Earlier when I was putting the boy to bed, I asked him if he had anything he wanted me to pray for. He immediately said, "I don't know." Well, I know that if I wait in silence long enough (although it doesn't usually take too long), he'll say something specific.
"Mom, you can pray we don't go back to Alabama so I can stay here in St. Louis with my friends."
It's not the first time he's talked about being very sad at possibly leaving here. It hurts this mama's heart, although I did chuckle that it seems in his mind there are only two "places" we could possibly live.
So we prayed just that. And I let it go.
I didn't remind him that God has a good plan for us, that he is entirely trustworthy, that where we go is not a surprise to him. That he already knows if we'll stay or go, and that if we go we can know it's for his glory and our good. And that it will be good, even if it's hard, wherever it is. And God will provide all of us with specific new friends and new teammates and new classmates. And none of this is unknown to God, even if it's unknown to us.
I didn't remind him that our stories were written before time began by a good and trustworthy creator. That our job is to cling to him, always seeking him in the Bible and through prayer, learning his heart, so that ours are changed and conformed to his, so that we're more able to rest in his knowing and his goodness even when we don't know and don't trust. Because that is the point of it all.
It's right to have space and time to mourn and be sad. To ask the Lord for what our hearts really long for. Our boy needs to be allowed to go ahead and really long for something out of his control, not knowing if he'll get it, practicing the habit of taking his heart to God. He's learning that the relationship he's building with the Lord is what is going to make him be OK, however his story plays out.
I'll save the pep talk for another day. For him and for me.