This past weekend our church celebrated its 5th anniversary. We had a Celebration Service, looking back at what God has done over the years and looking forward to where He will move in the future. Afterwards there was a big picnic with food and games. I love a celebration; give me a birthday or anniversary or any reason to do something special and I’m content. I was planning to go to the picnic even though my guy is on another continent this week, no question about it. The night before, my teenaged son asked if he could have a friend over after church on Sunday. We talked about everyone going to the picnic together, but my son isn’t ready to bring his ‘friend’ into the church mix yet because he’s still getting to know her, and trying to determine the relationship.
You can probably see where this is going. I didn’t get to go to the picnic. I missed the celebration. I had a choice in this. I certainly could have told my son no, but I want to support him, I could have asked them to go someplace else, but I wanted to meet her. I could have felt sorry for myself for missing out, but I know this is a season. When we became parents, we gave up our rights to always do what we wanted, when we wanted, how we wanted. When they were little, I missed out on so many fun things because of bedtimes and feedings and the need to keep a schedule. When they were pre-teens I missed out on taking big trips with my traveling man because they were home and that was my responsibility. Now that my kids are young adults I get to experience more than before, but I still miss out sometimes. And they are worth it.
I can choose to bitterly insist on my rights as an adult or gracefully accept the season we are in. There will be more picnics.
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens. Ecclesiastes 3:1