Yesterday our son took a big step towards going into the Military. He’s a Junior in high school, so it’s time to have a plan and lately he has been getting very excited about the possibilities of serving his country and rappelling out of helicopters. A recruiter has come to our home and we have read websites and watched Youtube videos, and as the parents with exactly zero military experience, have been very cautious. Maybe even trepidacious. If that’s a word. I wonder about parents with three generations of military service in their legacy; do they hesitate to send their sons and daughters to battle for our country? I cannot imagine a scenario where it feels completely normal to embrace these possibilities. And yet, we are coming around.
You see, we also have a daughter who is making plans to love on another continent. I accidentally typed love, but it fits perfectly for her. Our firstborn has had a missions heart since first grade, and is attending a missions school this Fall so that someday she will be better prepared to live in a remote village. No electricity. No technology. It’s taken years for God to slowly pry my hands open and offer her to Him, she was never mine to begin with, just on loan for a few years. And why would our son be any different?
It occurred to me that we have two children with similar passions; they both want to live adventurous lives, money isn’t terribly important to either of them, they each have a strong desire to protect others and neither is afraid to die doing the work they feel called to do.
Why would I fight this? Who am I to get in the way? Once again, my job is to love, support and encourage them and pray as hard as I did before they ever entered this earth, and as hard as I did as they first went off to school, and as hard a I did as they were hitting those hard high school years. And to be proud of the people who live under my roof for now.