This fall, I hit an uncomfortable, inevitable milestone: for the first time in our marriage (barring the gap of our own making), our baby is two and a half years old, and there’s no little brother or sister already in my arms or waiting to make an appearance.
Tickets have been purchased, plans are being finalized. In a few days, Christopher will head back to Asia to do the thing for which he was created.
I’ve seen this man in several career streams throughout our marriage. But his calling as a missionary is the only one I can point to as being the one that fits like home. It’s also the one that, more often than not, takes him the farthest from me.
I know that as parents we’re not ultimately responsible for whether our children choose to follow Christ. I know that as they grow up, their relationship with God is just that—it’s theirs.
But I do believe that as parents, we are called to create an environment that makes the choice of following the Lord so much easier.