Cutting Strings, Off To The MTC

 

Every LDS mother who has a son will look forward to or has already felt what I am about to journal about. From the time our sons are born, we hold them in our arms and dream of the day when they will serve a mission for the Lord. Well, I did anyway, we teach them all about the Book of Mormon by reading from it regularly, we take them to church every Sunday and teach them to be reverent, the 1st time they give a talk in Primary we watch intently hoping they will not cry or laugh in the microphone, so proud was I when Blake became a deacon at age 12, I worried that he would never physically grow (he was the shortest deacon for years)
And when he received his Eagle Scout award, his dad and I were there to support him. When Blake turned 16, I was the one to take him for his driver's license, and on the 1st date, we watched as he left the house and worried that he would make good choices, be respectful and get home on time. 
Still, at the time, we had family prayer together and tried hard to always have our scripture study. A few years later, we did not think we were asking the right questions or listening enough when we prayed; for us, the age of 19 came and went for Blake. The day he told us that he was not sure he wanted to serve a mission just about broke my heart. I prayed and asked why? When those answers did not come, I prayed that HE would understand why? Two years had passed since that day when he told us that he did not want to go on a mission, and since that time, Eric and I have had many tears fall from our eyes, many times I have sat at the Temple pleading with the Lord to soften his heart, and to help me to know how to help my son. The Lord truly does listen and answer prayers; I have taken for granted the GIFT given to us after baptism, THE GIFT OF THE HOLY GHOST. It is a powerful GIFT that sometimes I did not listen to, that sometimes I still don't always listen to; I'm learning, just as my Son is learning. Yesterday, I dropped him off (curbside) at the MTC in Provo. I had promised him I would not cry, and I did so well, until......he walked away, I saw my little boy walk into the MTC just like I had dreamed all those years ago, however this dream I finally realized had to be HIS not mine. I cried all the way back to Salt Lake City, sobbing, not really for any other reason but that I had seen a miracle happen in his life, I felt the Holy Ghost and knew it was touching him also. I told him the night he was set apart as a full-time Missionary that the Lord would take much better care of him the next 2 years than I ever could. So.....my son leaves for his mission at age 21, still my little boy, but will come home a man with more faith than he ever thought he could have.