you asking, Lord?” I quaked. I fell face down on the living room floor crying, “How Lord? How could I possibly endure the agony of never seeing my son again?” The pink cloud of excitement vanished and a dark cloud of disappointment engulfed me.
I had something in common with Abraham, but I did not see it at the time. God used our sons to test our faith. In his study on Genesis, Warren Wiersbe writes, “Our faith is not really tested until God asks us to bear what seems to be unbearable, do what seems to be unreasonable, and expect what seems impossible.” Over the next few days I wrestled with what seemed to be the most unbearable test of my life, wrangled with what seemed unreasonable, and wept over what seemed impossible.
In the months preceding this unforgettable encounter with God, I had been camping at the feet of Jesus, listening to Him speak to me through His Word. I poured out my doubts, fears, resentments and failures, and He filled me with fresh winds of inspiration. We shared dark hours, long nights and deep hurts. He never tired of listening to the cries of my heart after each failed attempt to reach my son. How could I refuse the One who extended arms of love when others pointed fingers? How could I turn my back on the One who held me close as I thrashed through the downward spiral of surrender? How could I say “no” to the One who loved me through each intense round of gut-wrenching sorrow, paralyzing fear and raging anger that demanded a decision of faith?
Psychotherapist and Holocaust survivor, Victor Frankl, maintained that people can endure any “what” as long as they have a “why.” As I pondered God’s question, I had to admit that my greatest “why” in going to God initially was to get my son back. As I continued to experience Jesus personally in the depths of my disappointment, my motives began to change. I realized I could endure any “what” when Jesus is my “why.” After several days on the wrestling mat of faith I was ready to give God an answer to His question. “Yes, Lord! I will still love You even if you never bring my son home,” I whispered through quivering lips. “I still want you to bring him home, but I will love you even if you don’t.”
Today I celebrate another bittersweet birthday without my son. Bitter is the pain of loving someone who is homeless and missing but sweet is the time I have shared with Jesus. I renewed my commitment to love God even if…He never brings my Jimmy home. My heart still aches for my son, but this morning my heart trembled with awe over my great God who used a missing son to show me how to experience an intimate relationship with His Son, Jesus Christ!
Happy Birthday, my Jimmy! I love you and I miss you!
Love,
Mom