My seventeen year old son is really quite a fine young man. He hasn’t gotten into any major trouble but then, he isn’t perfect. Trouble with being were he is supposed to be when he’s supposed to be there, keeping curfew, remembering to call us to tell us where he is, are just of few of his minor besetting sins.
This past weekend he went to a retreat. We had a chat before he went and I was very clear that I wanted him to let us know where he was going afterward on Saturday. He assured me that he would be home early in the evening and we left it at that.
At 11:00, his Saturday night curfew, there had been no sign of him. No phone calls, no nothing. I was furious. Mostly because we had had this in- depth conversation about what I was expecting and here we were, ready to end our day and now we needed to be up. Why that self centered *&^#&%()^!!!!!!!!
My husband stayed up and I went to sleep. I woke at 3a.m., alone. I went to the window to look for my son’s car, no car. I got up and walked around the house but couldn’t find Paul, I thought he was asleep in our son’s bed. I was petrified.
I started to pray for safety for my son. I thought about my mom and what it must have been like for her. I was a “teenage werewolf” and my mom spent many sleepless nights wondering where I was. There in the dark I wondered, “What do you do when your child doesn’t come home? Do we go to church in the morning (my husband is a pastor) or do we stay home? Should we call the police? What will we say? Where could He be? Is he all right? What if he’s hurt or worse...........”
Lights shine in the window and I feel a flood of relief mixed with a tinge of anger-----he’s home. Whew- I hear a door open and shut but they are not his footsteps I hear, they are his father’s. I realized Paul had gone out to look for him. “Did you find him?” “No.”
Silence-------------------------------------------------------------------
Paul said, “Remember last year’s retreat? It went until Sunday”
“Oh yeah” I smiled with relief.