"If a friend is in trouble, don’t annoy him by asking if there is anything you can do. Think up something appropriate and do it." ~Edgar Watson Howe

"Only Luke is with me."  These are the words penned by the Apostle Paul to Timothy (2 Tim. 4:11), as Paul wrote to the young evangelist from a Roman prison.  It was the last of Paul's letters.  Although we have no inspired record of Paul's death, most historians agree that he was beheaded in Rome in the mid-60's - shortly after writing this letter.

Last words are always important.  And as I read the end of 2 Timothy, especially verses 9 through 22, Paul's reflective thoughts are moving.  Especially that short sentence mentioning Luke - "Only Luke is with me."  

Our Wednesday evening study in Acts last night turned my thoughts to Luke.  As we began chapter 27, that little pronoun "we" appeared again.  As the writer of Acts, Luke tells us when he is involved in the action by using that simple indicator.

Paul was a prisoner, and was being sent with other prisoners to Rome.  It was curious to me that Luke was joining him - why would the Roman authorities even allow Luke to accompany Paul under these circumstances?  From my reading, it appears that it was unheard of in this age for a prisoner to be allowed to have companions, and I found only two ways that the Roman authorities would have permitted this - either Luke (and Aristarchus, who also accompanied Paul to Rome) would have to take the position as Paul's slaves, or Festus (the procurator before whom Paul had his final hearing in Acts 25) allowed it, believing in Paul's innocence, and thinking that by showing kindness to Paul, Caesar would look favorably upon Festus.

Regardless of why it was allowed, to me the more pressing question is why would Luke WANT to accompany a band of prisoners on a dangerous voyage by ship?  I think the answer to that is found in Paul's statement of 2 Timothy 4:11 - "Only Luke is with me."  Those five words speak volumes.  As Paul concludes his letter to the Colossians, he mentions Luke in verse 14 as sending greetings, along with Demas.  Likewise, in Paul's letter to Philemon (vs 24), he sends greetings from Mark, Aristarchus, Demas, and Luke. But by the time we get to the end of Paul's last letter, we learn that Demas had forsaken Paul, going back to the ways of the world.  Others had traveled to various areas, likely to preach the gospel, and that "Only Luke is with me."

There's a lot we can say about Luke.  Luke is the only gospel writer to give us the account of the birth of John the Baptist, as well as the birth and early life of Jesus.  Only in Luke's gospel can we read the life-changing parables Jesus taught of the Good Samaritan, the rich fool, and the wonderful trio of lost and found - the lost sheep, lost coin, and prodigal son.  Without Luke, we wouldn't know about the rich man and Lazarus, nor would we have insight into the conversation Jesus had with the thief on the cross.

But what I want to focus on here is that Luke was Paul's constant friend.  He could be counted on.  He would not leave, no matter what life brought.  He was willing and eager to go through the storms of life to love and support his friend, even at his own peril.

I hope you have a friend like Luke.  I am blessed with several.  But more important than having that kind of friend, I need to ask myself am I that kind of friend to others?  Can I be counted on?  Do others look at me as someone they can call on to help them weather the storms of life?  When one of my friends is in a bind, are they immediately comfortable dialing my number, or do they hesitate?  When asked if I would accompany them through a difficult journey, perhaps putting myself in peril, would my friends automatically think of me as the friend who would do that for them?

I've written a lot lately about our relationships with one another - being kind, understanding, looking beneath the surface, building relationships, and opening ourselves up to others.  As I continue to think about that, and strive to grow in those areas, I now add another dimension.  I want to be a Luke, don't you?  I can think of no greater compliment or blessing than to have just one person say, "Only Tracy is with me."

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." ~Henri Nouwen

"Sometimes I think it should be a rule of war that you have to see somebody up close and get to know him before you can shoot him." ~M*A*S*H, Colonel Potter

The feeder hangs in front of our kitchen window, and I watch them in awe every time we sit down at the table to eat.  The hummingbirds.  Our feeder has four holes - it is quite capable of serving four hummingbirds at any given time.  And yet, they fight.  Sometimes they spend so much time trying to keep each other away from the feeder, that it appears they actually feed very little.

This behavior fascinates me, so I did some reading about hummingbirds.  As observed, hummingbirds are not very social at all - they live very solitary lives, coming together only to mate.  Their mating ritual typically takes four seconds, after which the female will build a nest to care for her young, while the male leaves to pursue other interests.  Hummingbirds are very aggressive, and will fight each other to protect their "territory."  Female hummingbirds will become quite aggressive toward any male who approaches her nest.

Solitary.  Alone.  And while God created them this way for a purpose, from a human perspective, it is quite sad.  When we are sitting at our kitchen table observing their aggressiveness toward each other, I often say to Jeff, "Why can't they just get along?"

In stark contrast to our backyard hummingbird friends, we have two other feeders that contain birdseed, and these feeders are frequented by several Red Cardinals.  These birds behave quite differently - sometimes we will see three or more birds perched on one feeder, sharing a meal together.

Further reading on Cardinals was fascinating as well.  I learned that Cardinal pairs mate for life, and stay together year-round.  During their courtship, the male will bring food to the female and feed her beak to beak.  After mating, this feeding ritual often continues while the eggs are in the nest.  Cardinal couples sometimes sing together before nesting, and when building the nest, they also work together - the male will bring materials to the female, and she will do most of the building.  As many as four broods can be raised each year, with the male caring for and feeding the young offspring as the female incubates the next brood.

Which bird am I more like?  I have to admit, sometimes it's easier to be a hummingbird - to retreat into my own little world, to be combative, to protect my "territory," and to always be looking at others with a skeptical eye, wondering what they are after.  But being a Cardinal is so much more rewarding.  Yes, it comes with risks - I can be rejected or get hurt, or even be taken advantage of.  But I will also enjoy rich relationships, as my life is filled with other people and their love.

Being a cardinal takes time and effort.  I like the quote that I used as the title of this blog entry - isn't it true that it's a lot easier to "shoot" someone that we don't "see up close" or "get to know"?  We often criticize or judge someone when we have no idea what is going on in their world.  We dart around in attack mode, assigning motives, perhaps thinking they are out to get us, when in reality they are just trying to survive like we all are.

My last several entries here have been about relationships, and I continue to write about that because it is so important.  We can't be hummingbirds and be pleasing to God.  If my research is correct, there are 59 "one another" passages in the New Testament.  Here's a small sampling:

“…Be at peace with each other.” (Mark 9:50)

 “…Wash one another’s feet.” (John 13:14)

 “Be devoted to one another in brotherly love…” (Romans 12:10)

“…Honor one another above yourselves. (Romans 12:10)

“Live in harmony with one another…” (Romans 12:16)

“…Love one another…” (Romans 13:8)

“…Stop passing judgment on one another.” (Romans 14:13)

“Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you…” (Romans 15:7)

“…Instruct one another.” (Romans 15:14)

“Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” (Ephesians 5:21)

“…In humility consider others better than yourselves.” (Philippians 2:3)

And repeatedly in the Gospel of John and the first Epistle of John, the phrase "love one another" is used.  Over and over again.  I cannot do this if my focus is solely on myself.

Be a cardinal.  Interact with others.  Welcome someone into your "nest."  Sing.  Share a meal.  Get to know others, especially in your church family - I mean REALLY get to know them.  You will be blessed, and God will be pleased.  

"When you can be the sunshine in someone's life, or the warm rain, why would you be the cold north wind?" ~Robert Brault

Last week was special.  Jeff was in Missouri for the FC summer camp there, Ryan was playing in the Tyler golf tournament with his dad, and those two events coincided to give me the pleasure of spending the week alone with my firstborn child, who is currently 30 weeks pregnant with HER first child.  During Sarah's time here, I was blessed with several priceless moments of placing my hands on her growing belly, and feeling Lydia move, tumble, and kick.  There's a life growing inside of Sarah.  My granddaughter. Lydia is growing and moving, and while we can feel that from the outside, we cannot SEE any of it.  Yes, Sarah has had a few ultrasounds, and as a result, we know that Lydia is a girl, and have seen images of her form.  But things like her hair color and eye color, and her family resemblances remain a mystery for now.  There's a lot going on in there that we just cannot see in spite of Sarah's expanding waistline.

Sarah and Ryan left, and Jeff returned home from camp with a sore, swollen and bruised arm.  If you know Jeff, you know of his love for volleyball.  Apparently, he did not hold back during the annual counselor/camper game, as he sacrificed his body to save a ball from going out (plowing over a kid in the process - my apologies to that boy's parents!).  Jeff landed awkwardly on that arm, and it has continued to cause him trouble for almost a week now.  And while we could see some evidence of damage on the outside - bruising, swelling, and a few scabs - we could not see what was happening inside his arm.  He could feel the pain, but I only knew of that by what he told me, or as I saw him grimace.  So, yesterday afternoon, he went for an x-ray.  Fortunately, he doesn't have any broken bones, just soft tissue damage.  But it took that special view to the inside in order to know that for sure. *(UPDATE:  After the radiologist read the x-ray this morning, it appears he has a radial fracture after all - sometimes it takes a REALLY close, professional look inside!)

Just like Jeff saw the inside of his arm yesterday, I saw some of my insides, too.  I had a barium swallow test, which involved drinking and eating barium-laden beverage and food items of varying consistencies while some health-care professionals watched those tasty morsels travel through my mouth, down my throat, and into my stomach.  They let me see those images as well.  Fascinating stuff!  I don't know about you, but when I eat, I think very little about the food once it leaves my mouth.  But it continues its journey, traveling through my body sight unseen.  Only as I have trouble with that process must I investigate further, looking beneath the surface.

Yesterday, as I sat in the admitting office of Trinity Mother Frances Hospital registering for that test, I saw this sign on the desk of the lady who was signing me in . . .

Inside battles.  Quiet suffering.  Unseen struggles.  We've all been there.  The hidden, hard things that no one knows about.  Perhaps it's disease.  Or loneliness.  A struggle with temptation, or maybe a difficult friend or family member.  And like the functioning parts inside of our bodies, we often do not know of the struggles of others because we are not able to see inside. 

It took time, effort and money to see inside of Sarah's womb, Jeff's arm, and my digestive tract.  But we did those things, because it was important to know what was going on in there.  Maybe I need to make that same kind of time, effort, and expense to look inside of others to help them with internal struggles.  If I am perceptive enough to notice the "bruises" and "grimaces," maybe I will look a little deeper.  

That starts with building relationships.  Quit looking at your phone, get off of Facebook, and get to know people.  Be more inclusive.  Yes, I have my friends, and you have yours, but am I actively getting to know people - especially in my local spiritual family - so that I can encourage and help with the things that are hurting them on the inside?  And not just helping with the hurts, but encouraging their growth as I celebrate their successes.  Do I interact with people of all ages, seeking to know them - REALLY know them?

I have heard from several people of various ages in different stages of life over the past few months that they often feel left out.  Lonely.  Am I contributing to those feelings in them?  Or am I seeking to be kind to everyone as I try to be part of the healing and not the hurt?  If I have a close-knit family living in the same town, do I actively seek to include those who may not enjoy that blessing?  If I have close friends in the same location, do I seek to broaden that circle by inviting others who might be lonely to share in those fun times?  Do people feel welcomed in my presence?  Is my home an open place where people feel comfortable?  I think most of us do not intentionally leave people out - we just don't think!  We don't look for those bruises and scabs that might clue us in that a tough battle might be brewing inside.  

I like what George Washington Carver wrote:  "How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak and strong. Because someday in your life you will have been all of these."  You see, we will all be there at some point in life.  And I hope when I am, that you will be perceptive enough to look inside of me with kindness, as you seek to help me fight my battle.  I'll work harder at doing the same for you.  We are all in this together - let's apply Ephesians 4:32 in every relationship in life!  I have no doubt we will be blessed as we look deeply inside of each other to recognize those battles and seek to help.  

Be kind.  Be perceptive.  Be open and friendly.  Be inclusive.  Look deeply beneath the surface.  Let's all be someone who helps and heals.

"Beginning today, treat everyone you meet as if they were going to be dead by midnight. Extend to them all the care, kindness and understanding you can muster, and do it with no thought of any reward. Your life will never be the same again." ~Og Mandino

“There’s nothing wrong with enjoying looking at the surface of the ocean itself, except that when you finally see what goes on underwater, you realize that you’ve been missing the whole point of the ocean. Staying on the surface all the time is like going to the circus and staring at the outside of the tent.” – Dave Barry

Jeff and I recently enjoyed a vacation to beautiful Victoria and Vancouver, British Columbia.  One of the highlights of our trip was going on a three-hour whale watching tour.  The day that we went out onto the ocean, two separate whale pods came together, and we were able to enjoy observing 40 or so Orca whales (also known as killer whales) play and socialize with each other.  It was amazing to watch, and reminded me of what the Psalmist wrote in Psalm 104:26 - "There the ships move along, and Leviathan, which You have formed to sport in it."  

 We saw these magnificent creatures come to the surface to breathe, and listened to them exhale explosively through their blowholes.  We watched them jump, twisting their enormous bodies - that can grow up to 32 feet long, weighing as much as 6 tons - coming down with a spectacular splash.  We saw a mama and her baby swimming together, as the little one stuck closely to its parent.  It was truly awe-inspiring.



But what was even more intriguing to me is what goes on below the surface.  Most of the time, whales and other sea creatures go about their lives in secret, and those of us who never dive into those depths do not get to see their lives below - we only catch the rare glimpses of their brief, occasional appearances above the surface.

But below the surface, there is a very rich world . . .

Orcas are very family-oriented, social creatures.  The calves nurse for about a year, and stay with their mothers for several years.  They interact closely beneath the surface, and I have read that when two Orcas get into some kind of conflict, they "make up" afterward.  It has been observed in those situations where one of the fighting whales will actually pat the other one with a fin when the fight is over, as if to say, "I'm sorry."  (Or maybe, "I forgive you.")

The captain of our tour told us several fascinating stories - - like the young Orca they discovered with "rake" marks on its body.  The marine experts determined these marks to be caused by the teeth of other Orcas.  Why would they scrape their teeth across a baby?  According to the experts, it was because they were trying to save its life.  Apparently, the mother whale encountered distress during the labor process, and she called out for help.  Other female Orcas came to her aid, literally pulling the baby whale out of her in a successful effort to save the lives of both the mother and baby.  Whale midwives, if you will.  Amazing.

And speaking of whales "calling out," did you know that whales vocalize?  Their communication is quite sophisticated.  At several points during our tour, the guides on our boat would drop microphones down into the water, and we would listen in as these great sea creatures produced all sorts of various sounds.  They were "talking" to each other.  Studies have also shown that different pods of whales have different dialects, and they "learn" to talk from their parents.  Fascinating stuff!

But for the most part, all we ever see is what goes on above the surface.  And like the quote I used as the title states, that is much like going to the circus and staring at the outside of the tent.

Beneath the surface.  That phrase can apply to the world on dry land as well.

Earlier this year, I participated in a Bible study with some young women.  The focus of those lessons was on being genuine, and the problem we face in our world today with lacking sincerity and depth, and wearing plastic smiles.  We often don't say what we mean, or mean what we say.  It's easy to do that.  It's easy to fall into a pattern of doing the same things superficially day after day.  But what a waste.  So much abundance can be found below the surface - - By focusing there, we can have such rich lives.  

It begins with our time with God.  Am I a "superficial Christian," only opening the Word or praying to Him when I'm "at church"?  Or do I dive deeply into my relationship with God each day by spending focused time with him in Bible study and prayer?  As Paul stated in Romans 11:33, "Oh the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!"  If I'm not diving to those depths, I am missing out.  A superficial relationship with my Lord is really no relationship at all.

But diving below the surface also includes involvement with others.  Do I spend focused time each day with my family, seeking to truly know them?  Or do we simply live superficially in the same house?  The same applies to extended family, friends, and brethren.  Do I strive to stay connected with the people I love?  When I do have conflict in my  relationships, do I seek resolution?  Do I give a pat with my "fin," and say, "I'm sorry," or "I forgive you?"  

And what about my church family?  Am I seeking to go below the surface with them?  Do I really try to get down deep in those relationships so I can KNOW them, or am I content to just scratch the surface with foyer pleasantries three times a week?  

Do I spend more time on Facebook or texting than I do with actual, breathing human beings?  Am I available and listening for those who might be calling out in distress?  Am I searching for ways to alleviate suffering in the lives of others?

Wendelin Van Draanen wrote, "...the sad fact is, most people don't look beneath the surface until it's too late.”  I don't want to make that mistake.

I learned some lessons from those whales.  Reminders about focus, and communication, and building and maintaining relationships.  It's easy to just live on the surface.  It takes more effort to dive a little deeper.  Effort that is well worth it, in every aspect of life.

"A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove... but the world may be different because I was important in the life of a child." ~Forest E. Witcraft

The quote that is the title of this post is actually a slight variation of the end of a brief essay called, "Within My Power," by Dr. Forest E. Witcraft, who was a scholar, teacher, and Boy Scout executive.  His essay was first published in a 1950 issue of Scouting Magazine, and it reads as follows:

"I am not a Very Important Man, as importance is commonly rated. I do not have great wealth, control a big business, or occupy a position of great honor or authority.  Yet I may someday mould destiny. For it is within my power to become the most important man in the world in the life of a boy. And every boy is a potential atom bomb in human history.  A humble citizen like myself might have been the Scoutmaster of a Troop in which an undersized unhappy Austrian lad by the name of Adolph might have found a joyous boyhood, full of the ideals of brotherhood, goodwill, and kindness. And the world would have been different.  A humble citizen like myself might have been the organizer of a Scout Troop in which a Russian boy called Joe might have learned the lessons of democratic cooperation.  These men would never have known that they had averted world tragedy, yet actually they would have been among the most important men who ever lived.  

All about me are boys. They are the makers of history, the builders of tomorrow. If I can have some part in guiding them up the trails of Scouting, on to the high road of noble character and constructive citizenship, I may prove to be the most important man in their lives, the most important man in my community.

A hundred years from now it will not matter what my bank account was, the sort of house I lived in, or the kind of car I drove. But the world may be different, because I was important in the life of a boy."

I read that passage at Caleb's Eagle Scout Court of Honor several years ago, as I thanked those who influenced our boy in his young life.  But it came to my mind again a few weeks ago as we gathered in College Station to celebrate Caleb's graduation from Texas A&M University.

So many people have been (and are) important in the lives of my children.  When Sarah, Becca, and Caleb were young, not only were their parents and grandparents invested in their lives, but many of our friends made it a point to really KNOW our kids - to be involved in their lives, and to make them a priority.  Friends who attended ball games, school plays, marching events, band concerts, and graduations - some who traveled many miles to do so.  These friends remembered birthdays, provided comfort at the loss of a grandparent, and worked at making fun memories with them.

As our children left the nest and moved into their college world, this group of important people broadened for them.  Their Christian family grew as they got to know good, godly people who loved them and embraced them into their families.  Friends who were there during break-ups, the stresses of school, surgeries, and again, the death of a grandparent.  Godly people who set an example, provided guidance, and became family to our kids, when their blood family was many miles away.

And now, as all of our kids have entered their post-college adult lives, that circle of important people continues to grow for each of them.  What a blessing.

I am thankful beyond description for those important people in the lives of my children - you have helped them in ways too numerous to mention.  You are loved greatly by them, and by their parents.  And your influence and encouragement to them cannot be measured - they are as far along on their paths of faith as they are because of you.

But as I contemplate all of that, I need to take it a step further - - what about me?  What kind of influence am I having in the lives of the little people that make their way into my world?  Am I "important" in the life of a child?  Am I taking the time to invest in the lives of precious children in such a way as to build relationships with them, encourage them, and help them as they grow and develop their faith?  I plan to make more of an effort to do that, and I hope you will, too.

“I love these little people; and it is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us.” ~Charles Dickens

"Call it a clan, call it a network, call it a tribe, call it a family. Whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one." ~Jane Howard

Yesterday was Mother's Day, and my Facebook news feed blew up with posts and pictures of my friends with their moms and children.  Some were funny, all were sweet, and I enjoyed seeing all of it!  My own children put together this very thoughtful video for me . . .


I am blessed, and most of the people in my circle of friends and acquaintances are equally blessed with loving families.  And being surrounded by such a family oriented community, I often take this for granted.

However, on Saturday afternoon, I saw another side of life . . .

Sarah & Ryan were visiting, and we went out to Lake Tyler to enjoy the nice weather and try out Jeff's new canoe.  Jeff, Sarah & Ryan loaded up and headed out for a nice, leisurely trip across the lake, while I sat back in a lawn chair to enjoy the quiet solitude that comes with being on the shore.  I was ready to enjoy the sights and sounds of waves gently slapping the shore, boats passing in the distance, birds flying and chirping, frogs hopping and croaking, and the gentle rustle of leaves as the wind blew through the trees.

Ahhh, such peaceful relaxation awaited me, or so I thought.  However, as my family rowed away and I settled back in my camp chair, the sights and sounds I anticipated were far from my reality.

About 50 yards to my left, three people sat together on top of a picnic table.  Two young men, and a young woman.  They were loud, and obviously inebriated.  Further down to my left was a tent, and near that campsite sat a man and two women.  At first, I couldn't hear much from this group, but that soon changed.

Shortly after my family departed in the canoe, one of the young women from the tent group walked over to the picnic table group.  She loudly told them that although she didn't know them, she thought they "looked like nice people."  She said she "needed a break from the drama" of her tent group, and then she went on to (loudly) tell her new friends all of her camping friends' troubles - about how she had to come out there that morning at 9 a.m. to settle their strife, and how when she arrived, they were walking around naked and she had to get them dressed . . . She also said, "I just want to get them home without them going to jail."  All of this was laced with expletives.

Before long, tent woman and picnic table people were sharing beer and laughter.  Then, things took an ugly turn . . . one of the picnic table men stumbled (literally) over to the man and woman sitting near the tent - the two who had previously been described as "walking around naked" earlier in the morning.  Words were exchanged between the two young men who didn't know each other - loud, profane words.  And, as expected, it soon escalated into punching and kicking.

At this point, my happy little family returned from their peaceful excursion.  (Well, mostly peaceful - I later learned that the tent people had yelled expletives at them as they rowed past.)  

As I contemplated whether or not to call the police to report these people pummeling each other, the fight quickly broke up, and the picnic table group got into their car and left.

Jeff and Ryan loaded up the canoe, we departed the lake for Braum's ice cream, and enjoyed the rest of our afternoon.

I've thought a lot about those people at the lake the past two days.  Especially as I consider the stark contrast between the people in my world, and the way those people we encountered at the lake live their lives.  I wondered about them yesterday - as we gathered with our church family to worship God, I wondered what they were doing, and how they were feeling.  As I thought back on the memories we made with Sarah and Ryan the previous few days, I wondered about those groups at the lake - would they even remember what had occurred in their lives on Saturday?  They were obviously intoxicated, so probably not.  And if they do remember, what kind of memories will they be?

Then, I wondered about their Mother's Day.  The people in my life, for the most part, have happy families.  I somehow doubt those young folks at the lake have warm, loving families.

So what's the difference?  I do not want to in any way imply that we are "better" than those people at the lake.  We are all human beings, created in God's image, and given the same Savior who died for us.  We are all sinners in need of that Savior.  The difference is that the people in my circle of life have chosen to follow Him.

When we choose to follow our Creator, to do things in His way, to pattern our lives after our Savior, and to teach those things to our children, we will be blessed.  God's way is always best.

So as I begin my week, and think back over the family memories I made over this previous weekend, I am a little more thankful -- thankful for the parents who raised me to honor God, and for my children who have chosen to follow God in their own lives.  I'm trying harder to not take those blessings for granted.  And most importantly, I will strive harder this week to be a light to those I might encounter like the unfortunate souls we saw at Lake Tyler on Saturday.  How sadly miserable those people must be.

“But the lovingkindness of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear Him, And His righteousness to children’s children, to those who keep his covenant and remember to do his commandments.”  ~Psalm 103:17-18

"...And she loved a little boy very, very much - even more than she loved herself." ~Shel Silverstein The Giving Tree

Caleb was home last weekend, and it was much like it has been since he began college.  We had a productive weekend of traveling to Irving to help him find an apartment, as he prepares to graduate from Texas A&M University, and begin his first job with AMN Healthcare.  We walked his dog, caught up on the latest news, and (as we always do when Caleb is home) we laughed.  A lot.  But this visit was different, even if no one noticed but me.

Four years ago, Caleb left home to attend college.  That was an adjustment for all of us, but one we easily embraced - he joined his sisters in College Station, and although I missed him, I always knew that this was home.  He would be back for extended stays - summers, winter breaks, spring breaks.  Yes, he had a "home" in College Station, but it was always temporary.  THIS was home for him.  Until now.

Signing the lease agreement for his apartment - no cosigner needed!

Sunday night as Caleb put the finishing touches on the last project of his college career in our living room floor, I bent down to kiss his bearded cheek goodnight.  And when I did, I made a conscious effort to take it in - the feel, the smell, the sound of it all.  I've kissed that cheek at least a million times before.  At first, it was a pudgy little baby cheek, that smelled so sweet, and I couldn't get enough of!  Eventually, it grew into a usually dirty, sometimes smelly, and occasionally scraped up cheek of a growing boy.  I went from holding the owner of that cheek, to having him wriggle sitting beside me, to sometimes chasing him down to kiss it.  My posture changed from leaning down to stretching up to reach that cheek when he's standing - all 6 feet, 2 inches of him.  But as I kissed that familiar cheek Sunday night, I knew that although there will be other "goodnight kisses," they will be given when he visits, or when I visit him.  Soon he will have a new home.  A new permanent address.

And those hands.  Sunday evening in worship, as I stood beside him and we bowed our heads for the closing prayer, he reached and took my hand.  As his large hand enveloped mine,  I remembered reaching down to take the small hand of a wiggly little boy - a hand that was once so small, it could only grasp a few of my fingers.

Then, on Monday morning he left to go back to College Station, as he's done numerous times over the past four years.  But in THIS parting, I hugged him a bit tighter, and a little longer, fully savoring that moment.  And my gaze lingered a little more as he drove his beloved "Clifford" (his big red truck) out of the driveway and disappeared down the street.  The next time he comes, he will be a college graduate with his own home in Irving - one he is paying for himself.  (I'm not feeling too sad about that last part!)

My boy has grown into a man.  There is great pride and satisfaction in that.  From the outset of this adventure called parenting, Jeff and I have raised our kids to leave.  Our goal has been to equip them to live in this world on their own.  To raise them to be self-sufficient.  Caleb is ready to do that, and this mom could not feel more blessed.

So at this time of reflection, thankfulness and celebration as a chapter of Caleb's life closes and a new one begins, I might feel a twinge of sadness.  But that is greatly overshadowed by the joy and excitement I feel as my son moves on into his young adult life.

Caleb.  We chose that name for a reason.  In Numbers 14:24, God describes the biblical Caleb this way... "But my servant, Caleb, because he has a different spirit in him, and has followed me fully..."  That has been my prayer for our Caleb for the past 22 years - that he will have a different spirit, and follow God fully.  And while I am proud of the young man who has earned his Bachelor's degree in Communication; the tall, brown-eyed Caleb who never meets a stranger, seeks to serve others, and enjoys life to the fullest; I am most proud to know that my son "follows God fully."  He is living up to his name.  As his mother, I can ask for nothing more.

So, next week when I watch him cross that stage, and I leave College Station knowing that my recently graduated son will be moving to his new home the next day, I will smile and be thankful.  And I will look forward to his visits to our home in the future.  Because as much as life is changing, one thing will always remain the same - the roots my children have here, the memories that fill our home which bind us, and the deep love our growing family shares.

Congratulations, Bud!  No mom has ever been more blessed than me.  Stay strong, serve God, and enjoy your new home.  Oh, and one more thing - please don't try kayaking in those canals in Los Colinas, no matter how great the temptation might be.  Trust me on this one . . . ;)

"There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children.  One is roots, the other is wings."  ~Henry Ward Beecher